01 The School at the Chalet (26 page)

‘Grizel! Grizel!’ The cry came faintly through the mist.

She sat up. Joey! It was Joey’s voice! ‘Our Father,’ she sobbed. Then, ‘Joey! Joey!’

‘Hold on a tick! I’m coming! Where are you?’

Grizel pulled herself together. ‘Joey! I’m on the precipice! I’m lying down! Look out!’

Almost at once a figure loomed up out of the mist, and then Joey, feeling her way carefully, was beside her. She was sitting down, pulling her into her arms, holding her tightly, saying, ‘Grizel! Grizel!’

‘Our Father,’ began Grizel dully. ‘Oh, Joey, He sent you at last!’

Then darkness swept over her, and, to Joey’s utter dismay, she fainted. It was only for a few moments, however. She struggled back to consciousness, and with consciousness came terror, complete and overwhelming. She clung to the younger girl, shaking from head to foot, while Joey, with wide, straining eyes trying to see through the mists, held her tightly, murmuring words of comfort to her.

‘Grizel! Darling! Don’t cry! It’s all right! Honest Injun, it is! There! Don’t cry, Grizel! Joey’s here! Joey’s got you safely! It’s all right!’ Over and over again she repeated it, till finally the meaning of her words reached Grizel’s brain, and she began to pull herself together.

‘Joey!’ she said presently. ‘Oh, Joey! How did you know?’

‘Where to come, d’you mean? I guessed! Grizel, are you better? Don’t you think if we went on hands and knees you could get back to the rocks? We aren’t awfully far along, I know. Two minutes would do it. Can’t you try, Grizel?’

But Grizel dared not. The very suggestion set her whimpering piteously. ‘Joey, I daren’t! Oh, Joey, I know I should slip and fall! I daren’t move! Don’t you move either, Joey! If you do, we shall go over! Don’t move, Joey! Please don’t!’

‘But, Grizel, old thing, it’s so awfully cold, and you’re wet through! Do let’s have a shot at it! Honest Injun, it wouldn’t take a minute!’

But Grizel’s nerve was gone. She could only clutch her friend, crying piteously, and, mercifully for both of them, she made no attempt to move. Had she done so in her present state of mind, there is little doubt but that both of them must have gone over the edge. Finally, Joey gave up her coaxing, and settled herself as comfortably as she could to await the rescue she felt sure would come soon. Grizel, lying closely against her, had ceased to cry. Now she seemed drowsy and dull. With a sudden throb of fear, Joey Bettany faced a new danger. She had read of the death sleep which continued cold brings on, and she realised that already Grizel was only semi-conscious. At all costs she must rouse her.

‘Grizel!’ she said imperatively. ‘Grizel! Wake up! You can’t go to sleep!’

Grizel muttered something drowsily, but made no movement. Joey slapped her face smartly, and nearly brought disaster on them both as the elder girl stirred.

‘Grizel! Grizel!’

The fear in her tones reached Grizel’s drugged brain, and she half roused.

‘Yes, Joey! I’m here!’

‘But you must stay here!’ sobbed poor Joey. ‘Oh, Grizel, don’t go to sleep!’

‘I’m not; but I am so tired,’ murmured Grizel.

‘I know, but oh, you mustn’t! Oh, I can’t bear it!’

Her tears fell on Grizel’s face, and did more to wake her than anything else would have done. Joey crying was a wonder not to be understood.

‘Don’t cry, Joey! It’s all my fault, and I’m sorry now! Oh, if we both die it will be my fault, and Miss Bettany will never forgive me or look at me again!’

Joey began to gurgle hysterically at that. ‘Don’t be s-silly! If we both die we shall be d- What’s that?’

She sat with head upreared, listening for the sound her quick ears had caught. It came again-the long, melodious call of the mountaineer.

‘Grizel!’ she cried. ‘We’re found!’‘ Then, with all her strength, she cooeed.

The yodel came again, nearer this time, and, as she answered it, Joey noticed that, at long last, the mists were thinning. Then came the sound of careful footsteps, and, finally, the dear familiar figure of Herr Mensch, looking more like a benevolent giant than ever. Behind him came the slighter form of Herr Marani, and behind him again two of the herdsmen, who had been pressed into service. To a skilled mountaineer like Herr Mensch the narrow path presented no difficulties. With one big stride he had stepped across the two girls, then, turning round, he bent down and picked up Grizel, while Herr Marani helped Joey to her feet.

The next few minutes were dangerous enough, for Joey’s cramped muscles would not work, and she nearly fell. Luckily, Herr Marani had her firmly, and twenty minutes later they were on the Alm, where Madge awaited them with white face and eyes dark with the agony she had undergone. If Herr Marani would have allowed her, she would have carried Joey herself to the herdsmen’s hut, where a potent drink of hot milk, mixed with brandy from Herr Mensch’s flask, was given to them before they made the final descent to the valley.

Two hours later the sun appeared in full glory, gilding all the peaks and driving away the last rags of mist from the sinister mountain which had so nearly added two more to the toll of its victims. Madge, sitting by the little bed in her own room where they had placed Joey, caught the rays.

‘You have come late,’ she said, and turned back once more to her watching.

Chapter 24.

Consequences.

Madame! How is Joey?’ Simone lifted tear-drenched eyes to Miss Bettany’s face. It was the day after Grizel’s grand escapade, which had so nearly ended in terrible disaster, and it was a day which none of the girls ever forgot. The sun shone gloriously the whole time, as if to make up for his behaviour of yesterday.

The Tzigane band had come up the lake again, and was making music outside the Kron Prinz Karl. At this very moment they were playing the air of a popular song; many of the younger people who knew it had joined in the chorus, and the gay voices floated up to the Châlet through the clear summer air. But all this meant nothing to the school, for Grizel was ill with bronchitis, and Joey Bettany had never come out of the sleep into which she had fallen after they had laid her in Herr Mensch’s car, which had been awaiting them at the foot of the mountain.

Herr Marani had gone hotfoot to Innsbrück to fetch the doctor, and he had said that the awful nerve strain through which the imaginative, highly strung child had gone might result in brain fever. That could only be decided when she came out of the heavy stupor in which she lay, and which might last for two or three days yet. Grizel’s case was far simpler. It was a straightforward attack of bronchitis, the natural result of having been for hours in the clinging mists. It was, of course, made worse by the fact that she had gone all to pieces when she found herself in her own bed; but with careful nursing-and they could be sure of that-she would soon be all right again. Joey’s case was far more doubtful. Then he left them, promising to return the next day. Frau Mensch had appeared in the morning and carried off Amy and Margia, and Frau Rincini had sent Bette over to fetch the little Merciers. She had offered to have Simone as well, but Simone had begged to stay, and Juliet had offered to look after her, so they had given the child her way.

Midday had brought Frau Marani with an offer to nurse Grizel, and Madge herself had never left Joey for a minute until the doctor had arrived, and with one glance at her white face had sternly ordered her out.

‘It will make things worse if you are ill,’ he told her. ‘Go and have some food, and then a little walk. To-night you must sleep, while the young lady-ah, Fräulein Maynard!-watches. Nothing will occur for some hours yet.’ Then the anguish in her eyes touched his compassion, and he added, ‘She looks better-seems more natural. Now go and rest.’

Madge did as he told her as far as going out was concerned. She had gone to the pine-wood, and was wandering up and down, when Simone had caught sight of her, and, breaking away from Juliet, had rushed across the meadow and caught her arm with hot little hands. Now, as she saw the child’s face, all puffed and swollen with crying, Miss Bettany felt suddenly that she had been neglecting her duty. She slipped an arm round Simone, who promptly began to sniff again.

‘They can’t say yet, dear. The doctor says nothing will happen for some hours yet, but he thinks she looks more natural. Don’t cry, Simone.’

Simone made a valiant attempt to check her tears, and succeeded. ‘I do love Joey so much!’ she said quaveringly. ‘Oh, Madame, if there is one little thing I can do you will tell me?’

‘Yes,’ said Madge. ‘I can tell you of one little thing now. You can stop crying and try to be brave. Tomorrow there will be school as usual. Joey is far above the schoolrooms, and I know you will all be quiet.

We shall break up on Tuesday or Wednesday, instead of a week later as I had intended. I want you to be very brave, and work as steadily as you can for the two days. If the others see you and Juliet’-she smiled at the other girl, who had now come up with them-‘trying to go on as usual, they will try too, and that will make things easier for us all.’

‘I will try,’ said Simone very soberly. ‘I will try ver’ hard.’

‘I’ll do my level best,’ Juliet promised, ‘and I will look after Simone, Madame.’

‘Thank you, both of you,’ said Madge. ‘Now I must go back, as I may be needed. Juliet, take Simone to wash her face and hands, and both of you change your frocks. Good-bye.’

She turned and went back to the Châlet, feeling fresher for her little rest, and more able to cope with things.

She found Joey lying as she had left her, with the doctor sitting by her side. He looked up as the girl entered, but made no other movement. Madge bent over the bed, looking at the dear, funny little face with a world of love in her eyes. Was it her imagination, or did Joey really look more like herself. She glanced up at the doctor inquiringly, and he nodded his head.

‘Yes, it is really so. I begin to have hopes of her. We cannot yet say definitely, but the pulse is stronger, and the temperature has risen no further. Now go and change your clothes, and have a bath and wash your hair!’

Madge quite literally gaped at him, wondering if she had heard aright.

‘Yes, I mean that,’ he said, nodding his head again. ‘Go to the hotel with this note and have your hair shampooed. There is more than time for it, and it is a better tonic than any I can mix for you in my dispensary.’

Sheer astonishment rendered her dumb and obedient. She had thought as she mounted the stairs that she could only leave the bedroom again when she knew that Joey was safe. Now, clutching his note, she made her way to the Kron Prinz Karl, where the Tzigane were playing a plaintive, haunting waltz, to which people were dancing on the grass at the side.

The Von Eschenaus were sitting at one of the little tables, and when Frau von Eschenau saw her, she came quickly over, taking her arm.

‘Mein Fräulein, we are so grieved-Marie has cried herself sick for grief! Tell us, how is das Mädchen, and if there is anything we can do?’

‘Thank you,’ said Madge. ‘There is really nothing. Joey is much the same, and I’ve come to get my hair shampooed-the doctor sent me.’

Frau von Eschenau stared. ‘To get your hair shampooed?’ she repeated doubtfully.

‘Yes. I have a note for Herr Braun.’

‘Then come this way, and we will find him. Doubtless he will be in the Speisesaal.’

The good-natured Viennese led her into the big dining-room, where Herr Braun was engaged in directing the laying of the tables for dinner. When he saw them, he hurried forward, exclaiming. Madge gave him the doctor’s note, and he read it through with wonderment in his eyes. Then he nodded his head wisely.

‘It is well, gnädiges Fräulein. If das Fräulein will come through here, it shall be done.’

He led her into the hairdressing-room, and forty minutes later Madge was going back to the Châlet feeling refreshed and ready for anything. Everything was as she had left it, save that Juliet and Simone were in fresh frocks. She peeped into Grizel’s room, where good Frau Mensch sat knitting, one watchful eye on the bronchitis kettle. Grizel was sleeping, propped up with pillows to relieve the breathing. She looked flushed, but there was nothing alarming. The illness would take its natural course, and the doctor was not alarmed about her. So much Frau Mensch told the young headmistress, her busy fingers never ceasing their work.

‘He will stay here for to-night,’ she continued in her low, murmurous voice that made the guttural German sound soft and musical. ‘I think he expects that little Jo will come to herself before the morning.

Mademoiselle has come in, but she knows nothing about sick-nursing and would be useless. Frau Marani will come to-night and watch by das Mädchen, for Fräulein Maynard must sleep, and you will be with the little sister.
Na, mein Liebling
,’ as Madge tried to thank her, ‘it is nothing-we are glad to do what we can.

You and she are very dear to us all, and we of the Tyrol do not show ingratitude. See! das Mädchen is waking -she opens her eyes.’

‘What is it, dear? ‘ said Madge. ‘Do you want to know about Joey? She is still asleep. The doctor is staying here for a while.’

‘Will-she-be-very-ill?’ The words came slowly.

‘She is very tired,’ said Madge evasively, ‘but she hasn’t got bronchitis like you. Now you must rest, you naughty child. We want you to get well again as quickly as possible. The holidays are very near, you know.’

She bent to kiss the child, and Grizel relaxed.

‘I’m glad,’ she said. ‘It wouldn’t have been-fair if Joey-had to be ill-for me.’

Madge left her after that, and went back to the other sick-room. The doctor looked at her keenly, but, beyond a grunt, he said nothing. Throughout the long night he sat there, watching the little white face on the pillow, Madge watching with him. Once only he left her, to go and see Grizel, and came back with the news that she was decidedly stronger. At ten o’clock Frau Marani appeared, and Frau Mensch went back to the hotel at Seespitz. Five o’clock in the morning brought Miss Maynard to insist that Madge should lie down on the couch and rest for a couple of hours, while she watched in her turn. At seven the doctor went to ring up his partner in Innsbrück and warn him that he should stay where he was for that day. Later, Marie came with hot coffee, rolls, and butter, of which the doctor insisted Madge should partake, and at five to nine she went downstairs to see to work for the day.