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Fernley House, a novel by Laura E. Richards |
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Chapter 12. The Egg Of Columbus |
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_ CHAPTER XII. THE EGG OF COLUMBUS
"Oh, Uncle John!" "Well, sir, then--" "Then you know all the--" "Was it--" "Did you--" "Tell am what--" Mr. Montfort put his hands resolutely over his ears, and shut his eyes. "When you are still," he said, "I will tell you all about it; till then I am a blind deaf-mute, with no benefit of modern instruction." A swift rustle, followed by dead silence. Cautiously opening his eyes, Mr. Montfort saw the whole company seated on the floor around his chair, gazing at him with imploring eyes, but motionless and mute. He laughed heartily, and threw himself back in his chair. "I promised you a merry game," he said. "Have you had it?" The young people nodded like mandarins, but uttered no sound. "I promised you nothing more. In fact, I warned you not to expect anything more. On your own heads be egg and emptiness. "Well, well!" he added, "since you are so good and dutiful, you shall have the whole truth. I found the box some forty years ago, when I first stumbled on that closet. My dear mother was timid, and had a great dread of the Mysteries of Fernley, imagining a secret staircase in every wall, and an oubliette under every floor. Somebody had frightened her when she came here as a child, by showing her I forget what dark passage or closet. So we were never officially told of the various pleasant places devised by the eccentric old ancestor, Peter, who, I have always believed, was a smuggler before he was a patriot, and hid kegs as well as commanders in his smoke-closet. You know the story of General Blankley and the hams, Hugh? Remind me to tell you some day. Well, this being so, of course we youngsters were keen set on discovery; and we formed a league, called the Hovering Hawks. Each of us had his private totem or sign; and when he made a discovery, he left a totem to tell that he had been there. Jim's was an oyster-shell, because he considered the world his oyster; Dick's was a ship, because he always meant to be a sailor; Roger's was a book, of course, for obvious reasons; and mine was an egg, Columbus's egg, because I meant to find things out. You see there was no overstock of modesty among us, more than there is among most healthy boys. We were ready for anything and everything. I dare say some of you may have found oyster-shells about, in various inaccessible places?" Grace started, and blushed; then hung her head. "I--I found one," she admitted. "It was in a cubbyhole in the parapet of the roof. I thought of bringing it away, but it seemed as if some one had wanted to leave it there, so I didn't touch it." "Jim's Retreat," said Mr. Montfort. "He stayed up there two days once, in a fit of sulks, and frightened my poor dear mother almost into an illness. Father Montfort was away from home the first day; the second day he came home, and went up after Master James. He was a powerful man, Father Montfort, and an excellent climber. Yes, poor old Jim! he did not climb again for several days. Well, as I was saying, after all this very egotistical digression, I found the box in question some forty years ago. I withdrew the--a--contents--and substituted for them my totem. The contents I put--elsewhere." He looked round the circle, smiling. Margaret, gazing earnestly at him, saw his face, for the second time since she had known him, change from that of a grave, thoughtful man into that of a mischievous boy, the eager eyes alight with fun, the lips twitching with laughter. "Wouldn't--you--like--to--know?" he began slowly, his eyes turning from one to the other. Suddenly he broke off. "There! the play is over, children. Margaret, you found the casket, you shall find the--run your hand along the back of my chair here, my dear; where it feels cold, press downward." Margaret obeyed. A long narrow box or drawer shot out from the rolling back of the great mahogany chair. Obeying Mr. Montfort's gesture, Margaret lifted out of the nest of silky cotton something that sparkled and glittered in the firelight. There was a long-drawn sigh from the girls, a grunt of surprise from the men, but still no one spoke. "The pearls are for you, Margaret. I always meant them for you, my dear. I have taken them out every birthday and Christmas and looked at them, but there was always something else I wanted to give you just then, so I put the pretty playthings back again. Peggy, these pink topazes were made expressly for you, even if they have been waiting some time. No earrings, thank heaven! I could not see my girls in earrings. The diamonds I sent to Rita as a wedding present; you remember them, Margaret. Deceitful, was I, not to tell you their history? My child, I said they were family jewels, and so they were. The turquoises must be Jean's; put them on at once, little girl! Very pretty; very becoming. Now,--any more? It seems to me I remember one more article--ah!" Margaret drew out a long, delicate, glittering chain. At sight of it, Grace uttered a low cry of delight. "What is it?" she said. "I never saw anything so beautiful. Water and moonlight? What are the stones, Mr. Montfort, please?" "Aquamarine," said Mr. Montfort. "They are beautiful, though not of great value. Now what shall I do with this last trinket, I wonder?" "There is only one person who can possibly wear it," said Hugh, under his breath. His uncle heard him, and shot a keen, quizzical glance at him, which caused the philosopher to retire suddenly behind the shadow of the curtain. Margaret glided to her uncle's side, and whispered in his ear. Mr. Montfort nodded, smiling. "Just what I was thinking, Margaret," he said. "You read my thoughts accurately. My dear Miss Grace--by the way, isn't it time for me to leave off the 'Miss,' considering my age, and how well we know each other? 'Miss Grace' suggests 'disgrace,' which can have no possible connection with you. My dear Grace, then, as Margaret and others have said, there is only one person present who ought to wear this chain, and that person is yourself. Will you accept it as a little gift from Margaret and me, and from Cousin Christina?" Grace drew back, her eyebrows coming together in a look Peggy knew well. "I--You must excuse me," she began; but Mr. Montfort, going to her, took her hand kindly: "My child, do not refuse me this little pleasure. You surely do not expect me to wear the chain myself? and Margaret has more trumpery than is good for her already. Besides, as I said, the thing was manifestly made for you, and for you alone. And, besides, again, Grace,"--he drew her nearer, and spoke low,--"besides, again, you are an explorer, too; if you had lived twenty-five years ago, we should have had great excursions together. Take it, my dear, if for no other reason, because it is the gift of the boy who put the egg in the box!" _ |
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