Nan Sherwood's Summer Holidays Part 24

The group of three that finally won the evening's prize, a five pound note, climaxed their conquest of the crowd by donating the money to the village coronation fund! The winner of the bagpipe contest followed suit and then the Broad Jump champion, the winner of the Mile Run and the Hurdle Races joined in. Before the crowd really realized what it was doing, everyone was throwing coins toward the center of the field. The band started to play "G.o.d Save the King!" Everyone stood up. They sang, first the English National Anthem and then Scotch song after Scotch song.

Finally the lights blinked. The band played "G.o.d Save the King" again and everyone moved slowly away. It had been a grand evening with some fifty pounds added to the village fund for a stupendous celebration on the day of the crowning of the King and Queen.

Nan and her friends shook hands with the committee that had planned the evening's entertainment. Villager after villager stopped to talk with this young descendant of Hugh Blake who had come from far away America to see the old estate. They were simple folk, straightforward and honest in their appraisal of the brown-eyed American, but they found nothing to criticize. Somehow, Nan was able to make them feel that she was one of them, and as they went away gossiping about Old Hugh and young Nan, they all agreed that she was a "bonnie, bonnie la.s.sie."

The committee, escorting the visitors back to the carriage, urged them to stay in Emberon for the coronation celebration.

"Aye, and it will be a gr-r-r-and day here," William MacDonald, the chairman, urged. "In London, noo, I'll gr-r-r-ant ye, it will be ver-r-ry guid too, but mind ye, ye cudna find no better celebration than the one here at Emberon. It's ver-r-ry proud we are of his Royal Highness and her Ladys.h.i.+p. They pa.s.s here ver-r-ry often on their way to the North. Aye, and even once they stopped to watch the games. That was the time young MacDonald, my nephew, ye ken," he explained proudly, "tossed the caber so high and over so cleanly, that the guid king himself, mind ye, shook him by the hand. Aye, and that was a gr-r-r-and day." The old man stopped while he thought it all over again, remembering how he had stood right next to his nephew when the king congratulated him.

"Will ye stay?" He repeated his invitation, as with an effort, he shook the memory of that bygone day from his mind and came back to the present and the young Blake la.s.s.

"Noo, and she cudna," old James Blake stepped into the conversation.

"Ither, bigger things," he lapsed into the dialect of the villagers about him, "are hers in London town."

Old MacDonald looked up. A flash of understanding pa.s.sed between the two.

"Ye're right, Jamie," he said, "and she's a right bonnie la.s.s to carry on."

With this, Nan and her friends were hurried along by James Blake toward the carriage, and in the moonlight, they drove up the steep hill toward the gray castle on the summit.

CHAPTER XXIV

AN ACCIDENT NEAR THE CASTLE

What a ride! Earlier in the evening, Grace had called it spooky. Now she said nothing, but just sat thinking, watching the tall old trees through the carriage window as the equipage rumbled along.

She thought of her mother and father and Walter and of the coming meeting in London. She thought of Nan and her brother and smiled. She thought--but the thought winged away, as the carriage swayed far over to the right, and James Blake stuck his head out and shouted to the driver, "Be careful there!" The carriage slowed down. Grace breathed easier.

Then the warning was forgotten and the whole thing forged ahead again, b.u.mping over stones and rocks and ruts.

The horses seemed possessed. The old carriage creaked and groaned under the strain. Momentarily, the pa.s.sengers felt that the whole thing would topple over, or that the carriage, like the one-hoss shay, would collapse into a thousand pieces. Grace now was visibly frightened. Nan looked at her anxiously and gave a warning look to Bess whom, she was afraid, would break out in a tirade against the carelessness of the driver. Finally, they rounded the sharp turn in the road which Nan remembered as just preceding the castle gates.

They all breathed easier. They could see the castle now, beyond the gates and beyond the drive. But just as they looked rea.s.suringly at one another, just as old James Blake murmured, "Home again," the carriage gave a sharp lurch. The horses stopped suddenly, stumbled, regained their balance, and then stood, shaking their heads vigorously. The carriage gave one mighty shake, s.h.i.+vered, and settled down to silence on its ancient springs.

Inside, the occupants were jolted one on top of the other. The girls unscrambled quickly. Young and hardy, the jolt did not hurt them, but old James Blake had toppled over so that he was lying senseless against the door.

Nan knelt down beside him. She pulled out a handkerchief and pushed his tousled hair back from his face. There was an ugly gash in his forehead.

Dr. Prescott felt his pulse. It was faint. Together, they raised him to the seat.

They called for the coachman. There was no answer. They exchanged significant glances. "Do you suppose he was hurt, too?" Grace could hardly speak she was so frightened.

Laura made a move to get out, but as she did so old James Blake stirred.

"Dinna go out there," he murmured as he slowly opened his eyes. He looked around. His eyes found Nan and he reached out and touched her. "I dinna ken what it's all aboot," he said weakly and seemed about to drop off again. He caught himself.

He raised his hand and tried to push the door open. It was stuck. He knocked at it weakly with his fist. Then he kicked at it and it flew open.

"Hey, up there," he called to the coachman.

There was no answer. He got out, slowly and painfully. Nan followed and took his arm. He patted hers rea.s.suringly.

"Better take care, la.s.s," he murmured, half stumbling, half walking around to the front of the coach. Nan shook herself impatiently as an eerie feeling came over her. Nevertheless, it was comforting to hear someone descend from the coach at her back.

"Be careful, Nan." Dr. Prescott's voice came through the darkness.

"Can I help you?" It was Laura's tone, low and confident.

"We're all right," Nan called back. She stood now, next to James Blake looking up at the coachman's seat. It was empty!

What had happened? A number of possibilities flashed through Nan's mind as she moved closer to James Blake. Had the driver been hurt and fallen down the other side? Had he jumped down and run away after the carriage stopped so suddenly? Had--had he been in the carriage at all during the wild drive up the hill?

She followed James Blake as he picked his way carefully around the whinnying horses. Was this all a part of the strange series of events that had seemed to pursue her ever since she knew for certain that she was to make this trip?

Nan stepped up beside the old Scotsman when he paused to examine the feet of one of the horses in pa.s.sing. What did he know about all of this? She determined to ask him when they were alone again. Now, she took comfort in noting the kindly expression on his face as he rubbed the head of one of the horses that seemed to be hurt. The animal nuzzled his nose in the master's hand.

"Easy now," he encouraged and almost at once the animals stopped the impatient shaking of their heads.

They reached the other side of the coachman's seat and fearfully looked around. There was nothing there. They walked back over the road for several yards. Still they found no signs of the missing person.

James Blake scratched his head reflectively. "Come, now," he took Nan's hand firmly in his, "come, stay close to me and we'll clear this mystery up." His voice sounded confident, but inside he was sure, as sure as he was of anything that this was no mere accident.

He felt the warmness of Nan's hand in his. He noted her apparent fearlessness. "The la.s.s should never have been allowed to come to Emberon," he thought and was annoyed that his own desire to see her had allowed him, in the early months of the year, to persuade himself that it would be all right.

Why hadn't he allowed the Edinburgh solicitors who had handled the estate carry out the final terms of the will of old Hugh without his meddling? Ah, but it was too late to think of that now. She was here and had to stay, at least for the night. Perhaps tomorrow he could send her on to Edinburgh. But now, now it was best to get her mind off this--accident. It was best to get her back in her apartment at Emberon.

He could guard her there.

"Come, la.s.s," he spoke, as he turned from his search along the side of the road, "these things are not for young ladies. You and your friends must go back to the house. We'll let someone from there make the necessary inquiry."

"But what if the coachman is lying along the road, hurt?" Nan protested. "If we wait, it might be too late to help him. Please, let me look down the road a way further." She almost wrenched her hand free from his as she spoke.

"That's a brave la.s.s," he complimented her. Nevertheless he didn't let her go. He turned abruptly and started back toward the carriage. Against her will, she went along with him.

"Did you find him?" Laura was waiting beside the door of the carriage as they came up to it again.

Nan shook her head. What was this all about? Why had old James Blake stopped the search for the missing coachman so suddenly? Exhausted from the day's events, the landing at Glasgow, the trip to Emberon, the excitement over the Scotch games, and then this mystery, she felt impatient with the old gentleman. She was still afraid that the coachman lay out there in the dark somewhere, injured.

Her feeling of impatience continued as James hustled the girls into the carriage, closed the door after them, and then walked alone to the big gate and pulled three times on the big bell rope.

In the stillness of the night, the girls, huddled in the carriage, could hear very faintly the sound of the bell up at the big house. Then they heard, or thought they heard, the sound of a door, footsteps, and at long last, there was someone at the gate. Though they couldn't see anyone, they knew that James Blake was in whispered consultation.

Finally, there was the grating noise of the gates swinging back on rusty hinges. James Blake sent a man from the house to drive the carriage the rest of the way. The girls were glad to hear the slapping sound of the reins as the new driver put them in place over the horses' backs.

The carriage pulled out of a rut, lunged forward and then came to a stop again.

"Careful!" The voice was that of the old steward. The driver tried again. This time a horse stumbled.