The Spanish Chest Part 25

"Thank you, Miss Connie," said Edith. "I'm afraid I ought to go home. Fran can stay just as well as not, but Sister depends upon me to go to church with her. I always do, you know."

Edith colored and looked uncomfortable, feeling that perhaps she was being ungracious.

"You're a good little sister," said Constance quickly. "And you would not care so much as Frances because you have always spoken French. I imagine Dad will go to St. Aubin's and he'll take you home. I'll make Max go with us."

Max was perfectly willing to play escort, but looked dubious when Constance declared her intention of stopping at a tiny French church just inside the town of St. Helier's. "Have you ever been here?" he demanded.

"No," admitted Constance. "Of course we might go to the Convent of St. Andre. I forgot, though, they wouldn't let you in. Frances only wants to hear a sermon in French and this will answer very well."

Max still looked disapproving. "You won't like it," he said. "It's a queer, non-conformist sect of some kind. There's a place the other side of town where they have the Church of England service in French. Let's go there."

"Why not stop here?" persisted Constance. "More exciting when one doesn't know what's coming next."

"One may get more than one bargains for," commented Max. "Connie, I have a premonition that we'll land in some mess."

Connie made a delightful little face. "Come in," she said to Frances. "I was under the impression that we invited Max to escort _us._"

When Frances returned home from church, she was distressed to find Win in bed.

"He overdid yesterday," said Mrs. Thayne in reply to her anxious questioning. "I can't discover exactly what happened, but he and Roger were out together and Win walked too far. That's all he will admit. No, he isn't as badly off as sometimes, and says he only needs a rest. Come up in his room, Fran, to tell your adventures."

To Fran's eyes Win looked decidedly ill when she saw him lying against his pillows, but he evaded all inquiries and demanded to know about the Manor ghost.

"That wasn't the end of our experiences," Frances went on laughing, when the events of the night had been thoroughly discussed. "We had a funny time in that little church. Mr. Max didn't want to go there in the beginning, but Miss Connie insisted. Inside, it didn't look much like a church for it was a great bare room, with not many people present. The usher made us sit rather far front, so we had a good view of the minister, who was a little man with black hair that stood straight up, and his manner was very excited.

"The service seemed unusual for different people kept getting up and talking. I couldn't understand much and Mr. Max looked annoyed and Miss Connie amused. Finally a boy about my age began to speak.

He wore the oddest vest and trousers of rose-pink sateen plaided with purple. We could see distinctly because the minister made him come out in front and face the people. Well, the clothes he had on were enough to make any one smile, but when he finished speaking, the minister bounced out of the pulpit and kissed him on both cheeks! He did, honest!" Fran insisted in answer to Roger's whistle of incredulity.

"I don't know what would have happened next, for the service was really very strange, but when the minister kissed that boy, Mr.

Max gave a little grunt and took up his hat. I was sitting between them, and he leaned forward and said in such a disgusted tone, 'My word, Connie, _will_ you come?'

"I think Miss Connie was trying not to laugh but I guess she'd had enough herself for she rose and we went out very quietly so as not to disturb anybody.

"When we reached the street," Frances went on, "Mr. Max was so funny. He didn't say a word, only stalked along looking quite cross. Miss Connie sat down on a wall and laughed till she cried.

Then she told Mr. Max to smile and show his dimple. But he wouldn't. I don't see how he could help it when she was so pretty and sweet. Well, after she laughed some more, she begged him please to look affectionate.

"At that he couldn't help smiling, and then he asked Miss Connie if she was ever going to stop getting herself and him into sc.r.a.pes. She called him 'old boy' and said she was sorry,--she wasn't really," Fran interpolated with a wise nod,--"and promised to stick to the Church of England service ever after. Mr. Max inquired how much I understood and when I told him only a little, he said it was lucky. That was certainly a very peculiar church,"

Frances ended reflectively. "I'm quite sure that Mr. Max wanted to come out long before we did, and that Miss Connie persisted in staying just to tease him."

Win was smiling over his sister's story, but though he evinced interest both in the Manor ghost and in the amusing experience Connie had furnished with her little French church, the point that most impressed him was Max's presence at the Manor.

"I wish I could see him," he observed. "I want so much to ask a question or two. Did Miss Connie tell him about the paper I found and how we explored the vaults and sounded the walls?"

"She did," a.s.sented Frances. "We talked about it after dinner. Mr.

Max was as interested as could be and said he was going down himself to take a look."

"Mother," said Win suddenly. "I really need to see him. Don't you believe he'd come in for a minute if he knew I was used up so I couldn't get to the Manor?"

"Indeed, I do," a.s.sented Mrs. Thayne. "Write a note, dear. Roger shall take it for you."

Roger, who for some reason haunted his brother's room in a subdued mood not at all common to his usual att.i.tude toward life, was very willing to act as messenger. Toward night, Max appeared at Rose Villa.

CHAPTER XVII

THE DOTTED LINE

"Sorry you are laid by, old man," Max said cheerfully as he was shown into Win's room. "Better luck soon."

"It's good of you to come," replied Win, grasping the hand so cordially offered and relieved to see that the pleasant young face bore no expression of the sympathetic pity Win so often read in older countenances.

"Well, my being here is as much of a surprise to me as to any one," said Max, sitting down by the bed. "On Friday I expected to spend my Sunday in Paris. But it chanced that I successfully engineered a rather ticklish job for the Emba.s.sy, and the Chief was pleased. As a figurative pat upon the head he gave me the week-end off. You should have seen the way my car went to Granville! Jean drove till we were clear of Paris and then I took the wheel and things began to hum. From the tail of my eye I could see Jean devoutly crossing himself whenever we hit the earth, but we made the boat and didn't so much as run down a hen. I did wonder that we weren't held up anywhere for exceeding the speed limit, but the mystery was explained when we reached the Granville pier."

Max stopped with a mischievous laugh. "The Emba.s.sy has several official machines," he explained, "and of course they are so marked they are easily recognizable. I always use my own car, and am authorized to sport the Emba.s.sy insignia when on official business. I forgot to remove it before starting and that was why not a single gendarme did more than salute as we tore past. Good joke, so long as it ended well, but if we'd come a cropper on the way, there'd have been rather a row and Max would have stood for an official wigging, to say the least. Lucky for us that nothing went wrong. What's done you up, old fellow?"

Win looked at him wistfully. "Just exploring the Manor cave," he said with a sigh. "I did so want to see it, and I made Roger take me. I managed to get down all right, but it took over an hour to climb the cliff. The kid is wild because he thinks he's half- killed me."

"Oh, say, that's a shame," said Max. "I wish I'd known that you wanted to go. Pierre and I could have rigged a rope somehow and helped you get back."

Win's face just then was pitiful. Max's eyes grew very gentle but he did not utter one word of sympathy. "I've been led a lively pace since I reached the Manor," he went on. "Between Connie's ghost hunt and the extraordinary church she chose to attend this morning and your discovery in the library, my existence hasn't lacked variety. Gay Paris is quiet beside this! But there's nothing in the world I'm so keen on as hidden treasure. I'm pretty sure I have a special talent for hunting it down. To be sure the only time I ever tried, I made a giddy a.s.s of myself and got into a jolly mess, but I wonder will I succeed with this. Connie thinks you've the tail of an idea. Can't you put me on?"

"That was what I wanted to see you for," replied Win, his self- possession quite restored. "Please open the lower drawer of that desk. Right on top is a roll of tracing paper."

"Why, this is a copy of the Manor plans," said Max, as he spread out the thin sheet.

"Yes," said Win. "Colonel Lisle let me trace them. Tell me, does anything about them strike you as odd?"

Max considered the plan carefully. "I can't say it does," he admitted after a minute survey. "Give me a lead."

"That dotted line," said Win, pointing to it with Max's pencil, "according to Colonel Lisle, marks the path down to the cottages on the sh.o.r.e, only the path curves more now than it did when the plan was first made. Don't you think it strange that it was the _only_ path put on the plans? Even the state driveway isn't indicated."

"That, I suppose, wasn't made then."

"But surely," persisted Win, "there was some driveway to the main road. Why should this especial path be marked? It couldn't have been the most important, even at that time."

"That does seem true," replied Max thoughtfully.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WIN'S PLAN OF THE MANOR CELLARS.]

"Now look at the point where the dotted line comes to the house,"

Win went on, tracing its course as he spoke. "This is the very oldest vault of all, under the library, you know. On the plan, its northern wall is continued flush by the northern side of the addition made later, and this dotted line runs parallel to it, but--it runs _inside_ the foundations."

"So it does," Max agreed. "But isn't that due to clumsy drawing?

There's an axiom, you know, about it being impossible for two bodies to occupy the same s.p.a.ce. Two lines couldn't occupy the same location on a plan."

"Yes," said Win, "but if this is a _path_, what is it doing _inside_ the house?"