Chapter 25 The Whispering Statue by Carolyn Keene
ADRIFT
Left alone in the automobile by the highway, Bess and George had waited patiently for the return of their chum. They were startled into alertness as a truck came careening down the private road directly toward them.
Before either of the girls could shout a warning, the contractor who was at the wheel had swerved his machine just enough to miss the car. George and Bess were unable to recognize him in the dark.
“I wonder what that man was doing at Old Estate?” Bess speculated, staring after the disappearing vehicle.
“Nancy will know the answer, you may be sure,” George chuckled. “Just wait until she gets back. If I had her nerve I’d have gone along and helped to investigate.”
“Nancy has the heart of a lion,” Bess replied, “but I can’t help feeling she’s too venturesome—especially tonight.”
“I wish she would hurry. If she doesn’t, we’ll be caught in the storm.”
George glanced up anxiously at the leaden sky where not a star was visible. The wind had freshened, coming directly from the ocean, but the girls were comfortable in the closed car.
Half an hour elapsed, and still Nancy did not appear.
“Let’s go after her,” George proposed suddenly. “I’m beginning to think something has happened.”
Bess did not favor the idea, but she too was worried about her chum. After some discussion they drove the car up the bumpy road. The old mansion appeared completely deserted, and Nancy was nowhere about.
The girls called their chum’s name several times. They did not believe she had gone inside the house, for they remembered that the doors and windows of the ancient dwelling had been locked.
“Whatever became of her?” Bess gasped, now thoroughly frightened. “You don’t suppose she could have been in that truck?”
For the first time it dawned upon the girls that Nancy might have been kidnaped. The thought became a conviction.
“We must go for help,” George cried. “Mr. Drew will know just what to do.”
To drive the entire way back to Sea Cliff would consume considerable time, but the girls remembered a store not more than a mile away where they could telephone. Soon they had Carson Drew on the wire and were pouring out their story to him. The lawyer, greatly worried over Nancy’s disappearance, instructed them to remain where they were. He would join them by taxi.
Mr. Drew, telling the driver this was an emergency, asked the man to make all possible speed. It was raining by the time he reached the store where George and Bess were waiting. Unmindful of the storm, the three set off in Mr. Trixler’s car for Old Estate. On their way there the girls told him exactly what had happened to them since they had left the hotel earlier in the day.
“It’s obvious there’s a queer sort of business going on at Old Estate,” Mr. Drew replied grimly. “Of course we know Nancy will be in the thick of it. I only hope she isn’t in trouble.”
As the car halted at the main road George cast a startled glance at her two companions. She had heard a strange reverberating crash come from the direction of Old Estate.
“What was that?” she asked. “It sounded just as if the house had tumbled into the sea!”
By this time the private road was too muddy for a car to travel over. Abandoning the automobile, the three ran toward the house. The rain fell in such torrents that they were unable to distinguish anything until they were very close to the place.
“Where is the estate?” Carson Drew, who was in the lead, asked tersely. This was his first visit to the place. Although Nancy had described the grounds to him, he did not feel familiar with the setting.
“Why, it’s gone!” Bess cried, her words ending in a little scream. “It’s floating away into the sea!”
The three rushed on to the bank. Through the rain they were able to make out a large dark object some distance from shore.
“Nancy couldn’t be in there!” George gasped in horror.
Carson Drew cupped his hands and shouted as loudly as he could:
“Ahoy! Ahoy out there!”
They heard no answering cry. But then it was improbable that the sound of his voice would carry.
“I’m sure Nancy couldn’t be aboard,” Mr. Drew said, though his tone lacked conviction.
“The house won’t stay afloat long, will it?” Bess asked in a hushed tone.
“Not in this sea,” the lawyer answered grimly. “It’s probably slowly filling with water. If anyone is aboard——”
“Isn’t there something we can do to make certain?” George questioned anxiously.
“Yes, there is,” Carson Drew answered shortly. “We’ll bring the Coast Guards.”
The lawyer sent the girls by car to the nearest telephone, while he remained at Old Estate trying to keep watch of the floating house. Unmindful of the drenching rain, he maintained a faithful vigil. Presently, despite his best efforts, the dark hulk vanished into the darkness.
“I know Nancy couldn’t be out there,” he whispered to himself, “yet something keeps telling me she is. Oh, why don’t those Coast Guards get here?”
Bess and George hurried over to the telephone. While it seemed that considerable time had elapsed, actually the Coast Guard crew arrived upon the scene in very short order. The men were well equipped for any emergency, and with powerful searchlights sought to locate the floating house.
Soon the giant beam focused upon it and the watchers on shore saw that it was low in the water. One of the men told Carson Drew that it would break up soon.
“Can’t you find out if anyone is aboard?” the lawyer asked. “Launch a boat and——”
“Not in this sea,” the other responded with a shake of his head. “It wouldn’t last a minute in those waves. If we thought anyone were aboard——”
“There is someone in the house!” George suddenly cried, gripping the man’s hand, and pointing toward an upper window of the abode. “It looks like Nancy!”
“It is Nancy!” Carson Drew exclaimed in horror. “She’s trying to signal with a candle but the light is so dim one scarcely can see it.”
For once in his life the lawyer lost his usual calm. He commanded the Coast Guard men to “do something,” and complained bitterly at the slightest delay as they methodically set about preparing to shoot a rocket to the floating house.
“Oh, will they be able to save Nancy, do you think?” Bess moaned, clinging tightly to George’s hand. “The house is moving away so rapidly, and I heard one of the men say it couldn’t last another fifteen minutes.”
“They expect to bring Nancy in by means of a breeches-buoy,” George answered soberly. “But if the line should miss the house, or if Nancy should be unable to connect it——”
She broke off and could not finish. It seemed an eternity before the Coast Guard line finally whizzed through the air.
“Straight through a window!” one of the men exclaimed in satisfaction. “A bull’s-eye!”
The line was pulled taut, and those on shore knew that Nancy had obeyed the instructions which had been sent with the rocket. Everyone drew a sigh of relief as the contrivance was drawn into the mansion.
“Nancy will be safe in just a moment more,” George said consolingly to Mr. Drew.
Presently through the rain the watchers saw the breeches-buoy coming slowly toward them with a dark figure clinging to the supports.
“Why, it’s not Nancy at all!” Bess exclaimed. “It’s Miss Morse!”
As the old woman was lifted out she gasped that the Drew girl was still aboard the floating house.
“She made me go first,” Miss Morse murmured. “The place is filling up with water—it won’t last long. Save her!” The bedraggled figure collapsed in the arms of a Coast Guard man and was carried away.
The breeches-buoy made its slow trip back to the derelict building. There was a long delay, or so it seemed to Carson Drew and the girls, before it started the return journey.
“It’s Nancy!” George cried in relief. “And she’s carrying something in her arms. Can it be a child?”
As the rescue apparatus came closer, Bess and George were inclined to chuckle, for the “child” was the cumbersome ship model which Mr. Albin coveted so much. Nancy had remembered how the old gentleman had craved for the trophy, and had saved it for him.
“How thankful I am that you are safe,” said Mr. Drew as he helped to lift out his daughter and enfold her, ship and all, in his arms.
“The house is breaking up!” one of the Coast Guard men cried.
Everyone peered out across the angry waters where he was playing the beam of light. The building seemed to crumble. One portion sank beneath the surface while the other floated away, no longer in an upright position.
“You didn’t get out of there one second too soon, Nancy,” Mr. Drew shuddered.
“I owe my life to you all,” the girl replied soberly. “We were drifting to sea so fast I didn’t expect to be rescued. How did you know I was inside the house?”
Carson Drew explained that George and Bess had brought him to the scene. Nancy then thanked her chums, but they cut short the little speech by insisting that she hurry back to the hotel for warm clothing and a hot drink.
At Sea Cliff again, and feeling none the worse for her adventure, Nancy had a strange tale to relate. Carson Drew was amazed to learn of Miss Morse’s relationship not only to Mitza but also to Frank Wormrath, his client’s partner.
“As soon as Mr. Owen is better you must tell him this story,” the lawyer declared. “It will astound him, I know.”
The following day Nancy visited Miss Morse at the hospital. She was sorry to learn that the old woman had contracted a severe cold as the result of her night of exposure, and was in a generally weakened condition. The girl was permitted to talk with the patient only a few minutes.
“I shall die,” the old woman whispered as Nancy moved close to hear her words. “But I do not care. I am old and my life is ruined. If only I might see my son again and know that he will mend his evil ways, I shall die happier.”
“I am sure he will go straight,” Nancy assured her. “As he stumbled from the house last night, I heard him mumble that he never intends to do wrong again.”
After leaving the hospital the girl tried to locate Joe Mitza, but learned that the man had left Sea Cliff by the first train West. Since is was impossible to bring him to his mother’s bedside, Nancy bought a huge bouquet of roses and sent them to the hospital with a card bearing the name of the woman’s son. The deed gave her considerable satisfaction two days later when she was informed that Miss Morse had lapsed into a coma from which she never aroused.
It was a relief to the Drew girl and her friends to observe that Mr. Owen improved in health steadily. One afternoon, when the nurse had been dismissed, they joined Mrs. Owen in her husband’s room, and the couple learned for the first time the entire history of Miss Morse’s strange life.
“Dad has checked up on the information,” Nancy ended her story. “The woman’s husband is without question the same Frank Wormrath who tricked you, Mr. Owen. The fellow is fearful that his prison record will be exposed, so he has agreed to settle with you at your own terms.”
“Did you say that Miss Morse’s true name was Bernice Conger?” Mrs. Owen asked in astonishment.
“Yes, she was Mr. Conger’s long-lost daughter.”
“I have never told you this, Nancy, but I knew Bernice when she was a girl,” Mrs. Owen said slowly. “I spent a summer here in Sea Cliff with my parents and became friendly with her. We often played together at the Conger estate. I saw the Whispering Girl statue for the first time then. Later I came back here to view it again.”
“And you haven’t seen Miss Morse in recent years?” Nancy inquired.
“No, and it is a great shock to me to learn of her end for she was a lovely girl. She used to write me letters occasionally.” Mrs. Owen hesitated, then said with a change of tone, “Why, it was Bernice who led me to believe that my husband meant to desert me when he went to Borneo!”
“What reason would she have had for doing such a thing?” Nancy asked in amazement.
“I think I know why she tried to separate us,” Mr. Owen interrupted. “I had forgotten until now, but when I was in New York ready to sail, Bernice Conger learned that I was there. She came to see me to borrow money. I was unable to grant her wish for she asked for a very large sum.”
“You think the woman sought revenge?” Nancy questioned.
“Yes, I’m sure of it,” Mr. Owen answered. “Come to think of it, the information that my wife was dead easily could have been sent by her.”
“I don’t see how Bernice had the heart to be so cruel as to try to separate us,” Mrs. Owen murmured. “The only possible explanation is that trouble twisted her mind.”
“Let’s be thankful that all our years were not wasted,” Mr. Owen smiled, squeezing his wife’s hand. “How much we owe to Nancy Drew and her father.”
“Yes, we’ll never be able to repay them,” agreed the clubwoman. “I tried for years to trace you, Charles, inserting several advertisements in various newspapers. They were all in vain until Nancy chanced to see one of the items.”
Mr. Drew had learned from his daughter that to all appearances the contractor had stolen one of the smaller marble figures from the Conger Estate. He immediately began an investigation which exposed the theft, and compelled the fellow and his friend to return the statue.
Nancy worried about the Whispering Girl group, feeling certain it would be ruined if allowed to remain at the deserted Conger Estate. She was elated when her father brought word that the management of the Seaside Hotel had purchased the three statues, intending to reset them on their own beautiful grounds.
“I’m very glad,” Nancy declared, “for now those lovely pieces will be preserved for years to come.”
Before Nancy and her friends left Sea Cliff, the marble group was transferred to its new location. A special, though rather informal, dedication ceremony was held in connection with the unveiling. Nancy played an important role and was introduced to the audience as the Whispering Girl in person. She was made up especially for the occasion, and as she posed beside the statue everyone found the resemblance startling.
The final event of the program was a surprise even to Nancy. Town officials presented her with a little bronze medal for her bravery in saving poor Bernice Conger from drowning.
“Well, I guess all the excitement is over,” Bess sighed blissfully at the end of the day. “It’s too bad Nancy can’t think of another mystery to solve.”
Of course the Drew girl never planned such things. Puzzles to solve just came her way, as when she went to a mountain hotel for a vacation, and stumbled upon a strange mystery surrounding “The Haunted Bridge.”
“I know one that’s still as baffling as ever,” George chuckled.
“What is that?” Nancy inquired innocently.
“The mystery of Togo’s ownership.”
“He isn’t worrying about it, so neither shall I,” his new mistress laughed as she stooped to pick up the little dog. “From now on, Togo belongs to me.”
THE END