“Who does?” demanded the woman.
“It doesn’t belong to anybody, really,” confessed poor Desiré reluctantly. “It’s something about a title. We just live here.”
“Oh, Dad, buy it for me. I must have it!” exclaimed the young woman.
“I’ll make inquiries, and—” the man was saying, when a loud blast from the horn summoned them to the bus. They hurried down the lane with a careless goodbye to the girl in the doorway.
“Oh, Dissy,” called Priscilla, running toward her, closely followed by René and Rover. “Why—what’s the matter?” as she noticed her sister’s pale face and unnatural manner.
“Just tired,” Desiré managed to reply, though such a storm of emotion surged within her that she felt almost overcome by it.
“Go and lie down, and I’ll do the dishes and clean up,” offered Priscilla. “René, take the dog out to the garden and stay there until I call you,” she added importantly. “Dissy’s going to take a nap.”
“Thank you, Priscilla dear,” replied the girl gratefully. “I think I shall lie down. Call me at eleven o’clock. I shan’t need anything until then.”
Desiré kissed her little sister, escaped into her room as quickly as possible, and closed the door. In the privacy and quiet which she felt she must have at all costs, she gave way to tears. What would they do now? For these rich people could get anything they set their hearts on. Jack was right in warning her not to get too fond of the place. She thought she hadn’t, but now when it was slipping slowly but surely from their grasp—Oh! and Desiré hid her face in the pillow to drown her sobs.
Presently she forced herself to grow calmer, and when Priscilla quietly put her head in at eleven o’clock Desiré, pale, but outwardly composed, was bathing her face.
“It was sweet of you to take care of things, Prissy dear,” she said. “I’ll get dinner now; I’m quite all right. You run out-of-doors until it’s ready.”
After a searching look at her sister, the child obeyed; but all the afternoon she kept making excuses to come to the front yard, where Desiré sat sewing, to see if she was all right. While her sister was getting supper, Priscilla walked down the lane to meet Jack.
“I’m afraid there’s something awful the matter with Dissy, Jack,” began the child, slipping her hand into his. “She’s not really sick—I don’t think—but she’s not a bit likeher.”
“Well,” replied Jack quietly, for he had heard bits of conversation on the bus that day, and they gave him an advance inkling of Desiré’s trouble, “don’t say anything to her, or let her know that you notice anything. I’ll talk to her tonight.”
“I didn’t, Jack. I just helped all I could, and stayed where she could call me.”
“That’s a good girl; you’re getting to be a great help to us,” tightening his grasp on her brown, plump little hand.
Fortunately René had a silly fit at the table, and kept them all laughing in spite of themselves; so the meal passed off without any constraint or self-consciousness. After the children were in bed, and the cabin in order for the night, Jack drew Desiré out on the doorstep, and, sitting down, beside her, put his arm around her.
“Now tell me all about it,” he suggested gently.
“About what, Jack?”
“Whatever’s troubling you. It’s not fair to keep me in the dark, you know.”
Dropping her head on his broad shoulder, she related, in disjointed sentences, the history of the morning.
“I guessed as much,” he commented, as she finished. “I overheard their conversation on the bus.”
“Can’t they take it, if they don’t mind not having—having—”
“A clear title? I don’t know, dear; I’ll see what I can find out from the judge tomorrow. I should say, though, that we must not expect to keep it. We talked of that possibility; don’t you remember?”
“Yes; but—such a thing seemed so—so very improbable,” faltered Desiré. “The place had been deserted for so long.”
“If we have to give it up we can probably find something in town. There’s an old place near Judge Herbine’s, and another one on the road to the Basin. Don’t take it so to heart, Dissy; we’ll find a place somewhere, even if we have to leave this; and we may not. It’s not like you to look on the dark side of things.”
Cheered by Jack’s words and manner, Desiré began to feel that she had been foolish to let herself become so disturbed, and she made a heroic effort to resume her natural manner. She succeeded so well that by bedtime they were laughing over the discovery of Rover’s latest escapade, a hole dug beside the step on which they were sitting. Jack set his foot in it as they rose to go in, thereby nearly upsetting himself and Desiré as well.
“Oh, by the way, Dissy,” remarked Jack after they had gone into the house, “I almost forgot to tell you something. You’ll never guess whom I saw today.”
“Then tell me right away.”
“My old enemy.”
“Oh, Jack!” cried Desiré fearfully. “Where?”
“On the bus. He was on his way to work in the orchards around Annapolis. He was rather friendly, for him, and just as he was leaving the bus, he thrust these into my hand and told me to give them to you.”
Desiré peered curiously at the round, brown things which her brother pulled out of his pocket.
“What are they?”
“Some kind of bulbs. You’d better plant them tomorrow.”
“What’s the use if we’re going to lose the place?” she queried, rather bitterly.
Jack looked at her reprovingly. “That doesn’t sound a bit like my cheerful partner.”
“You’re right, Jack. I’m sorry. I’ll plant them tomorrow, and if we don’t see them bloom, perhaps they will give pleasure to someone else.”
The next morning she selected a lightly shaded spot where the soil looked rich and promising, and began to dig. Before long, her spade struck a large stone.
“Wonder if I can get that out?” she thought. “This is the best place in the yard for unknown plants; for they’ll get a mixture of sun and shade.”
Vigorously she attacked the stone, and after much exertion succeeded in getting it out. Rolling it carelessly to one side, she was busily trying to smooth out the ragged, uneven earth with the spade, when there was a sound of metal striking on metal.
“Jack,” she called to her brother, who was in the house reenforcing a shelf.
“What’s wanted?” he responded, sticking his head out of the window.
“Come here, quick!”
Throwing his long legs over the sill, he dropped onto the ground and was at her side in a moment. “What’s the matter,” he asked; “snake?”
“Something’s down there,” pointing to the hole.
Jack seized the spade and quickly uncovered an iron box. Desiré was trembling violently, and could only gaze silently at the strange object.
“What have you got?” demanded René, appearing at that moment from the front yard. “Prissy!” he shrieked, without waiting for an answer, “come ’n’ see!”
Priscilla appeared, viewed the find calmly, and proposed taking it into the house to see what it contained.
“Do you think we had better take it over to the judge’s?” asked Desiré, finally finding her voice. “Perhaps we should not open it by ourselves.”
“I’ll go right after him,” declared Jack. “Just put some papers on the table so I can carry the box in and set it down before I go.”
It seemed a long time before they heard the sound of the Ford, but it was in reality only about half an hour; for Jack had covered the ground at his best speed, and the judge lost no time in getting back with him.
“Well,” said Judge Herbine, darting into the room and up to the table, “lots of excitement. Got anything to open it with, Jack? It’s locked.”
With considerable difficulty they managed to force the lock, and pry up the cover. Then everyone crowded around to peer inside. The box was filled with gold and silver pieces.
“Money!” gasped Jack.
“Oh,” cried Desiré, “it must have been out there ever since the Expulsion. I read in my little blue history that some of the Acadians buried their savings in their gardens before they left the country, because they expected to come back again very soon.”
“Then it probably belonged to our ancestors,” said Jack slowly.
“Let’s tip it out,” proposed the judge. “It looks to me like a goodly sum.”
Tarnished and dull, it lay in a heap on the table; and as the judge turned the box right side up again, he caught sight of some papers in the bottom.
“Documents of some kind!” he exclaimed, loosening them carefully.
Stiff, yellow with age, the writing was dim but discernible.
“That’s a will, isn’t it?” asked Jack, catching sight of a few words at the top of the sheet, as the man unfolded it slowly.
“Exactly. ‘To my daughter, Desiré Godet and her heirs forever—’” he read. “6754-1755.”
“What?” gasped Desiré, crowding closer to look at the paper.
“This house and money; and here’s the missing deed with the will. I congratulate you—most heartily, children. This is evidently—a perfectly legal will—and the long lost deed; and since you are Godet survivors—the place and the money must belong to you.”
“Oh, Jack!” cried Desiré, throwing herself into his arms, “now you can go back to college, and nobody can ever take this house away from us. It is really ourhome, now, just as I always felt it was.” Desiré was sobbing in her delirium of joy.
“’N’ is all that money ours?” demanded René, staring at it with wide eyes.
“Guess it is, my boy,” replied the judge, adding to Jack, “And some of these are doubtless rare pieces—worth much more than their intrinsic value.”
“Then we can have an automobile,” pronounced René.
Everybody laughed, and the tension was somewhat relieved.
“Look, Jack,” said Desiré, “there are two of the numbers from that slip of paper that was in Father’s box.”
“What’s that?” inquired the judge, whirling around like a top.
Desiré explained while Jack got the paper and they all examined it carefully.
“1755 is the year,” decided the judge, “and 6754 the number of the deed; but—Wait a minute; I have an idea.”
Out into the garden he hurried, followed by the whole family. With the hole as a base, he measured and calculated, while the others watched silently.
“I have it!” he exclaimed at last. “Wmeans west of the house;15is the depth of the hole, and12the distance from the edge of the lot.”
“The mystery is solved at last!” exulted Desiré.
Several weeks later the ownership of the little cabin was formally handed over to the Wistmores, under the guardianship of Judge Herbine, and their little fortune duly deposited to their credit, ready for the fall when Jack was to go to college, and Desiré to high school.
The End