The Mandie Collection (58 page)

Mandie gave her a big hug. “Tell us about the mystery, Grandmother!” she cried excitedly.

“Not until you get your coats off,” Mrs. Taft replied. She turned to greet Mr. Bond, who had followed the girls into the room. “Thanks for bringing Amanda,” she said.

“I was glad to do it, ma'am,” Jason Bond said. “It sure feels good in here. It's gettin' purty cold out there now.”

The two girls hastily removed their coats and hats and handed them to the maid who stood waiting. Mr. Bond gave the maid his coat, and she hung everything on the hall tree just outside the parlor doorway.

“I imagine it is cold out there,” Mrs. Taft said. “Come on over by the fire.” She turned to the maid. “Ella, we'll be ready for some hot coffee and cocoa when you finish there.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Ella answered from the doorway. “I'll git it right heah.” She hurried on down the hallway.

“Do sit down, Mr. Bond,” Mrs. Taft told the man, indicating the armchair opposite hers by the fireplace. “We'll have something to warm us up in a few minutes. Then in a little while the cook will have dinner ready.”

Mr. Bond took the chair opposite Mrs. Taft as Mandie and Celia sat on footstools by the hearth.

“Where is Hilda?” Mandie asked.

“She's staying with the Smiths next door until y'all go back to school,” Mrs. Taft replied. “I didn't want her involved in this adventure. You know how she is. She runs away every chance she gets, and I'm afraid one day we might not find her.”

“You're a mighty good lady to give her a home,” Mr. Bond remarked.

“Well, I had to,” Mrs. Taft insisted. “I couldn't let her be put in some mental institution, especially since it was Mandie and Celia who found her hiding in the school attic.”

“But she's getting better,” Mandie reminded them. “Dr. Woodard said she is.”

“Yes, she is,” Mrs. Taft agreed.

“She's bound to improve now that her parents can't keep her shut up in a room like they did,” Mr. Bond smiled.

“I think so, too. But now, Grandmother, please tell us about the mystery—please!” Mandie begged, clasping her small white hands around her knees.

“Well, it's like this,” her grandmother began. “There's something very mysterious going on here in Asheville. The bells on our church downtown have been ringing thirteen times at the stroke of midnight.”

“Do they ring thirteen times at noon, too?” Mandie asked.

“No, just at midnight,” her grandmother replied. “And no one can figure out what's wrong. The bells are activated by the clock on the hour and half past the hour. Several people have examined the bells and the clock mechanism, but they haven't found a thing wrong,” she explained.

“Sounds spooky,” Celia whispered.

“Some folks say it's a bad omen, and the whole town is upset because no one can solve the mystery.” Mrs. Taft paused for a moment. “I know you girls are good at things like this, so I thought maybe you'd like to look into it.”

“Sure, Grandmother,” Mandie quickly agreed. “I think we could find out what's wrong. Don't you, Celia?”

“Well, we could try,” Celia replied.

“We have almost all day today, and we don't have to check into school until tomorrow afternoon,” Mandie said. “Grandmother, could we all just go down to the church and look around?”

“It's too cold out there for me, but if Mr. Bond would agree to escort you two girls, you may go after we eat,” Mrs. Taft promised. “You'll have to bundle up, though. There's no heat in the church except when there's a service, you know.”

“Mr. Jason, will you take us, please?” Mandie begged.

“I reckon I can go with you girls, long as you don't stay too long,” he replied. “Like your grandmother said, it's cold out there for these old bones.”

“Thanks,” Mandie said, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

“How do we get inside?” Celia asked. “Who has the key?”

“It never is locked, dear,” Mrs. Taft answered, “until the sexton makes his rounds about bedtime. Then he locks the doors. But he opens them again early every morning.”

As Mrs. Taft finished speaking, the church bells rang in the distance. They all listened and counted.

Mandie pointed to the china clock on the mantelpiece. “That clock says it's eleven o'clock,” she said, “but the bells rang twelve times. I counted.”

“I did, too,” Celia agreed.

“You're right,” Mrs. Taft said. “So now the bells are not correct in the daytime either. Did you count the rings, Mr. Bond? Was it twelve?”

The old man nodded. “Yes, you're right. It was twelve. Maybe the clock mechanism needs repair.”

“Several workmen have examined everything, but they found nothing wrong,” Mrs. Taft repeated. “Of course, they didn't tear the clock apart, from what I understand, but they did inspect all the connections between the clock and the bells. There just doesn't seem to be anything wrong.”

Ella the maid entered the room carrying a large silver tray with a steaming silver coffeepot and a silver teapot of hot cocoa. She set the tray on the low table by Mrs. Taft.

“I'll pour it, Ella. Thank you,” Mrs. Taft said. “Would you let us know just as soon as dinner is ready?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Ella replied, leaving the room.

“I know you girls like hot cocoa,” Mrs. Taft said as she leaned forward to pour for them, “but what about you, Mr. Bond? Would you care for coffee or cocoa?”

“Coffee—black, please, ma'am,” he answered. “Once I got old enough to drink coffee, I've never stopped. Guess you'd call me an old coffee sot,” he laughed.

Mrs. Taft passed him a cup of steaming coffee, and then poured some for herself. “I suppose I am, too,” she said, sipping the hot coffee. “However, once in a great while I get a taste for hot cocoa.”

Mandie warmed her hands on her hot mug of cocoa and took a drink. “Grandmother, Joe said he would be here this weekend with his father,” she said. “He promised to bring Snowball with them since they'll be coming in the buggy. I didn't want to bother with Snowball on the train.”

“I knew they were coming,” Grandmother acknowledged. “Dr. Woodard told me when I was at your house for Thanksgiving last week. And I knew they would bring that cat of yours.” She smiled and took another sip of her coffee. “Now, as soon as you girls finish your cocoa, run upstairs to your rooms and freshen up for dinner.”

“Rooms?” Mandie questioned. “We only need one room, Grandmother.”

“Well, I had Annie make up two rooms next to each other,” Grandmother Taft explained, “but if you want to share one, that's all right. Just don't stay awake talking all night.”

“We won't. Thanks,” Mandie said. She and Celia quickly put their empty cups on the silver tray and jumped up. “We'll be back in a few minutes.”

Grabbing their coats and bonnets from the hall tree, they headed upstairs.

The girls' baggage had been put in separate rooms, but the door between was standing open.

“I think I'll change into something more comfortable,” Mandie called to Celia in the other room. She hung her coat and bonnet in the huge wardrobe.

“And warmer,” Celia called back from the other room.

“I think I'll wear this.” Mandie took an indigo woolen dress from the trunk and held it up for Celia to see through the doorway. “And I'll wear my wool cape with the hood so I don't have to wear a bonnet.”

“Me, too,” Celia said, holding up a dark green woolen dress. “And I'll wear this.”

Mandie changed her clothes quickly. “Don't forget your boots,” she reminded her friend.

Celia laughed. “You'd think we were going to the North Pole!” “Well, it does seem awfully cold—a lot colder than it was at home,” Mandie said. “Was it cold in Richmond?”

“I suppose so. I didn't really notice because I wasn't outdoors much, what little time I was there,” Celia answered. “By the time I left your house after Thanksgiving and got home to Richmond, your grandmother had sent my mother a message asking if I could come back to school a day early and spend the night with her.”

Celia finished dressing first and joined Mandie in her room. Sitting on the footstool by the warm fireplace, she straightened her stockings above the top of her shiny black boots.

“Just think,” Mandie said as she shook down her long skirt which partially covered her boots, “the year 1900 will soon be gone. Thanksgiving has passed and Christmas is coming up.” She turned to the tall mirror standing nearby and smoothed the long blonde braid that hung down her back.

“Time sure does fly,” Celia agreed. “We're almost halfway through our first year at the Heathwoods' school, but it seems like we just started a few weeks ago.”

“Maybe that's because we seem to get so many holidays,” Mandie laughed. “Pretty soon we'll be getting out for Christmas.”

Celia grew quiet. “It'll be the first Christmas for both of us without our fathers, won't it?” she said softly.

Mandie nodded. “I remember Christmas morning last year back there in Swain County,” she said. “My father had brought in a small Christmas tree and we had decorated it. I got up so early I caught him wrapping presents by the tree, but he just laughed and said it wasn't time to get up yet. I stayed up, though, and helped him finish.” She blinked back tears in her blue eyes.

“Our whole family was at our house for Christmas last year,” Celia recalled. “All my aunts, uncles, and cousins—everybody. They stayed for days and days.” Her eyes brightened. “My father gave me my pony for Christmas.” She smiled.

“I know y'all raise horses,” Mandie said, approaching a touchy subject carefully, “and you said your father was killed when he was thrown from a horse. Was it a new horse, or had y'all had it a long time?”

“He had just bought it the day before.” Celia's voice quivered. “Mother sold it after it threw my father.”

“I guess I was lucky that my father didn't die so suddenly,” Mandie conceded. “He got a bad cold that turned into pneumonia.” She drew a long breath. “He died in April, right when the weather was turning warm and the wildflowers were beginning to bloom.”

A light tap on the door made the girls look up. Mandie opened the door to find Annie, the upstairs maid, standing there.

“Miz Taft, she say fo' you girls to git downstairs. Dinnuh be on de table,” Annie announced.

“Thanks, Annie,” Mandie smiled. “We're coming right down.” As the maid left, Mandie turned to Celia. “Guess we'd better get going.”

“Yes, let's hurry so we can get through dinner and go down to the church,” Celia agreed.

The girls rushed through the meal as fast as they could. Mrs. Taft and Mr. Bond seemed to be in no hurry. They sat talking and sipping coffee while Mandie and Celia squirmed in their seats.

When Ella came in to refill the coffee cups, Mrs. Taft smiled at the girls. “Ella,” she said, “ask Ben to bring the rig around to the front door, please. These girls seem anxious to leave.”

“Let us walk, please, Grandmother,” Mandie begged. “It's not far.

Ella waited.

“No, it's too cold out there today,” Mrs. Taft replied. “Besides, you forget that Mr. Bond's legs are not as young as yours.” She looked up at the maid. “Go ahead, Ella, and tell Ben.”

As the maid left the room, Mandie smiled at Jason Bond. “Sorry, Mr. Jason,” she said. “I keep forgetting that you are older than we are.”

Everyone laughed.

“A good bit older, young lady,” Mr. Bond teased. “I know you're used to your old Indian friend, Uncle Ned, chasing around on adventures with you, but I'm just too old for that—or maybe I should say too old and too lazy.”

Mandie smiled across the table at him. “We love you anyhow, Mr. Jason.”

“You girls may be excused.” Mrs. Taft looked amused. “Wrap up good now,” she called as they hurried from the room.

Taking the steps two at a time, they stopped in their rooms only long enough to snatch up their cloaks and gloves. Mr. Bond buttoned up his warm coat and waited in the front hallway.

When they were all in the rig, Ben shook the reins and sent the horses flying. The girls squealed with delight and held on tightly. Jason Bond looked from them to Ben but didn't say a word.

Ben grinned broadly. “I loves to go fast,” he explained, “but Miz Taft, she don't like it, so I'se glad to have some fun and git y'all to the church quick.”

Mandie and Celia laughed, but Jason Bond just held on and looked straight ahead.

After a few minutes Ben pulled the horses up sharply in front of the big brick church and everyone lurched. Ben grinned again.

“Thanks, Ben,” Mandie said, scrambling down from the rig with Celia and Mr. Bond close behind. “I guess you did get us to the church quick. That was fun!”

“Yeh, Missy,” the Negro man replied. “Now, is I s'posed to wait heah or come back latuh to git y'all?”

Mr. Bond spoke up. “You'd better wait here, Ben,” he said. “We won't be inside very long. You can come inside with us if you think it's too cold to sit out here.”

“I be all right out heah,” Ben replied, settling back in his seat.

The girls and Mr. Bond stopped to stare up at the tall steeple where the huge clock was mounted. They could faintly see the bells inside the belfry.

“Looks normal,” Mr. Bond remarked.

“But it's—” The bells interrupted Mandie to ring once for one o'clock. “Well, it rang right this time,” she said.

“Must be something wrong inside,” Celia suggested as they started up the wide steps to the double front doors on the porch of the church.

Mr. Bond stepped ahead of the girls to open the door for them and ushered them inside.

Mandie looked around the familiar sanctuary. “This is where we go to church while we're at the Heathwoods' school, Mr. Bond,” she said. “Grandmother Taft is a member here.”