The Old Gowns

The next morning was a brisk, sunshiny day. Nancy was delighted when she looked out the window. She was already intending to drive to the little crossroads village of Alton, where Professor Crawford's daughter lived, and show her the snapshot from Louise Duval's album. Today would be perfect for her drive into the country!

After breakfast, she telephoned Bess Marvin to invite her to come along.

" Oh gee, Nancy, I can't! I have an appointment with the dentist, " Bess lamented. " But George is here. Want to ask her? "

" Yes, great! I was going to call her next, anyhow, so we could make it a threesome."

After a few minutes' talk with an eager George, Nancy arranged to pick her up at Bess's place in fifteen minutes. " Oh, and George, " Nancy added, " please ask Bess to meet us here at my house for lunch when we get back. Then we can all have a good chat."

Bess had already left to keep her appointment when Nancy parked in front of the Mar-vins' house. George came running out of the door, her coat and scarf flying in the wind, before Nancy could turn off the engine.

" Golly, what fun! " George said breathlessly as she jumped into the car and slammed the door. " The woods'll be beautiful, with the leaves all turning! By the way, what're we going to investigate today? "

Nancy told her. " But first I have to stop at Westmoor U., " she added, " and talk to Professor Schmidt in the history department."

When they reached the university, the two girls left Nancy's car in the visitors' parking lot and walked to the professor's office. They found him checking through a pile of exam papers.

" How can I help you, Miss Drew? " he asked genially, taking out his tobacco pouch to fill his pipe after Nancy had said hello and introduced her friend.

" Last time I was here, you told me Professor

Crawford specialized in the history of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars. Is that your field, too? "

" Not exactly." Schmidt paused to light his pipe. " I do teach a course in that period of French history, but I certainly can't claim to be as expert in it as Dr. Crawford was. My own specialty is the Third Republic, roughly a century later. Why do you ask? "

" I was wondering what, if anything, you could tell me about a French nobleman who lived during that earlier period, the Comte d'Auvergne. Do you recognize the name? " Nancy asked.

" Hm, d'Auvergne." The professor tapped his pipestem against his lips reflectively. " I don't. But I tell you what, if it's important, I'll check with some of my colleagues at other universities. I could phone them this morning. Would that do? "

" Oh, Professor, I'd really appreciate it if you could, " Nancy replied. " Anything you can find out might help in solving a mystery case that I'm working on. Should I call you this afternoon? "

" If you have a phone number that I can reach you at, it might be better to let me call you. I have classes all afternoon and a department meeting this evening."

" In that case, I'll give you my home number, "

Nancy said, jotting it down. " And thanks ever so much for your help! "

She and George were soon on their way. The roadside trees were aflame with fall colors of red and orange and gold, and both girls thoroughly enjoyed the scenery.

" Whom are you going to see in Alton, Nancy? " George asked.

" Professor Crawford's married daughter. As I told you, Louise Duval hired him to carry out some sort of research for her, apparently during his summer vacation thirty years ago. But she died soon afterward, and now of course he's gone too. And so far as I know, the results of his research were never disclosed."

Nancy took her eyes off the road long enough to shoot a mischievous glance at her companion and added, " Incidentally, I've a hunch I'm not the only one who'd like to lay hands on it."

George gave a slight, nervous shudder. " You know something? That sounds pretty sinister! "

" Yes, it does, doesn't it."

The girls arrived shortly at Mrs. Grale's home.

" Come in, come in, Nancy, " she said, wiping her hands on a towel she was holding. " I've just been cleaning out some closets and now I'm ready for a coffee break, so you and your friend are just in time."

Leading the way into the kitchen, she went on, " I just want to get this coffee cake out of the oven, and we can have some of it while we visit."

Soon all three were comfortably seated in the sunny living room. As they sipped their coffee, Nancy took the snapshot from the album out of her bag and handed it to Mrs. Grale. " Does this mean anything to you? "

Mrs. Grale studied the photo and smiled reminiscently. " Oh my, yes. That's my father with that woman you mentioned—um—Miss Duval. I think I even remember when this was taken."

" Then you recognize the location? "

" Oh yes, of course. That's my father's retreat... it's an old gristmill near Peachtown. He fell in love with the place and bought it and restored it. He used to go there and write... textbooks, you know, and articles for historical journals."

George asked to see the snapshot and admired the old mill in the background. " What happened to it? " she asked.

" Why, it's still standing. It belongs to me now, but I let the historical society there use it as a tourist attraction."

" Since Miss Duval was photographed there with your father, " Nancy said, keeping her fingers crossed, " do you suppose there's a chance that any of his research reports might still be there? "

Mrs. Grale wrinkled her forehead thoughtfully as she offered the girls more coffee cake. " Do you know, that's an idea! " she mused. " Come to think of it, my father's old desk is still there. It's on the upper floor of the mill, where he did his working and reading. And I'm almost certain there were papers still in the drawers last time I looked. Just odds and ends, though—I doubt if there's anything important."

" Would you mind if I visited the mill and checked out the desk? " Nancy asked. " I might find a clue to whatever research he was doing for Miss Duval."

" Of course you may, " Mrs. Grale answered unhesitatingly. " I'll lend you a key and phone ahead to the Peachtown Historical Society to let them know you're coming. They're in charge of the mill and watch over it, " she added, smiling.

Elated and hopeful, Nancy and George chatted a while longer with Mrs. Grale, then left after thanking her for the refreshments and all her help.

Bess was waiting eagerly when the two girls walked into the Drews' house an hour or so later. " Yikes, I thought I'd faint with hunger! " she said. " All those delicious smells coming out of the kitchen..."

Nancy laughed. " Well, let's wash our hands and tell Hannah we're home. Then I'll set the table."

" No need to, I did it already, " Bess said. Then as George burst out laughing, she added defensively, " Well, it took my mind off the food."

While the three friends enjoyed Hannah's seafood quiche and a green salad, Nancy brought them up to date on the details of the case.

As she told them about the trunkful of old gowns in Lisa's attic, Bess was ecstatic. " Ooh, I'd love to see them! " she cried. " And just think, Nancy—if Yvette Duval was a spy, maybe that old peasant dress was one of her disguises! "

Nancy was struck by her friend's idea. " You know, Bess, " she murmured thoughtfully, " you might have something there."

Just then the phone rang. When Nancy answered it, her caller turned out to be Professor Schmidt, reporting back on what he had found out about the Comte d'Auvergne.

" He was a wealthy French nobleman who served briefly in the National Assembly during the opening days of the Revolution, when they were writing a new constitution for France. But a few years later he died on the guillotine."

" The guillotine? " Nancy echoed in a shocked voice. " How horrible! " She recalled the handsome young man portrayed in the museum portrait and shuddered to think of him suffering such a fate.

" It was a bad time, you know, " Professor Schmidt went on. " The Reign of Terror, they called it. Thousands of people ended up the same way, especially aristocrats like the count."

Nancy thanked him for his help and hung up, still shaken by what he had told her. Then, on a sudden impulse, she called Lisa Thorpe.

After they had chatted for a few moments, Nancy said, " I don't want to sound too hopeful, Lisa, but there's a chance—just a chance, mind you—that I may be close to solving the mystery of why your great-aunt wrote that letter to Pierre's grandfather."

Lisa was eager to hear more, but instead, Nancy described her two friends' reaction on hearing about the old gowns in the attic, and then asked if they might see them.

" By all means, Nancy! You and Bess and George must come over this afternoon, " Lisa said.

" I know your father isn't very happy to have me intrude, so if you'd rather not..." Nancy left the rest of the sentence unspoken.

" Don't give it another thought, " Lisa said firmly. " That no longer bothers me. It happens my father is at home this afternoon, but the invitation still stands. Come on over! "

Nancy chuckled as she put the receiver back on its hook, feeling in better spirits than she had a few minutes ago. It certainly sounded as if changes were taking place in the Thorpe household!

When the three girls arrived at Lisa's place, they were greeted politely but coldly by Mr. Thorpe. He retreated to his study as Lisa came into the hall. She smiled happily at Bess and Nancy and showed equal pleasure in meeting George.

" Could we show my cousin that portrait of Paul and Yvette Duval, Lisa? " Bess asked, trying to contain her excitement.

" Of course... especially since she's the lady who wore the gowns! "

After they had viewed the portrait, Lisa led the way to the attic staircase.

Even on a bright afternoon, it was spooky up there, and Bess shivered expectantly. But when the light was turned on and the trunk opened, she forgot her apprehension in her delight over the rich clothes.

When George and Bess exclaimed over the brocades and satins and fine muslins, Nancy lifted out the rough peasant dress. As she did so, its hem brushed against the metal edge of the trunk and she heard a slight clink.

Nancy gave a start, then checked for the cause of the sound. Something was sewn into the hem of the dress!