“LA SOMNAMBULA”
When the bell for retiring rang at half-past nine that night, it produced a most remarkable effect, for, instead of suggesting snug beds and dream-land, it seemed instantly to banish any desire for sleep which the previous study hour from eight to nine had aroused in several of the girls.
They all went to their rooms, to be sure, but once within them a startling change took place. Instead of undressing like wise young people, they slipped off their dresses, and put on their night-dresses over the rest of their clothing, then all crawled into bed to await the first act of “La Somnambula.”
They had barely gotten settled when footsteps were heard coming softly down the corridor, as though the feet taking the steps were encased in wool slippers, and the owner of those feet wished to avoid being heard. A few steps were taken, then a pause made to listen, then on went the cat-like tread from door to door.
Toinette’s and Cicely’s rooms communicated, and just beyond, with another communicating door, was the room occupied by Ruth and Edith, but the door was always fastened. Perhaps Miss Preston considered three communicating rooms altogether too convivial, and decided that “an ounce of prevention was always worth a pound of cure.”
As the stealthy footfalls passed on down the hall, a light tap fell upon Toinette’s door, and, springing out of bed, she flew to give a corresponding tap, and listen for what might follow.
“Sh-h!” came in a whisper from the other side.
“Yes,” was the low reply.
“Did you hear the ‘Princess’ walk down the hall?” The Princess was the big Maltese house cat, and a privileged character.
“A pretty big cat,” was whispered back.
“That was Mother Stone, and she was just as anxious to avoid being heard by Miss Preston as she was anxious to hear what might be going on in our rooms. If Miss Preston caught her listening at anybody’s door, she would be angrier than if we sat up all night.”
“What does she think we’re up to, anyway?” whispered Toinette.
“No telling, but she knows we had a frolic last night and is on the lookout for another to-night, I guess.”
“Maybe she won’t look in vain,” laughed Toinette, softly.
Twelve o’clock had just been struck by the tall clock in the lower hall, when a white figure walked slowly down the corridor. Her hair fell in long, waving ringlets far below her waist, her pretty white hands were outstretched in front of her, and the great eyes, wide open, stared straight before her with a strange, unseeing stare. As she walked along she whispered softly to herself, but the words were hardly audible. On she went, through the long corridor, down the little side hall, which led to the pantry below, still muttering in that uncanny manner.
It had long been a standing joke in the school that Mrs. Stone slept like a cat, with one eye open and one ear alert for every sound, for she was continually hearing burglars, or marauders of some sort or other. So it is not surprising that before that ghost had gone very far another white figure popped its head out into the hall and uttered a smothered exclamation at sight of number one.
“Dear me! dear me!” she murmured, “my suspicions were not amiss. Poor, dear Marion, is so very self-confident. I was sure the last night’s folly would lead to something else. Such is invariably the case,” and she followed rapidly after the figure which was just vanishing around the turn in the lower hall.
“Those children are certainly planning another supper, and, what is far worse, are adding to the discredit of such an act by resorting to dishonest means of procuring the wherewithal for it. Oh, it is shocking, shocking! And yet Marion cannot be convinced that her girls are capable of deceit. Poor child, poor child, it is fortunate for her that there is someone at hand to come to her rescue at such a crisis,” and Mrs. Stone reached the bottom of the stairs just as the evil-intentioned ghost slipped into the housekeeper’s pantry.
“Really, I must be quite sure before I speak, or I may bring about still greater trouble. But what can she want here at this hour of the night if it be not some of Mrs. Store’s provisions?” and she wrung her hands in despair.
A dim light burned in the lower hall, rendering everything there plainly visible from above; and if Mrs. Stone had not been so distressed by that which was before her, she might have been aware of certain happenings just above her. Why did not some good fairy whisper in her ear just at that moment: “An’ had you one eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortune before you,” but there were apparently none out of Dream Land.
As her foot touched the lower step, five or six heads peered over the banister railing above, and what mystery of gravitation prevented as many bodies from toppling over after them I am unable to say.
“Do look! Do look! She is after her full tilt, girls,” whispered Cicely. “Didn’t I tell you it would be the funniest thing you ever saw?”
“Sh! She’ll hear us, and the whole thing will be spoilt,” said Ethel.
“No, indeed, she won’t,” answered Ruth, “she is too intent upon catching Toinette.”
“O, why can’t I stretch my neck out a yard or two so that I may see what is going on in that pantry? Come on girls, I’m going downstairs if I die for it,” and down crept Lou, followed by all the others, for there was no lack of bedroom slippers at Sunny Bank.
Meantime Toinette had entered the store-room, and, going straight to the corner where some smoked hams and bacon were hanging, took a monstrous ham from its hook, then, muttering, “Crackers, too, crackers, too,” opened the cracker box and drew forth a handful.
Mrs. Stone was thoroughly scandalized, but, just as she was about to speak, Toinette turned full upon her and said:
“Yes, I will have some mustard, and a beefsteak, and baked beans, please. Mrs. Stores had some on the table to-night.”
By this time Mrs. Stone began to realize that the girl was not accountable for her actions, for never was there a better bit of acting for an amateur. Yet she dared not wake her, for stories of the serious harm which had befallen somnambulists, when wakened suddenly in unfamiliar surroundings, flashed through her brain, and she was nearly beside herself with anxiety.
“What shall I do? what shall I do?” she said aloud in great distress; and, as though in answer to her question, Toinette answered:
“Go, tell Mrs. Stone that she isn’t up to snuff as much as she thinks she is.”
This was too much, and, laying her hand gently on Toinette’s arm, she said, softly:
“My dear child, hadn’t you better come back upstairs with me?”
Without changing her expression, Toinette replied:
“How oats, peas, beans and barley grow, nor you, nor I, nor Mrs. Stone knows,” and began to dance around in a circle with her ham tightly clasped in one arm, and the crackers scattering from one end of the pantry to the other.
Now thoroughly alarmed, and almost in tears, Mrs. Stone said:
“Oh, my dear, dear little girl, won’t you come back to your room with me?” and, grasping hold of Toinette’s arm, endeavored to lead her from the pantry.
“GO, TELL MRS. STONE SHE ISN’T UP TO SNUFF.”
But my lady was having altogether too good a time to end her frolic so soon, while the audience upon the stairs were nearly dying from their efforts not to scream. So, without changing that dreadful stare which she had maintained throughout her performance, she said, as though repeating Mrs. Stone’s own words:
“Come back—come back—come back, my Bonny, to me,” and turned to leave the pantry. She had barely gotten outside the door, however, when she paused, and, muttering something about lemons and pickles, slipped away from Mrs. Stone’s grasp and disappeared within the pantry again.
Trembling with excitement, Mrs. Stone stood for one instant, and then saying, “Miss Preston must be called, Miss Preston must be called,” turned and literally flew up the stairs, for once too lost to everything but the matter in hand to be aware of anything else, which was certainly fortunate for the white-robed figures, which nearly fell over each other in their scramble to escape.