Madge Morton\'s Secret
A >>
Amy D. V. Chalmers >> Madge Morton\'s Secret
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 20737-h.htm or 20737-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/0/7/3/20737/20737-h/20737-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/0/7/3/20737/20737-h.zip)
MADGE MORTON'S SECRET
by
AMY D. V. CHALMERS
Author of Madge Morton, Captain of the Merry Maid;
Madge Morton's Trust, Madge Morton's Victory.
[Illustration: The Girl in the Apple Tree Read on.
_Frontispiece._]
Philadelphia
Henry Altemus Company
Copyright, 1914,
by Howard E. Altemus
CONTENTS
CHAPTER.
PAGE.
I. THE INTERRUPTED STORY 7
II. WHAT MADGE FOUND IN THE ATTIC 18
III. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 35
IV. THE CHALLENGE 46
V. THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 57
VI. FLORA BETRAYS A STATE SECRET 66
VII. AWARDING THE PRIZES 76
VIII. THE HOUR OF TRIUMPH 95
IX. MADGE MORTON'S SECRET 102
X. ADRIFT ON CHESAPEAKE BAY 108
XI. THE AWAKENING 120
XII. A DESERTED ISLAND 132
XIII. LIFE IN THE WOODS 142
XIV. CAUGHT IN A STAMPEDE 152
XV. BEHIND CLOSED DOORS 165
XVI. THE DISAPPOINTED KNIGHTS 173
XVII. CAN WE GO TO THE RESCUE? 183
XVIII. A NEW USE FOR A KITE 193
XIX. THE IMPOSSIBLE HAPPENS 201
XX. THE RECOGNITION 212
XXI. BACK TO THE "MERRY MAID" 219
XXII. THE STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER 226
XXIII. THE SURPRISE 237
XXIV. THE TELLING OF THE SECRET 248
Madge Morton's Secret
CHAPTER I
THE INTERRUPTED STORY
A girl in a green gown was cosily ensconced among the spreading
branches of an old apple tree. She was reading, and she never stirred
except to turn the pages of her book or to reach out for another red
apple after dropping the core of the previous one.
It was a glorious morning in early September, and the old Virginia
orchard was sweet with the odor of ripening apples. A press under a
tree still dripped with the juices of yesterday's cider-making. The
bees and flies buzzed lazily about it. There was no one but the girl in
sight.
Some distance to the left was a red brick house, separated from the
orchard by a low stone fence and the length of the kitchen garden. It
had a big, white colonnaded balcony in front and a smaller veranda in
the rear.
The girl in the apple tree read on, unaware that a carriage had driven
up to the front of this house and that a woman and a young man were
alighting from it. A few moments later a girl came out on the back
veranda. She put her hands to her lips and hallooed. She whistled and
called. Then she ran up and down the garden, searching everywhere.
"Madge, Madge! where are you?" she cried. "Oh, do answer me in a hurry!
I have something so important to tell you!"
The girl in the apple tree did not stir. She was oblivious to
everything except her story. Her cousin, Eleanor, called and called
again, then ran to the stables. Pompey, the colored boy, declared that
he had not seen Miss Madge all morning. Once Eleanor leaned over the
orchard fence. The green of Madge's frock was too near the color of the
foliage to show through the trees. Eleanor gave up her search in
despair.
"All right, Madge Morton," she murmured, "if you will go off by
yourself without telling a soul where you are going, you must take the
consequences--though I am so sorry," added Eleanor. "Poor Madge will be
so disappointed."
An hour later a book dropped from the apple tree to the ground,
bringing a scurry of leaves with it. Madge Morton descended after her
book, swinging herself down without a thought of her dignity. "Oh, dear
me!" she exclaimed. "Why did I have to drop my book when I had only a
few more pages to read? I suppose it is nearly luncheon time now, and I
ought to see what has become of Nellie."
Madge strolled lazily along under the fruit trees. Now and then she
stopped to look critically at the heavily-laden branches. Mr. William
Butler, her uncle, owned a fruit farm, consequently the girl was
interested in their autumn and winter crop of apples.
At the gate of the orchard she paused to peep at her book for another
stolen moment and came face to face with her cousin. Although it was
not yet midday, Eleanor Butler had on a white company frock and her
hair had been freshly braided. Madge did not see her cousin at first.
Nellie eyed her sympathetically, but at the same time her face wore an
expression of disapproval. "Where have you been, Madge?" she demanded.
"You've gone and done it this time, I can tell you; I have been looking
for you for more than an hour."
"Sorry, Coz," returned Madge lightly. "Did Aunt Sue want me? I have
been reading in the orchard. But why are you dressed so bravely? We
can't be having a party at this early hour of the day."
Nellie looked serious. "We have not had a party," she returned, "but we
have had some visitors. We had iced tea and cakes on the front porch,
too."
"Lucky me, to have escaped the company, Eleanor. It is much too warm
for morning callers, even if it is September," declared Madge
indifferently. "I'll wager that they talked gossip and bored you and
Auntie dreadfully."
"They did no such thing," replied Eleanor, nettled by her cousin's
bantering tone. "If you'll stop talking a minute, I'll tell you who our
visitors were. You'd never be able to guess in a thousand years. Our
old friends, Mrs. Curtis and Tom, have been to 'Forest House' to see
us. They were passing through the town on their way to Richmond and
stopped over between trains."
"Take me to them, take me to them!" cried Madge, setting off for the
house on a run, closing the orchard gate behind her with a force that
caused it to shut with a resounding bang.
Nellie followed her tempestuous relative, calling, "You can't see them.
That is just the trouble. Mrs. Curtis and Tom drove away about a
quarter of an hour ago. I am so sorry, but I did look for you
everywhere; so did Pompey. We called and called you. Mrs. Curtis and
Tom were dreadfully disappointed. They were afraid to wait any longer
for fear they would miss their train. They left a great deal of love
for you. Mrs. Curtis was charmed with 'Forest House.' You may see them
soon again. Mrs. Curtis wants us----"
"Oh, I am so sorry I missed them," lamented Madge. "When does Mrs.
Curtis's train go?"
"At one o'clock," answered Eleanor. "Mother wished them to stay to
luncheon, but they had hired such a slow old horse at the station that
they thought it wisest to leave in time."
"And they have been on the way only a quarter of an hour?" questioned
Madge. "I know what I am going to do: I am going to ride Dixie down to
the station. I know I can overtake Tom and Mrs. Curtis before their
train leaves the station. I may be able to get just a peep at them.
Here, take my book, please, Nellie. Make it all right with Uncle
William and Aunt Sue. I am sure to be late for luncheon." Madge was off
across the fields, running as though her life depended on it.
Readers of "MADGE MORTON, CAPTAIN OF THE 'MERRY MAID'" already know the
story of how four girls, with more enthusiasm than money, found and
transformed a dilapidated old canal boat into the pretty floating
summer home which they christened the "Merry Maid" and launched on a
quiet shore of Chesapeake Bay.
Their subsequent meeting with a Mrs. Curtis and her son, Tom, persons
of wealth and social position, who were summering at one of the
fashionable hotels along the shore of the bay, prepared the way for a
series of eventful happenings in which the crew of the "Merry Maid"
amply proved their mettle.
It was through the efforts of Madge Morton and Phyllis Alden that a
young woman was rescued from the clutches of a family of rough and
uncouth fisher folk, and taken aboard the "Merry Maid," where it
developed that she was none other than the daughter of Mrs. Curtis who
had been lost at sea twelve years previously.
After a succession of happy weeks on the houseboat, the girls repaired
to their various homes to spend the remainder of their vacations with
their families. They had promised Mrs. Curtis, however, that for two
weeks before returning to school they would be her guests on their own
houseboat, which she had arranged to have removed from Pleasure Bay,
where it still lay, to a spot opposite Old Point Comfort, where she and
her son and daughter were spending a few weeks before returning to New
York City.
Madge knew without being told that the time for their happy holiday had
come. Still, it was not of this she was thinking as she raced across
the fields. She had missed Mrs. Curtis more than she could say, and her
sole desire was to see the woman who had done so much to add to their
pleasure on their previous trip.
In a nearby meadow Dixie, Madge's fat black pony, was lazily eating
grass. Her mistress called to her coaxingly as she ran toward the
enclosure. But the pony was bent on a frolic. She heard Madge, saw her
approaching, and, eager for a game, the pony kicked her heels together
and trotted off across the field at a lively pace.
Madge was in despair. Every moment was precious. Why should Dixie
choose this time of all others to refuse to come when she called to
her? With a sudden thought Madge reached into her pocket. There, to her
joy, she discovered an uneaten red apple. Madge held it out invitingly,
standing perfectly still, as though she had no intention of stirring.
The pony threw back her head, neighed softly, then came trotting over
to her mistress and appropriated the apple; but the next instant
Madge's hand was in her mane, and she vaulted lightly on Dixie's
slippery back, still keeping a tight hold.
"Nellie," she called, as she cantered past her cousin, "tell Aunt Sue
she must forgive my riding bareback this time. I never will again. But
I simply couldn't wait to put a saddle on Dixie. I might miss seeing
Mrs. Curtis and Tom. No; they won't be shocked. They'll know it is only
Madge!"
She rode swiftly away, sitting on the pony's uncovered back as easily
as though she had been riding in the most comfortable of saddles.
It was three miles down the pike to the railway station nearest to the
old Butler homestead. Madge knew that her friends had hired a carriage
at the depot, and that her pony was capable of making twice the speed
of any horse that they had been able to hire. But the day was warm. It
was near Dixie's feeding time, and the animal saw no reason for making
unnecessary haste. Madge coaxed and urged her pet to do her best. If
she could only overtake her friends in their journey to the station!
But the pony would not hurry. At last Madge stopped under a big maple
tree, breaking off a switch. A few mild cuts from an unaccustomed whip
made Dixie leap ahead.
The pike followed the railroad track for a mile. At the end of the
mile, at a sharp curve, the track crossed the road. There was no
watchman stationed at the crossing to give the signal, not even a red
flag to tell of danger, only a great sign, printed in huge, black
letters: "Look Out for the Locomotive. Stop. Look. Listen."
A hundred times Mr. Butler had warned Eleanor and Madge of this
dangerous point in the road. Almost every day they crossed this track,
driving back and forth from the village and they had always heeded Mr.
Butler's warning.
To-day, just as reckless Madge neared this point in her journey, she
saw a rickety carriage drive over this crossing about a hundred yards
ahead of her.
"Wait, Mrs. Curtis! Stop, Tom!" cried Madge joyfully. Her blue eyes
were shining, her cheeks were flushed. Madge's old-time heedlessness
was upon her. She gave no thought to her promise to her uncle, to the
chance of the oncoming trains. Madge-fashion, she saw only the goal
ahead of her. "Go it, Dixie, darling!" she entreated, touching her pony
sharply with her maple switch.
At the girl's first call Tom Curtis had reined in the old horse he was
driving. His mother leaned out of the carriage to look back. "Madge!"
she cried sharply.
At the same instant Madge plunged recklessly toward the railroad
crossing. It was too late to rein in her pony. She and Dixie dared not
take that risk. She saw a huge monster bearing down upon her. A shriek
from the engine, a hoarse call from the engineer as he swept around the
curve and saw the pretty figure on the track so close to his train.
Madge felt the wave of heat from the locomotive. It seemed almost to
scorch her, it was so near. She felt her fingers stiffen with fear; her
hold on her pony's mane relaxed. She knew she was slipping off her
horse's back and down on the track.
But she was country born and bred. She had ridden horseback all her
life. In that moment of terror she flung herself forward, with both
arms about her pony's neck. Dixie gave a single, frightened leap. She
cleared the track just as the train raced by. Then Madge slid limply to
the ground, while her pony stood by her shivering with fear.
"Don't scold me, and don't tell Uncle," she pleaded as Mrs. Curtis and
Tom climbed hurriedly from the wagon and came back to her. "I know it
was dreadful of me, and Uncle would never have forgiven me if I had
killed myself."
At this characteristic speech both Madge and her friends laughed. Madge
kissed Mrs. Curtis affectionately. Then, holding out her hand to Tom,
she said, "Do you think I could let you get away without seeing you for
a minute at least? Perhaps you had better go on to the station. I will
follow you on Dixie. We can talk after we reach there."
The carriage, closely followed by Madge on her pony, reached the little
station at least ten minutes before the time for the Curtis's train.
Madge could not leave Dixie to walk to the front of the station, so
Mrs. Curtis and her son walked to the road where Madge had alighted and
stood waiting for them, one hand in her pony's mane.
Tom thought he had never seen her look so pretty, but he was too wise
to say so. He had learned by embarrassing experience that Mistress
Madge frowned disapprovingly at the slightest intimation of a
compliment.
"Tom and I stopped at 'Forest House' to tell you that we are ready for
you. We wish you four girls to be our guests as soon as you can make
ready to come to us. Your uncle and aunt have given their consent to
the arrangement. We leave it to you and Nellie to communicate with
Lillian, Phil, and Miss Jenny Ann. You must rally the houseboat party.
Write to Madeleine and me and tell us anything you think you would like
to do. We are at Old Point Comfort. Good-bye, dear; here comes our
train. Don't disappoint us."
Mrs. Curtis and Tom boarded their train, leaving Madge staring after it
in happy anticipation of the good times that were sure to be theirs
when once more aboard the "Merry Maid."
CHAPTER II
WHAT MADGE FOUND IN THE ATTIC
"Aunt Sue," declared Madge gravely, wrinkling her straight, dark
eyebrows into a solemn frown, "there is only one thing that worries me
about our second houseboat party: Nellie and I haven't enough pretty
clothes."
Mrs. Butler looked as though she quite agreed with her niece. It was
the day after Mrs. Curtis's hurried call.
"You see, it is this way, Auntie. On our first trip our houseboat was
anchored in a quiet, out-of-the-way place. We met Mrs. Curtis only by
accident and had a few parties at the Belleview Hotel. This time we are
to be Mrs. Curtis's guests. Although the houseboat won't be on the
Virginia side of the bay, because the water is much too rough there, we
shall probably be crossing over to Fortress Monroe and Old Point and
all the lovely places near. Mrs. Curtis will be sure to get up parties
for us. We may even look on at some of the dances at Fortress Monroe.
So Nellie and I ought each to have a new evening gown, besides our
white silk gowns. Don't you think so?"
Aunt Sue sighed in answer to Madge's question.
"I don't see where new party gowns are to come from, dear. Even if I
felt we could afford them, I simply haven't time to go to town to get
the material for them. It has taken a great deal to get you and Nellie
ready for school, since you will go directly to Miss Tolliver's when
your houseboat party is over. Fortunately, your new school clothes will
be suitable for most occasions, as the weather will probably be cool.
Somehow I feel uneasy about this second houseboat party. I have a
premonition that something will happen to you girls. Your uncle thinks
I am absurd. He says you are very fortunate to have made a friend like
Mrs. Curtis, and to have another opportunity to enjoy your houseboat. I
suppose I am foolish." Mrs. Butler smiled nervously. "You know I am
rather given to having premonitions, so don't concern yourself about
anything I have said to you."
Mrs. Butler was a delicate, high-bred looking woman, with soft blue
eyes and brown hair lightly streaked with gray, who was quite likely to
be influenced by her wilful niece's opinions. It was in her Uncle
William that Madge met her match.
"Nellie!" called Madge when her aunt had finished speaking, "please
come in here. I want to persuade Auntie to do something that I am going
to ask of her, and I wish you to help me."
Nellie appeared at the dining room door, her fingers stained with
grape-juice. She was determined to help her mother with the jelly
before she and her cousin left for their second houseboat holiday.
"You don't need any one's help when it comes to having your own way,"
retorted Mrs. Butler. "What do you wish this time?"
Madge lowered her voice. "Auntie, you know that upstairs in Mother's
old trunk there are two rolls of silk--a roll of rose-color and one of
turquoise blue. You have always said that Father brought them home to
Mother from China just after I was born, and that Mother never had them
made into dresses, because she died soon afterward, when Father failed
to return from his trip."
Mrs. Butler bowed her head quietly. She looked away from her niece.
"Yes, that is what I have told you. I am saving the silks until you are
older. You have very little else of your mother's except her jewelry."
Madge clasped her hands together pleadingly. "O Aunt Sue! why must I
wait until I am grown for those silks? I wish you to give them to
Nellie and me now. Please, please do. I am sure we are old enough to
appreciate them. Nellie would be a perfect dream in the pink silk, and
I should dearly love to have the blue. We never, never can need the
dresses more than we do _now_! Why, in two or three years Nellie and I
may be rich! Who knows? What is the use in keeping them for some future
time, when Nellie and I need them at the present moment? You know we
ought to have one handsome gown apiece, Auntie. Mrs. Curtis and
Madeleine are always beautifully dressed."
"Yes, Mother, please let Madge have her way," entreated Nellie. "But I
can't accept one of the frocks. I wouldn't take it away from you for
the world."
"Very well, Auntie," replied Madge, with a little choke in her voice.
"I am sorry I mentioned the subject to you. I don't care for the silks,
then. I won't even look at them, unless Nellie will take one of them."
"Silly Madge!" remonstrated Eleanor, coming up behind her cousin and
tweaking a loose curl of her auburn hair. "I know you wish me to share
everything with you, and I thank you just the same. But, Madge, I can't
accept one of those dresses. Don't you see, they were your mother's,
and that makes all the difference in the world."
"I can't see what difference it makes if I wish to do it. You always
divide everything you have with me, and I don't see why you can't let
me be generous for once."
Madge's eyes were misty. The thought of her mother and father made it
hard for her to speak without emotion. "Besides," she added, smiling in
her charming fashion, "I will never wear a pink gown. No one need try
to persuade me. It wouldn't be in keeping with my red hair!"
Eleanor put her arm around her cousin. She understood the little quaver
in Madge's laughing voice.
"Of course I will have the dress, if you feel that way about it," she
said gently. "And I shall adore it. Why, I can see myself in it this
minute, with a pink rose fastened in my hair. But all this time you and
I have been arguing Mother has not yet said that you could use the
silks. Please consent, Mother; there's a dear."
Mrs. Butler looked grave. "I suppose it is all right," she hesitated.
"The silks belong to Madge and she is old enough to decide what she
wishes to do with them. Look in my left-hand bureau drawer, Madge; you
will find the key to your mother's trunk there. The silks are in the
bottom of the trunk, wrapped in a piece of old, yellow muslin. We might
as well find out whether the material is still good before we decide
what we will do about it. I must go back now to my jelly; it must be
nearly done."
"Come up to the attic with me, won't you, Eleanor?" invited Madge.
Eleanor shook her head. She knew her cousin liked best to make these
visits to her mother's trunk alone. "No," she answered, "I must help
Mother with the jelly."
Nellie slipped quietly away and left Madge looking dreamily out on the
elm-shaded lawn, her thoughts busy with the story of her own past and
the little she knew of her father.
He had been a captain in the United States Navy, and one of the
youngest officers in the service. The Mortons were an old Virginia
family, and after Robert Morton's graduation from Annapolis he was
rapidly promoted in the service. He had married Mrs. Butler's only
sister, Eleanor, for whom Nellie was named. Two months after Madge's
birth, while her husband was away on a cruise, Madge's mother died at
her sister's home, and, as her father never came back to claim her, she
had been brought up by her uncle and aunt. This was all she had been
told of the story of her mother and father. It made her aunt unhappy to
talk of them, so Madge had asked few questions as she grew to young
womanhood. But to-day she felt that she would like to know whether her
father had died and been buried at sea--she always thought of him as
dead--or whether a tablet had ever been erected to his memory at
Annapolis. She had never been to Annapolis, although it was not a great
distance from Miss Tolliver's school, but she knew that the Government
often honored its brave officers and sailors with these memorials.
She was thinking of these things as she left the dining room and
climbed the steep, ladder-like stairs that led to the attic. The attic
of "Forest House" was worth a longer journey than Madge had to make. It
was built of solid cedar wood, with beams a foot thick over head, and
put together with great cedar pegs. The attic was a long, low-ceilinged
room, dark and fragrant with the odor of the cedar. It was lit by four
big, old-fashioned dormer windows in the front and four in the rear.
Her mother's trunk was kept in one corner of the attic behind an old
oak chest. Mrs. Butler did not wish to be haunted by sad memories when
she made her frequent trips to her attic to look after the family
clothing and bedding, so she had partly hidden her sister's trunk.
Madge opened the trunk in the half light. On top of everything was a
pile of her first baby dresses. Farther down she came upon a sandalwood
box containing her mother's jewelry. The box contained a beautiful and
unusual collection of rare stones. Captain Morton had brought many of
the jewels back from the Orient as presents to his wife.
Madge picked up a necklace of uncut turquoises, set in links of
curiously carved dull gold. For an instant she looked at it, then
slipped it over her head. There was also a tortoise-shell comb of
wonderful beauty to match the necklace. The crown of the comb was
formed of turquoises and pearls. Just in the center of the comb was a
tiny scarab made of turquoises. The scarab Madge knew to be a beetle
sacred to the Egyptians. She wondered if the beautiful set of jewelry
had an unusual history. Madge put the comb in her hair, then plunged
deeper into the lavender-scented trunk. Under a pile of old-fashioned
gowns she found the bundle that she desired, tied up in yellow muslin
just as her aunt had described it. Tucking it under her arm she hurried
to the front windows and sat down Turk fashion on the floor. She wished
to examine carefully the well-remembered silks. It had been several
years since she had seen them, yet how well she recalled them! She and
Nellie had never grown tired of marveling at the beautiful fabrics
when, as little girls, they were allowed to glance at the silks by way
of a special treat.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12