Chapter 9 The Message in the Hollow Oak by Carolyn Keene
The Message in the Hollow Oak
Nancy moved quietly to the bedside of the injured authoress. A faint smile flickered over Miss Chapelle’s wan face as she recognized the girl.
“Please—leave us alone,” she murmured to the nurse on duty.
The attendant nodded and went out, closing the door softly behind her.
“I sent for you because there is something I have to tell you,” Miss Chapelle began with difficulty. “The chances are that I shall never survive this operation.”
Nancy tried to say something encouraging, but the authoress scarcely paid any attention to the girl’s words.
“If anything should happen to me—will you promise to deliver a message to my grandfather? And to someone else whom I love dearly?”
“Of course, but I feel sure there will be no need for it. You will recover in a little while and be able to take the message yourself.”
Miss Chapelle shook her head sadly.
“I fear that I shall never see my beloved Canada again.”
“Canada?” Nancy questioned. “But I thought your home was in Hollywood.”
“For years it has been. However, I was born in Canada. My real name is Annette Chap, although few people know it. My parents died when I was only six years old. Until I was sixteen I made my home with my grandfather, Pierre Chap.”
“And is he still living in Canada?” Nancy probed gently.
“I have not heard any news of him in many years. I do know that if he is still living, he makes his home in the same log cabin. It is fifteen miles from Lake Wellington, deep in the woods. Anyone can direct you there.”
“If he is still alive, I’ll find him,” Nancy promised.
A faraway expression crept into Annette Chap’s misty gray eyes.
“Grandfather Pierre must be almost seventy years of age, but he has always been healthy and strong. How I should love to see him again!”
“You will, I feel sure.”
“No, we are estranged. I ran away from home when I was only sixteen.”
The woman lapsed into silence. Presently she continued, speaking with increasing difficulty:
“I was inclined to be a romantic youngster, and I fell in love with a young man named Norman Ranny.”
Nancy started upon hearing the familiar surname, but the authoress did not notice her sudden movement.
“Grandfather thought I was too young to have boy friends,” she went on. “He fairly hated Norman, and threatened to disown me if I were ever to marry him. But we were desperately in love. Finally, we decided to elope.”
Miss Chap slumped back against the pillows, and for a time appeared too weak to continue her story. But she forced herself to go on.
“We agreed, Norman and I, to carry on a correspondence through the medium of the old oak tree.”
“The hollow oak you mentioned before?” Nancy asked alertly.
“Yes. There was one more than a hundred years old. In its trunk was a hollow of which only Norman and I were aware. We used it as a hiding-place for our messages. I promised Norman that when I set the day for our elopement I would leave word for him in the hollow oak.”
“And did you?”
“Yes, I wrote the message, saying I would meet him in a small town in the States just over the border. Grandfather Pierre kept such close watch over me that it was the only way to go about it.”
“And did Norman meet you?” Nancy inquired gently. She had already inferred that the plans had not been carried out.
“No,” Miss Chap returned, a strained look coming over her face. “I stayed at the town for two days, but he failed to appear. After that I was afraid to return to my grandfather. No doubt I made a great mistake, but I was very proud. When Norman failed to come I felt I could never bear facing him again.”
“Perhaps he did not receive the message,” Nancy suggested.
“I thought of that possibility later,” Miss Chap confessed. “At any rate, thereafter I went to Hollywood. I had a very hard time for many years, until success finally came to me almost over night. Now I have plenty of money. When I met you on the train I was on my way back to Canada to find my grandfather, and beg his forgiveness.”
“Have you heard from Norman since you left your home?”
“Only indirectly. I have been told that he is still unmarried. I know that he served in the World War, but I have no idea where he is living at present. I should like to see him again, but I fear that will never be.”
“Don’t feel so discouraged,” Nancy urged. “The operation will surely be successful.”
“I hope so,” Miss Chap said, smiling faintly. “But I have no real hope, so that’s why I sent for you. The story I have just told you has been incorporated in my new novel. It is the best work I have ever done, for it is in reality the story of my life. If somehow you can find my old grandfather and tell him the truth about me before he dies, I shall be eternally grateful to you.”
“I gladly accept the trust,” Nancy promised seriously.
Miss Chap relaxed slightly.
“Now I shall rest easier. You have been very kind.”
The door suddenly opened and a nurse came in.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave now,” she said to Nancy. “It is time to take Miss Chapelle to the operating room.”
A slight shudder passed through the authoress as she realized that the ordeal was so near at hand. But she smiled bravely as Nancy bent down to kiss her.
“Keep up your courage,” the girl whispered, a warm smile on her face.
She remained in the hall until she saw the attendants wheel the white-robed figure toward the operating room. After that she waited in the lobby. Some time later a nurse came in to inform her that the operation had been performed.
“Will she live?” Nancy asked tensely.
“She has a fair chance,” was the response. “We will call you at your hotel as soon as Miss Chapelle comes out of the anaesthetic.”
After she left the hospital Nancy did not return immediately to the Hamilton Hotel. Instead, she telephoned to Bess and George, and asked them to meet her at the Ranny farm.
“We’ll get there as soon as we can,” George promised. “But why are you in such a hurry?”
Nancy said she would explain everything later. She was waiting at the lane which led to the farm cottage when the girls drove up in a rented car.
“I’d have returned to the hotel for you, but time was so very short,” Nancy apologized. “Miss Chapelle told me her true name as well as the sad story of her life. I think I have a clue as to what became of her former sweetheart. By the time she comes out of ether I hope to have some good news for her.”
“You’re talking in absolute riddles,” Bess announced, as the three hurried toward the house on the hill.
“I suppose I am,” Nancy admitted, laughing. “I’m so excited that my thoughts are going around in a fearful whirl. Oh, if I only could find Norman, how wonderful that would be!”
“Norman?” George demanded.
“Norman Ranny. I have a hunch that he may perhaps be related to these Rannys!”
As the girls walked up the winding lane, Nancy told her chums the main facts of Miss Chapelle’s story. Bess and George grew excited.
“After all that occurred here as a result of our bringing Mrs. Donnelly, we may not be received very well,” Bess remarked uneasily.
“I think Mrs. Ranny will talk to us,” Nancy insisted. “It wasn’t our fault that she and Mrs. Donnelly were involved in a feud.”
The farm woman did not bear the girls any ill-will. When they knocked at her door she bade them enter in as cordial a manner as ever.
“I know why you have come,” she said before Nancy could speak. “It is kind of you to offer to help patch up the trouble between Mrs. Donnelly and myself, but that is quite impossible.”
“I have come on an entirely different mission,” Nancy told the woman. “I should like to know if by any chance you have a son named Norman?”
A queer expression flickered over Mrs. Ranny’s face.
“Yes, I have.”
Nancy was elated.
“Then tell me where I can find him,” she pleaded. “I must see him at once!”
“I don’t know where he is.”