“No, and you never were meant to hear about it, either,” was the grim rejoinder, “if those children hadn’t been prying about as they had no right to have done, they wouldn’t have known anything of it, and all this terrible business would never have come to pass.”
“But when you say a bee-room,” asked Phoena, “do you mean a room full of bees? I thought bees were always kept out of doors.”
“Well, and so they always are,” said Nanny, “but that was the odd thing about this room. Years and years ago, so long ago, that no one can remember when, a swarm of bees took possession, first of the real roof over that room, and then of the false roof—that space, you know, between the outer and inner walls of the upper storey—till at last, they ended by invading the room itself. It was used, no doubt, as an odd sort of lumber room, never as a living room, for though it has a door and a chimney, there’s no proper window to it. Clouds of bees are always flying round the chimney, and very often swarms come from there. There must be thousands and thousands of bees at home in that room now. One gentleman, so Mrs. Busson told me, who was a visitor in this neighbourhood, and heard of the room, was very anxious to open it at his own risk and expense, for he was specially curious about bees and their ways, but the farmer wouldn’t hear of it being touched. He always vowed that it should never be disturbed in his time, as his father and grandfather had said before him.”
“Why, of course, the risk of such a thing must have seemed dreadful,” said Faith, in awe-struck tones.
“Risk! I should think so,” said Nanny, “there, as I said, if it hadn’t been for Joe Wintle, I don’t believe we’d any of us been left here.”
“But what did Joe Wintle do?” enquired Faith.
“Well, you see, those children had smashed in half the lower part of the door, so they had made a fine disturbance amongst all the bees they had dislodged, and they all came flying about like mad. So Joe, like a wise man, rushed down to the village, and got hold of a sheet of zinc, which he nailed right over the broken panel of the door. He put on his regular bee-dress first; then he fitted a thick shutter over the whole door, so there’s no likelihood now of any more bees escaping. But, oh, the hundreds and thousands that came buzzing out, at first, you wouldn’t believe. Every one of us got pretty nicely stung, I can tell you.”
“Were you badly hurt, Nanny?” asked Fay, politely.
“Of course I was, Miss Faith, but a blue-bag, and some sweet oil set me right. Poor Libbie was badly punished, her left hand is just a sight; she worked so hard to get Miss Di free.”
“I suppose Di and Andrew were dreadfully frightened when they found out what they had done?” enquired Phoena.