When Joanna came down to breakfast the following day, she found her father very upset.
“Boys!” he was saying, in outraged accents, to her mother. “That is what Erland thinks, and I suppose he is right. It is intolerable, Emma. How can one approach a problem scientifically if one is subject to such interference. Boys indeed! Would that I knew who it was; I should show them interference.”
“Most vexatious,” murmured Mrs. Rowntree.
“What is it?” asked Joanna. “Has something happened?”
“Something?” sputtered her father. “I should say it has. Someone got into the ruins of the Abbey last night, after we had gone. Just at the church, where we were to work today. A whole wall damaged, nearly falling down! Erland heard the crash from the house last night, and he frightened the rascals off when he came out to see what was toward. But this is intolerable. I cannot work with such intrusions.”
“Well, well, George,” put in Mrs. Rowntree, “you have ensured that it will not happen again.”
A look of satisfaction crossed Mr. Rowntree’s face, and he laughed shortly. “I have that. Young Carstairs’ mastiff will see that there are no more trespassers, boys or not.”
During this conversation, a suspicion had been growing in Joanna’s mind, and when at this moment the door opened and her brother Frederick came in, she turned to glare at him angrily. Frederick returned her look with bland surprise in his round blue eyes.
They sat down to baked eggs without further conversation. And though her father occasionally grumbled under his breath during the meal, no more was said about the Abbey. As soon as she was finished, Joanna got up and went out. But instead of going upstairs, she waited in the corridor until Frederick appeared, then pounced on him.
“Frederick, you went to the Abbey ruins last night, didn’t you? And after your promise to Mama. You should be ashamed!”
Her brother frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you touched in your upper works, Joanna?”
The girl repeated what her father had said. “It must have been you, Frederick. You are always exploring those ruins. And who else could it be?”
His frown deeper, Frederick replied, “I do not know, but you may be sure I mean to find out. If Johnny Townsend is sneaking about trying to get the treasure without me, I shall thrash him soundly.”
The conviction in his voice gave Joanna pause. “It really wasn’t you?” she asked, still suspicious.
“I have said it wasn’t, have I not? Why should I skulk about in the dark when Erland is letting me help him search? A pretty fool you must think me.”
His sister let this sink in. “But who could it have been then?” she said again, in a different tone.
Frederick grimaced. “We shall see.” The light in his eyes boded ill for any neighborhood boy who had the temerity to intrude on his ground.
Joanna had no more time to puzzle over this mystery, for her father was ready to set out for the Abbey, and today, she was to accompany him. As she hurried up to her bedroom to gather her drawing materials, she felt a quiver of excitement. The prospect of sketching their finds was exciting, and the idea that she might really aid her father in his work made her glow. She had never been able to do that before.
Jonathan Erland, Templeton, and Carstairs were all on the scene when they arrived. They were standing near a toppled wall in the ruins and surveying it carefully. Carstairs held the collar of a large, fierce-looking dog.
“Good morning,” cried Mr. Rowntree when they came up to them. “Is this the place the fools spoiled? We ought to call in a constable. It is disgraceful that anyone would interfere with scientific work in this way.” He came over to look. “Why, someone has been digging here!”
Erland nodded. “That is what made the wall topple, I think. They began to dig too close and undermined it.”
“Yes, yes, I see.” Mr. Rowntree walked around the hole. “It just shows what fools they were. A ridiculous place to excavate—not at all safe. We shall start here when we unearth the crypt.” He indicated a space further from the fallen wall.
“Brilliant!” cried Templeton. “You always know just what must be done, sir.”
Though her father paid no attention to this, Joanna looked at the youth curiously. She had not really noticed Templeton and Carstairs before this, but now that she would be working with them every day, she began to wonder what sort of gentlemen they were. Templeton was slender, very dark and intense, and he watched her father’s every move with the light of hero worship in his eyes. He had never spoken to Joanna, and she wondered now if he ever would. He did not seem to see that she had come along today.
Turning to look at Carstairs, Joanna found that that young man was already gazing at her. When their eyes met, he flushed slightly and mumbled a greeting. Carstairs was a bit plump, with brown hair and ingenuous blue eyes. He looked cheerful and comfort-loving and not at all the sort Joanna would have expected to be interested in her father’s project. Smiling in response, Joanna walked toward him. But Frederick was before her. “Say, that’s a lovely mastiff,” he told Carstairs. “Yours?”
“Yes.” Carstairs glanced down, then looked up again to return Joanna’s smile. “His name’s Valiant. I’ve had him only a few months.”
Frederick knelt beside the animal, eliciting a warning growl.
“Be careful,” said Carstairs. “He’s not more than half trained, and he can’t seem to get used to strangers. Makes no end of trouble at the college.”
“Are you allowed to keep a dog?” asked Joanna, surprised.
The young man grinned. “Well, strictly speaking, no. That’s why I have to train him as soon as possible. And that’s why I’m glad to leave him here to guard the Abbey for a while. Someone told the bagwig about Valiant, and he’s on the lookout.”
“I’ll wager he’s a splendid watchdog,” said Frederick from his knees. “Aren’t you, boy?” He ruffled the dog’s ears affectionately, a caress which the animal suffered with only a baring of teeth.
At this moment, Gerald came striding across the lawn. He was a bit later than usual, so he was hurrying, and he had already picked up one of shovels from the shed and was carrying it jauntily over one shoulder. Valiant took instant exception to this unaccustomed sight. Barking fiercely, he lunged toward Gerald, and such was Carstairs’ surprise that he let go of the dog’s collar, setting him free to charge.
“Look out,” called Joanna. All of the others turned to see what was the matter.
Startled, Gerald watched the mastiff approach. He seemed uncertain about what to do. But finally, at the last minute, Valiant’s bared teeth and deep growls convinced Gerald that he was in earnest, and he held up the shovel before him in defense.
“Valiant!” cried Carstairs. “Down, sir, down!” He started to run after the dog.
Confused by this command, but still deeply suspicious of the shovel, Valiant turned slightly aside. His great jaws snapped at the shovel, but he did not offer to renew the attack, and in a moment, Carstairs had his collar once more and was apologizing volubly to Gerald. For a short while, all was confusion, but finally Gerald had been told the story of the night’s incursion and Valiant, his presence explained, had been taken off to the stables to rest for his evening labors.
“A very satisfactory animal,” said Mr. Rowntree as he was led away. “No one will get past him to interfere with our work.” He rubbed his hands together. “And now, let us get to it. We have wasted enough time already this morning.”
It soon became obvious to Joanna that Jonathan Erland and Gerald did most of the real work on this project. Frederick, quickly bored by mere digging, disappeared on his own explorations after a very few minutes. Templeton made no move to lend a hand, but stood talking and listening to Mr. Rowntree. Carstairs occasionally tried to help, but he so clearly did not enjoy it that one of the others soon returned. And Joanna’s father, though more than willing to take a shovel, seemed to hamper more than he helped when he did. Joanna herself found a reasonably comfortable flat rock and sat down to watch until she should be called upon to sketch something or perform some other service.
Erland and Gerald dug; Mr. Rowntree peered at their excavation and gave directions; the sun rose higher in the sky, and the day grew hot. With a muttered excuse, Carstairs went off to “see about Valiant.” And Joanna began to be bored. She had thought that they would find exciting ancient objects quite often and that she would be asked to draw them. But after two hours, nothing of the sort had happened. They were finishing the unearthing of a long wall, started several days ago, before moving on to the chapel foundations, and there seemed to be nothing of interest to be found in this hole. Joanna’s head began to droop. The heat was making her drowsy. Thus, she did not hear the footsteps approaching from behind her and started violently when Sir Rollin Denby said, “Good morning.”
As she jerked around to face him, he added, “Did I frighten you? I’m sorry.”
Joanna blinked up at the tall immaculate figure. In his fashionable morning dress, Sir Rollin looked incongruous surrounded by ruins. But he did not seem to notice; he was blandly poised, as ever. Joanna stood up. “G-good morning,” she said.
“I am late, I fear. You are all such early risers.” He looked toward Erland and Gerald, now hip deep in the excavation. “And such diligence—I am impressed.”
He didn’t sound impressed. Joanna murmured something indistinct.
“They have not moved their work?” asked Denby. “I understood that they were to begin on the church today, but perhaps I am mistaken?”
“Papa wanted to finish here first,” answered Joanna. “Then they will move.”
“Ah. Your father is laudably methodical. He completes what he starts no matter how, ah, tedious.” The man looked from under lowered eyelids at the widening trench.
Joanna swallowed. Sir Rollin looked bored. She searched for something to say. “Someone broke into the ruins last night,” she blurted finally.
Denby raised his eyebrows. “Broke in?” he repeated, looking around.
“Well, not precisely that. They are quite open, of course. But someone disturbed them.” And Joanna went on to tell him the whole story. “So Mr. Carstairs’ mastiff will be on guard from now on,” she finished.
Sir Rollin was frowning over her head, but when she stopped speaking, he looked down. “Indeed. Erland feels that his rocks must be guarded then? Perhaps he hopes his treasure is here?”
Joanna looked around apprehensively, but no one was listening to them. “Oh, it was my father’s idea, I think,” she replied. “But Mr. Erland thinks the money must be either in the house or in the ruins. Those are the only two possible places.”
“Does he indeed?” The man looked over to Erland, who straightened at that moment and paused to wipe his brow. As he lowered his kerchief, he turned his gaze in their direction, but after a brief glance, he resumed digging.
“Yes,” continued Joanna, pleased to have some interesting information to impart. “We found some charts of the house and grounds; he is studying those.”
“Charts?” asked Denby sharply.
Joanna nodded, a little surprised by his vehemence.
Meeting her wide brown eyes, Sir Rollin smiled. “Fascinating. But Miss Rowntree, I particularly wanted to speak to you today. I enjoyed our ride so much, and I wanted to tell you so.”
Joanna’s color rose. “Thank you.” She dropped her eyes.
“In fact, I dared hope we might repeat it soon. I thought of getting up a party to ride into Oxford next week. We might ask Miss Williston, and perhaps Mr. Townsend, to join us. I had a sudden desire to see my old college after ten years.”
“It…it sounds delightful,” replied Joanna.
“Splendid. I shall see what I can arrange for, say, Tuesday next. We will set out early, in this heat. Do you think nine would be too soon?”
“Oh, no.”
“Nine it is then.” He smiled down at her. “Of course, you have seen Oxford countless times, but I hope our party may be pleasant enough that you won’t be bored.”
“I’m sure I won’t be.”
He smiled again. “It is settled then. And now, perhaps we should make some move to look at the digging.
“Though I should much prefer talking with you, it is perhaps rude not to speak to your father.” He offered his arm, and Joanna took it with a little thrill. No other gentleman of her acquaintance would have done such a thing for a walk of a few yards.
They worked on until eleven, exposing more and more of the old wall. Finally, Mr. Rowntree judged that enough was visible, and he asked Joanna to make a careful sketch of the whole. She sat down before it and got out her pencils and pad, determined to do a perfect job on this first commission. Erland and Gerald went for water, and Sir Rollin took his leave soon after, looking very bored by the proceedings. A few minutes later, Frederick returned from wherever he had been, his clothes very wrinkled and dusty, and came to crouch down beside Joanna. “I’ve been all over the ruins,” he told her, “and I could not find any signs of who it might have been last night. No footprints or anything.”
Concentrating on her sketch, Joanna murmured, “Well, the ground is very hard.”
“I know. It is too bad there hasn’t been a good rain lately.” Frederick flopped to lie at her side in the grass. “And you know what else, Joanna—I was looking for places where someone else might have dug, and there weren’t any.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if old man Erland buried his money out here, there would have to be some sign. He couldn’t have done it more than a year or two ago, could he? I mean, he’d want his money above ground while he was alive. So I should be able to find the place, if he dug. But I can’t. So I think the treasure’s in the house. It has to be.”
“Why does it have to be?” asked someone behind them, and Jonathan Erland came to sit beside Frederick.
The boy repeated his tale.
“Yes, I see,” agreed Erland when he finished. “You may be right. Of course, my uncle might have covered the spot with some of these stones.” He gestured toward the piles of rocks surrounding them.
“I thought of that. I looked under the smaller piles, figuring he could not have moved the big ones. There was nothing there but grass, and one snake.”
“Hmmm.” Erland looked around thoughtfully. “We have to search the house,” urged Frederick. “It must be there. Did you find anything on those old charts?”
“No, not yet.”
“Well, we must just start in then. What about the attics?”
The man groaned. “Have you seen the attics in this old barrack? They are huge, and crammed with every sort of rubbish. It would take weeks to go through it all.”
“I’m ready,” said Frederick, looking wholly undaunted by this prospect.
“Not now,” said Joanna. “It is nearly time for luncheon. Look, Father is getting ready to go home.”
Frederick started to protest, but Erland added, “And I am worn out with digging. You must give me time to rest, Frederick.”
“Pooh,” responded the boy. “We shall never find it at this rate.”
“Well, I am not ruling out the attics,” said Erland, “though I cannot believe that my uncle would have hidden anything in that mare’s nest. But there are other places as well. The basements, for example. I believe they are extensive. We must make a plan before we plunge in.” Frederick looked mulish. “Oh, very well,” he muttered.
“Frederick, Joanna, we are going,” called Mr. Rowntree.
Joanna added one more line to her drawing, then began to pack up her things.
“I’ll tell you what, Frederick,” added Erland. “You may help me plan this afternoon. Your father is otherwise engaged and won’t be coming back today, so we can search together.”
The boy’s eyes lit. “Oh, first-rate. I’ll come right after luncheon.”
“You are welcome, too, Miss Joanna,” offered the man hopefully.
“I’m not sure,” she said, continuing to pack up. “I must see if Mama wants me.”
Erland looked down. “Of course.”
Mr. Rowntree called again, and they walked over to join him. In a very few minutes, they were driving back toward home, Joanna’s father full of the progress they had made that morning.
When they entered the house, Joanna found Selina awaiting her in the drawing room. “Wherever have you been?” asked the younger girl. “I came to see you, and your mother asked me to stay to lunch.” She surveyed Joanna’s smudged face and dusty gown with wide eyes.
“Hullo Selina,” replied Joanna without much enthusiasm. She didn’t feel like chatting. She had been looking forward to washing her face in cool water and changing her dress. “I must go up and make myself tidy.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Selina comfortably.
Joanna turned and started toward the stairs without further comment. She knew it was no good telling Selina that she did not want company.
“Where have you been?” asked the visitor again as they walked up the stairs together. “You are positively sticky with dust, Joanna. I have never seen you so. Were you out walking in this heat?” Selina’s voice sharpened on this last question.
“I have been at the Abbey, helping at my father’s digging.”
Selina gaped. “Whatever for?”
“He asked me to, and I wanted to help.” Joanna hurried on before Selina could frame another question. “And I am excessively hot and dirty and feeling quite out of sorts, Selina.” They had reached Joanna’s bedroom by this time, and she went over to the washstand and poured some water from the pitcher into the basin. It was barely cool, but she began to splash her face.
Selina shrugged and plumped down on the bed.
“Well, I suppose you are, if you have been digging. But Joanna, I came today to tell you the most prodigious news!”
Joanna was patting her face with a towel, and her voice was muffled by its folds. “What?”
“The oddest thing. Or I shouldn’t say odd, but…sad, or…oh…I don’t know.”
“What?” repeated Joanna, a bit impatiently.
Selina clasped her hands together and opened her pale blue eyes very wide. “I saw Peter yesterday,” she said in thrilling accents.
Joanna raised her eyebrows, putting down the towel and going to her wardrobe to get out a fresh gown. “Well, and how is that news? He lives in the neighborhood after all. We must see him frequently.”
Selina leaned forward. “Yes, but Joanna, he was alone and so was I. I was walking across the field to the Townsends’, you know, and he came up with me on horseback.”
“And the two of you chatted? You have known each other all your lives, Selina.”
“Joanna,” said the other girl reproachfully. “Of course I know that. Why won’t you listen to me?”
“Well, I am listening, but I cannot see anything wonderful in what you have said so far.”
Selina looked hurt.
“I am sorry,” continued Joanna in answer to her look. “I told you I was out of sorts. What do you wish to tell me?”
Only partly mollified, Selina replied, “I wanted to tell you that we talked of you, Peter and I.” She looked up triumphantly.
“Oh dear,” said Joanna.
“It was the most romantic thing imaginable,” Selina went on. “Of course, he has made a mistake; I knew that from the beginning.”
“He said so?” Joanna was aghast. How could her friend have embarrassed her this way?
“He didn’t have to say it. I knew.”
Exasperated, but relieved, Joanna turned to pull a fresh gown from her wardrobe. “Nonsense, Selina.”
“It is not. I could tell by his tone. He knows, of course, that I have your fullest confidence. It was so affecting, Joanna. Had you heard the way he spoke your name!”
“Well, I have heard it,” snapped the other girl, struggling to button the back of her gown. “I saw Peter myself not long ago.”
Selina stared. “You didn’t tell me!”
“There was nothing to tell. We spoke briefly, I wished him happy—That is all.”
The younger girl leaned forward. “He was holding back and didn’t trust himself. But he still loves you, Joanna. I know it!”
Joanna stared at her, appalled.
“He does,” repeated Selina defensively, beginning to quail under the anger in her friend’s eye.
“Have you said anything of this kind to anyone else?” demanded Joanna.
“No, no, of course not. It is only between ourselves…”
“Good. You must promise not to do so. And you must understand that all is at an end between Peter and me. Please do not talk of me to him.”
“But Joanna…”
“It makes me shudder to consider what you might have said. You must never, never do so again.”
“But I didn’t…”
“Don’t you see, Selina, how very, very improper it would be if the things you said just now were true? They are not, of course, but everyone does not know that. If Peter did love me, which he does not, how dreadful it would be!”
Selina seemed much struck. “I thought it was romantic.”
“It is not at all. Think how uncomfortable it would be, living in the same neighborhood and seeing him constantly.”
“Yes.” Selina was amazed.
“So I hope you will forget this idea, as I have forgotten my unfortunate engagement to Peter. It was nothing but a childish misunderstanding, and it is over. I see now that Peter was never the sort of man I could truly admire. Now that I am out, and have met other gentlemen, I see what a mistake I nearly made.”
Selina gazed at her, awestruck. “What other gentlemen?”
Joanna lowered her eyes. “Why, all sorts. Sir Rollin Denby, for example. He is completely different. So assured, so much the man of fashion.” She began to comb out her curls before the mirror. “I am going riding with him again next week.”
“Joanna! With him? You shouldn’t,” cried Selina, scandalized.
“Nonsense,” replied the other girl, still annoyed.
“But he is, you know, what I told you.”
“Malicious gossip, Selina. I don’t wish to hear any more. I’ve been riding with him already, with only a groom, and he was perfectly polite and amusing.”
“You did? You have?” exclaimed Selina. She looked at the other accusingly. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, I forgot to mention it. You see how harmless it was.” Joanna looked down. She had not told Selina because she wished to avoid just such a conversation as this.
“But Joanna, two riding parties. He is flirting with you!”
“Nonsense. I daresay he is bored here in the country and wants some amusing outing. You are making a great work over nothing.”
“But Joanna…”
“Selina, please! Come, we must go down to lunch.”
The younger girl paused, looking anxious and uncertain, then turned away. “I hardly know you now, Joanna,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly. “You are so changed.”
“I am not, Selina.”
“You are. You used to tell me everything and to, to feel just as I did on every subject. Now, you care nothing for what I think, and you are…oh, I do not know, you are different.”
Somewhat taken aback, Joanna considered this. “Well, now that I am out, I suppose I am a little changed.”
“You are wholly changed,” wailed Selina, looking at her friend with tragic eyes.
Impatiently, Joanna turned and began to walk downstairs again. “I think you are making too much of a very trifling thing.”
Selina sniffed once, then hurried to catch up. “Well, I am sorry, Joanna. I did not mean to push in where I am not wanted, I’m sure.” When there was no answer to this, she added, “I was trying to help.”
“I know,” said Joanna. She kept her eyes on the stair carpet.
Selina peered down into her face anxiously. “You are not angry?”
“No, no. I believe I must be out of sorts still.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s all right, Selina. Let us talk no more about it.”
The younger girl fell silent, and they walked into the dining room together.