Chapter VII: Sir Richard Tells Dick of the Secret Passage

IT was an intensely hot day in July, and Sir Richard Gidley was taking his after luncheon nap in his favourite high-backed chair in the dining-room at the Manor House, his handkerchief spread over his face to keep the flies from worrying him. Through the low, open window came the drowsy hum of insects, and the perfume of roses, mignonette, and stocks; but Sir Richard was unconscious of scent or sound for the time being, as he was in the land of dreams—not pleasant dreams, it would seem, for he moved uneasily now and then, and murmured with evident discontent.

At length an unusual sound came through the open window—a child's gay laugh, full of merriment and the joy of life. The strange sound awoke Sir Richard at once. He pulled the handkerchief off his face and listened, but all was silent.

"I thought I heard some one laughing," he muttered. "I suppose I must have been dreaming; I fancied it might have been Dick come to see me at last. Pooh, how my mind dwells on the boy! Three days since I met him and Miss Warren in the village, and I have neither seen nor heard of him since! Can the Warrens be purposely keeping him away, I wonder? No, I do not think they would do that! Ah! there it is again! I was not mistaken!"

Sir Richard rose hastily and walked to the window. The scene that met his eyes brought an involuntary smile to his lips. Upon the lawn were two figures—his grandson and his favourite dog, Nero, a large black Newfoundland. The dog, seated on his haunches, had his head decorated with Dick's broad-brimmed sailor's hat, whilst the little boy knelt at his side laughing. Usually, Nero brooked no interference from strangers; but for some reason, he alone knew what, he had taken a great fancy to Dick, and was allowing him more license than he gave other people.

"Halloa!" cried Sir Richard, stepping into the garden; "have you and Nero become playfellows?"

Dick sprang to his feet at the sound of his grandfather's voice, and drawing his slight form to its fullest height, gravely raised his hand in a military salute; then he took his hat from Nero's head, and hurried to meet Sir Richard, whilst the dog followed at his heels.

"Yes," he replied gaily; "we have made friends with each other. How do you do, grandfather? I came alone—that is, from the lodge—Uncle Theophilus left me there. I said I could find my way to the house!"

"Have you just arrived?" Sir Richard asked.

"Oh, no; I have been here quite a long while! I did not go to the door, though; I peeped into the window there, and saw you with a handkerchief over your face, and guessed you were asleep. I thought I had better not disturb you; so I was going to wait quietly till you woke up, but Nero came round the corner of the house, and I have been playing with him. What a jolly dog he is, grandfather!"

"Yes; but I did not know he cared for children. Were you not afraid of him?"

"No, indeed! I spoke to him, and he came to me at once, wagging his tail. I held out the back of my hand to him, like I've seen father do to strange dogs. He sniffed at it, and then gave it a lick. I knew he was all right as soon as he did that."

Dick put one arm around the great dog's neck, whereupon the beautiful creature turned his eyes upon him affectionately.

"There, grandfather!" cried the little boy delightedly. "Can't you see he likes me? Look at the smile in his eyes! What lovely eyes he has too—just the colour of the amber necklace my ayah used to wear! Oh, you dear Nero!"

Sir Richard sat down upon a garden seat, and Dick took a place by his side, whilst Nero laid his head on his new friend's knee, and watched him intently with his amber eyes.

"So you had no difficulty in finding your way from the lodge," Sir Richard said. "I was beginning to think Dr. Warren and his sister meant to keep you to themselves. You have been in no hurry to come and see me!"

"Did you expect me before?" Dick questioned in surprise. "Of course I would have come if I had known that! But I've really been awfully busy these last few days!"

"Indeed! What have you been doing?"

"Helping Aunt Mary Ann in the garden for one thing, washing the insects off the roses, and tying up the carnations. Oh, by the way, we have three bantam chicks! They were only hatched out yesterday; and we were so anxious about them! Aunt Mary Ann half thought one egg was addled; but it wasn't—the chick was hatched out all right after all, though it's not nearly so strong as the other two. You don't keep bantams, do you?"

"No; I do not," Sir Richard responded, amused at his grandson's chatter. "What else has occupied your time?"

"Oh, I've written to mother and father. I began the letter days ago and finished it last night. Uncle Theophilus helped me with the spelling—he wrote too. And oh, grandfather, I've not seen you since I heard from India, have I?"

"No."

"I've had such a beautiful letter from mother, and a few words from father at the end just what he always says, you know."

"What does he always say?" Sir Richard asked curiously, his eyes fixed, on the boy's changing countenance, which quivered with suppressed emotion as he spoke of his parents.

"Be a brave boy! God bless you!" Dick quoted in husky tones. He passed the back of his hand hastily over his eyes, but could not repress a sigh that sounded almost like a sob. He set his teeth, and determined he would not cry if he could possibly help it; his grandfather would think him such a baby!

"Are Dr. Warren and his sister kind to you?" the old man inquired abruptly.

"Oh, yes," Dick replied eagerly; "indeed they are! They are kind as kind can be! You see," he continued confidentially, "they took care of mother when she was a little girl, and now they are going to take care of me till mother and father come home."

"They are very worthy people, no doubt!" Sir Richard remarked drily.

Dick scanned his grandfather's face with puzzled eyes; for he did not understand his tone, although it annoyed him somehow. He flushed, and turned his head aside, whilst he wondered if it was possible Sir Richard did not like Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus. But it was not in his nature to be silent long, so presently he re-opened the conversation.

"This is a beautiful place," he remarked, glancing around him admiringly; "but I should think you must feel very lonely here, all by yourself, don't you, grandfather?"

"It is dull sometimes," Sir Richard acknowledged. "I do not get many visitors. In August I suppose my daughter and her children will come here for a month—your Aunt Arabella—Mrs. Compton—and your cousins, Ruth and Lionel. Ruth is about your age, Lionel a year or so older. I hope you will make friends with them."

"I did not know I had any cousins," Dick replied; "but I am very glad." He was smiling with pleasure at the thought of meeting these relations of his. "And I am very glad one is a boy!" he added.

"They tell me Ruth is a perfect hoyden," Sir Richard proceeded, "and Lionel a domineering, high-spirited boy. But they do not interfere with me when they are here; their mother manages to keep them in order whilst in my presence, at any rate, though Susan Morecombe declares she spoils them. I hope you will see as much of your cousins as you can; the society of children about your own age will be beneficial for you. Mind you hold your own with Lionel; and remember you have as much right—nay, more right—in this house than he has."

Dick looked decidedly mystified, seeing which, his grandfather explained what he meant.

"This will be your home one day," he said earnestly; "your father will inherit the property from me, and you will inherit it from him. Look around and try to think what that means. Everything you see will one day belong to you. You will be the master here."

Dick did not appear so greatly impressed with this information as his grandfather thought he would be. He sat silently turning the matter over in his young mind, growing more and more puzzled.

"Well," cried Sir Richard at length, rather testily. "Are you not pleased? I should have thought you would have been delighted at the idea of being a person of some importance. To think that your father has brought you up in ignorance of your true position! And yet he always professed to love his home! I have heard him say there was no place so dear to him as the Manor House! I remember when he was a little lad no bigger than you, he used to find endless amusement in looking for the secret passage, and—"

"What is that?" Dick asked, his face showing greater interest than it had done when his grandfather had tried to raise his enthusiasm in his prospects in life.

"There is said to be a tunnel—a secret passage—leading from this house to the sea-shore," Sir Richard explained. "It may have been made at the time the house was built, or later, during the civil wars when the Gidleys sided with the king. There is a very aged man living in the village called Granfer Cole, who has often told me he remembers when he was a boy hearing his father speak of the secret passage—it was then used by smugglers for the concealment of contraband goods."

"What are contraband goods?" Dick asked.

"Goods brought from foreign countries which have never had taxes paid on them. A hundred years ago a great deal of smuggling was carried on along this coast; silk, wine, brandy, and many other commodities were landed here by stealth under cover of darkness, in order to escape payment of the custom-house duties. That was cheating the revenue; but even gentlemen then were not above lending a helping hand to do that, and the master of this house was doubtless among those who deliberately winked at the smuggler's doings. The secret passage must have been a capital place of concealment for the smugglers and their treasures. Granfer Cole says he can remember the time when there was not a household in Holton, however humble, but kept a supply of best French brandy; it was obtained at a cheap rate, for every one was hand and glove with the smugglers."

"Were smugglers good sort of men?" Dick inquired.

Sir Richard smiled sarcastically, and shook his head as he replied:—

"They were neither honest nor law-abiding, but they were a daring lot, and had many sympathisers even among the higher classes."

"But if they were not honest, how was it people liked them?" Then as Sir Richard made no reply, Dick exclaimed: "How I should like to see that secret passage! Haven't you the least idea where it is, grandfather?"

"Not the very least! I have no doubt the entrance to the passage from the sea-shore has become blocked by stones and rubble; I have no clue to the other entrance either—many and many a time I have tried to think where it can possibly be, and your father used to be continually searching the floors and walls of the cellars beneath the house, hoping to find the entrance there, but all to no purpose. If there is a passage, and I believe there is, it must be more than half a mile in length!"

"Oh, what a wonderful place this is!" Dick cried excitedly. "May I tell Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus about the secret passage when I go home?"

"Certainly," Sir Richard replied carelessly, "though I daresay they know as much about it as I do! By the way, is Dr. Warren going to fetch you, or will he expect me to send you home?"

"Oh, Uncle Theophilus said he would fetch me about seven o'clock! May I see the picture-gallery before I go, grandfather?"

"Yes. Go into the house and find Susan Morecombe. Tell her to get tea ready in the dining-room. You can wander where you please about the house, as long as you do not get into mischief."

Dick thanked his grandfather, and went off in search of Susan Morecombe, entering the house by the dining-room window. Nero followed him, whilst Sir Richard remained seated on the garden seat a little longer. The old man felt in a decidedly better humour since his visitor had arrived. It had gratified him to see how deeply interested Dick had been in their conversation, though he was somewhat disappointed that the boy had evinced no great pleasure at learning he would one day be the owner of the Manor House. Certainly his would be a goodly heritage! Pride and satisfaction mingled in Sir Richard's heart as he glanced around him at the ancient house, and the fair landscape which stretched before it. He was better pleased with his grandson than he had been on that day when he had met him for the first time in the doctor's drawing-room; then, he had seen only a small, pale-faced boy; now, he recognised the brave spirit which animated the fragile form, and was more satisfied.

Meanwhile Dick, in company with Susan Morecombe, was paying his second visit to the picture-gallery, asking dozens of questions, and receiving much information in return. Then he had a splendid tea of raspberries and cream, and another talk with his grandfather before Dr. Warren arrived in his gig to take him away.

"Come again! Come when you like!" Sir Richard said to Dick after he had exchanged a few words with the doctor.

"Oh, thank you!" the little boy replied, thinking how much pleasanter his grandfather seemed to-day than on the occasion of his first visit to the Manor House. "I have enjoyed myself so much! May I come again soon?"

"Yes," the old man nodded, looking gratified. He turned to Dr. Warren, and added: "The child appears brighter and stronger already!"

"Ah, the scaffolding is sound enough," the doctor returned quaintly; "there's a good frame-work to build upon; we'll soon put a little flesh on his bones!"

Sir Richard watched the gig as it slowly disappeared from sight, Firefly taking his time as usual. At that moment he almost wished he had consented to make a home for his grandson at the Manor House; he felt lonely now he was gone. Nero came and poked his cold, damp nose into his master's hand, and looked up into the old man's face with his expressive eyes.

"Are you sorry your playfellow has left?" said Sir Richard, as he gently patted his favourite's head. "Would you, too, have liked him to remain? Never mind, Nero, he will come again!"