CHAPTER XVI
THE DESERT ISLAND
The night before the departure of the Baxters for Brighton the spectacle of a huge pile of packed boxes and the report that the family were fleeing from the doomed mansion, never to return, had caused a fresh outbreak of hysterical panic among the remaining servants. And scarcely was the car out of sight bearing the Baxter party to the station when a deputation from the servants' hall, hatted, coated and handbagged and headed by Parker, waited on Mrs. Merle, as the senior representative of the family, and told her that they were very sorry, but nothing would induce them to spend another hour in the house. Only out of consideration for poor Mrs. Baxter had they remained until her departure.
For the first time in her life Harriet, confronted by an emergency, totally lost the power of speech. When at length she recovered her breath and words were ready to flow, she found herself alone; the deputation had left the room, closing the door quietly behind itself.
Half an hour later the station-master at Ippingford telephoned to say that two servants who had arrived on the early train from London, on learning, at the station, the cause of the vacancy they were required to fill, had taken the first train back to town.
As Harriet put up the receiver, she heard the diminishing hish of wheels on the damp gravel outside. The sound died away and a sudden quiet came upon Ipping House, a stillness that smote Harriet's nerves like the stillness that awakens the passengers on an ocean liner when the engines stop working in the night. To tell the truth, the situation was much the same, for with the exception of Anton, the chauffeur, Hester, the new sewing girl, and Mrs. Pottle at the lodge, there was not a single servant left at Ipping House.
"What will Horatio say?" thought Harriet.
To Harriet's utter amazement, Horatio, when told what had happened, remained perfectly calm; he even smiled. She stared at him open-mouthed.
"Horatio! Have you heard a single word I've been telling you?"
"Yes, my dear."