A College Girl by Mrs George de Horne Vaizey (reading in the dark .TXT) 📖

across the lawn she met Ralph’s eyes fixed upon her with an expression of patronising commiseration. He was pitying her, because she had come back empty-handed when sharper eyes had reaped so rich a harvest! That touch of superiority made short work of Darsie’s hesitation. She would show that she was in no need of pity, that so far from being overpowered by failure, she remained jaunty and self-confident enough to turn her own disappointment into a joke for the amusement of others! With head thrown back she marched dramatically forward to the spot where Mrs Percival stood, the gracious mistress of the ceremonies, and held the bundle towards her in extended hands.

“Dear child, what have you there? A bundle—a workman’s bundle! Where in the world have you discovered that?”

“In the trunk of an old tree, in the orchard near the wall.”

“In the orchard? It belongs most likely to one of the men. His dinner, I should say, but what an odd place to hide it! So dirty!” She gave a dainty little shake of distaste. “I should put it away, dear, really! It is covered with dust.”

“It’s a very lumpy dinner,” said Darsie, patting the surface of the bundle with curious fingers. “I thought perhaps it was a treasure done up in a different way from the others. It’s heavy, too, far heavier than bread and cheese. I can open it, can’t I? Just to make sure!”

“Oh, certainly, if you like—” assented Mrs Percival dubiously, and Darsie waited for no further permission, but promptly knelt down on the grass and set to work to untie the knotted ends of the checked handkerchief. The surrounding guests gathered around in a laughing circle, being in the gay and gratified frame of mind when any distraction is met halfway, and ensured of a favourable reception. What was this pretty girl about? What joke was hidden away in this commonplace-looking bundle?

The knot was strongly tied, but Darsie’s fingers were strong also and in a minute’s time it was undone, and the corners of the handkerchief dropped on the grass to reveal an inner bag of thick grey linen tied again round the mouth.

“It is lumpy!” repeated Darsie again; then with a tug the string came loose, and lifting the bag in her hands, she rained its contents over the grass.

Was it a dream? Was it some fantasy of imagination—some wonderful effect of sunshine shining upon hundreds and hundreds of dewdrops, and turning them into scintillating balls of light, catching reflections from the flowers in yonder beds, and sending dancing rays of red, blue, and green across the grass? Red and blue and green the rainbow drops gleamed upon the ground, vivid and clear as the loveliest among the blossoms, but possessed of a radiance which no earth flower had inherited before.

Darsie sat back on her heels, her arms, falling slack by her sides, her wide eyes fixed on the ground in a surprise too complete for speech. Nobody spoke; the stupor in her own brain must surely have communicated itself to the guests crowding around, for while one might have counted fifty there was blank, utter silence upon the lawn. Then suddenly came a dramatic interruption; a cry, almost a scream, in a high, feminine voice, and a tall, fashionably dressed woman grasped wildly at a dangling chain of stones.

“My rubies! My rubies! My beautiful, beautiful rubies! Found again! Safe! Oh, my rubies!” She burst into excited sobs, a gentleman came forward and led her gently aside, but her place was immediately taken by other women—white-faced, eager, trembling with anxiety.

“Oh! Oh–h—let me look! It’s the jewels, the lost jewels— Are my diamonds among them? Do you see a diamond necklace with an emerald clasp? Oh, do, do look!”

“My sapphires! They were taken, too. My sapphires!—”

They fell on their knees, regardless of their filmy draperies, and grasped at one shining treasure after another. The delicate chains were knotted together; curved corners of gold had caught in other curved corners, so that in some cases half a dozen different ornaments presented the appearance of one big, bejewelled ball, and it was no easy matter to disentangle one from the other. The different owners, however, showed a marvellous quickness in recognising even a fragment of their lost treasures, and their exultation was somewhat undignified as they turned and twisted and coaxed the dainty threads, and finally clasped their lost treasures, safe and sound, and all the time Darsie sat back on her heels, with her golden hair hanging in heavy masses over her shoulders, her eyes fixed upon this extraordinary scene, staring—staring!

“Darsie, dear child, how can we thank you?” Mrs Percival’s low voice trembled with earnestness; she had lifted a long string of pearls from the grass, and now held it between both hands, with a transparent pleasure it was true, but without any of the hysteric excitement shown by her guests.

“Do you realise all that your workman’s bundle contained, or the weight you have taken off our minds? It was the thief’s bundle, the bundle of jewels which he stole from the house on the night of the Hunt Ball, which we have tried so hard to recover! To think—to think that all this time they have been hidden close at hand!”

“Hidden with a purpose, too! Look at this, Evelyn!” interrupted Mr Percival, holding out a corner of the checked handkerchief towards his wife, with a stern look on his handsome face—

“‘B.W.’ That’s Wilson’s property! He was a worse offender than we thought.”

“Wilson? That was the young gamekeeper, wasn’t it?” asked another man—the husband of the lady who was still crooning over her recovered diamonds. “You thought he had been led away by smart London thieves, but this seems as if he had taken a leading part. Looks, too, as if there may have been only himself and Forbes in the affair!”

“Just so! No wonder Wilson refused to give the names of his colleagues. When the chase grew too hot he hid the spoils in this tree—evidently an old hiding-place—before climbing the wall. If he had made clear away that night we should never have suspected his share in the theft. He would have turned up as usual next morning, and expressed great surprise at the news. As it is he and Forbes are no doubt patiently waiting until their sentences are out, expecting to slip back some dark night and secure their prey. From such point of view it is a small business to serve a few months when there’s a fortune waiting at the end! Well, this takes ten years off my back. I can’t tell you how the whole business has preyed on our minds. My dear fellow, I am so thankful that your diamonds have turned up!”

“My dear fellow, it was fifteen times worse for you than for us! A most uncomfortable position; I congratulate you a hundred times. Just in the nick of time, too. In a month or so there would have been no bundle to discover.”

A general gasp at once of dismay and relief passed round the little inner circle of those most nearly interested in the recovered treasures, and the first excitement of recovery having passed, every one seemed bent on lavishing thanks and praises upon the girl through whom the happy discovery had come about.

“Who is she?”

“What is her name?”

“Where does she come from?” The questions buzzed on every side, and the answer, “Lady Hayes’s grand-niece,” served only to enhance existing attractions. Darsie found herself kissed, patted, embraced, called by a dozen caressing names by half a dozen fine ladies in turn, during which process every eye on the lawn was turned upon her blushing face. Through a gap in the crowd she could see Lady Hayes holding as it were a secondary court, being thanked effusively for possessing a grand-niece with a faculty for recovering jewels, and bowing acknowledgments with a bright patch of colour on either cheekbone. The position was so strange and bewildering that even yet it seemed more like a dream than reality; that sudden rain of jewels descending from the linen bag was the sort of thing one might expect in an Arabian night adventure rather than in the midst of a decorous English garden-party! It must surely be in imagination that she, Darsie Garnett, has been hailed as a good fairy to all these fashionably dressed men and women!

The almost hysteric effusion of the women who kissed and gushed around her must surely have something infectious in its nature, since she herself was beginning to feel an insane inclination to burst into tears or laughter, it was immaterial which of the two it should be. Darsie turned a quick look around, searching for a way of escape, and at that moment Noreen’s hand pressed on her arm, and she found herself being led gently towards the house.

“Poor old Darsie, then! She looks quite dazed!” said Noreen’s voice. “No wonder, after all that fuss. You’ve been kissed to pieces, poor dear, and howled over, too. Silly things! howling when things are lost, and howling again when they are found! I’ve no patience with them; but, oh, my dear, I do bless you for what you’ve done! You’ve no idea how relieved we shall be. It was such a stigma to have your guests robbed under your own roof, and by one of your own men, too. Mother has never been the same since—worried herself into nerves, and fancied every one blamed her, and thought she’d been careless. You can’t think how happy she’ll be writing to the people who aren’t here to-day telling them that their things are found. She’ll feel a new creature.”

“I’m so glad. She’s a dear. Wasn’t she sweet and dignified among them all? Oh, dear! I’m all churned up. I thought as I couldn’t find a treasure I’d have a little joke on my own account, and after all I found the biggest treasure of all, Noreen! how much money were those things worth?”

“Oh, my dear, don’t ask me! Mother’s pearls alone are worth three thousand, and that’s nothing to the rest. Mrs Ferriers’ rubies are the most valuable, I believe. Altogether it must be a fortune—to say nothing of the associations. Isn’t it strange to think of? An hour ago you were a stranger whom scarcely any one knew even by sight, and now in a flash you have become a celebrity, a heroine—the pet of the county!”

“Am I? Really? It sounds agreeable. I’ll write to-night and tell Vie Vernon, and sign myself ‘The Pet of the County.’ She will be impressed. Pity it wasn’t my own county, where it would be of more use. I shall probably never see these good people again.”

“Fiddle!” cried Noreen derisively. “No chance of that. Whether you like it or no, my dear, this day has settled your fate. You can never be a mere acquaintance any more. You’ve done us a service which will bind us together as long as we live. Henceforth a bit of you belongs to us, and we’ll see that we get it!”