Mandie and the Secret Tunnel (10 page)

“No!” Joe shouted. “Here, Mandie, take the lamp and light it. I’ll hold onto him!”

The man quit struggling and Mandie quickly lit the lamp with a match from her pocket. Then, holding the lamp, she stared into the man’s face, her hand shaking violently.

“Oh, no!” she cried, unable to move.

“Mandie!” the man said, smiling at her.

“You can’t be my Uncle John!” Mandie shook her head.

The man reached for her and took her into his arms as he passed the lamp on to Joe.

“But, I am!” He kissed her hair. “My dear little niece!”

“Then, you really are my Uncle John?” Mandie’s voice trembled with excitement.

“Yes, I guess I played a mean trick on you,” he told her.

Joe and Polly stood there staring and listening.

“But, Mandie, how do you know this man is your Uncle John? You said you had never seen him,” Joe insisted.

“Yes, it is Mr. Shaw, Joe. My next-door neighbor, remember?” Polly assured him.

“He’s just like my daddy! Can’t you see that, Joe? You knew my daddy. He looks just like him, except maybe a little older.” She leaned back to gaze into the smiling face—so familiar, yet different.

“Good guess. I’m fifteen years older,” Uncle John said.

“But why did you make us think you were dead, Mr. Shaw?” Joe asked.

“Well, I guess I just wanted to see what would happen to my property when I do die. When I heard of my brother Jim’s death, it was too late to see him, of course, but, thank the Lord, I had written
him a letter before he died,” he said, sitting down at the desk. “You see, there’s been hard feelings between the two of us since before you were born, Amanda. Then when I learned that he—was gone, I knew you were my only living relative, and since you are so young, I had to find out just whom I could trust to look out for you if anything happened to me.”

“Then Bayne Locke and the Snows are no kin to you?” Mandie sat on the floor at his knee, while Joe and Polly hovered nearby fascinated with their discovery.

“Absolutely none! And I want them out of my house immediately! I had to take my lawyer into my confidence to send the message of my demise and of course he knows they are no kin, but he would have to prove it to stand up in court.”

“But, Uncle John, where have you been all this time?” Mandie wanted to know. “That is, since I’ve been here.”

“I’ve been living with my people—the Cherokees.” He smiled at the girl. “Remember, we
are
part Cherokee.”

“You’ve been living with the Cherokees? Then Uncle Ned must have known all along what was going on!” she reasoned.

“Yes, I came home with him when he saw you out in the yard earlier tonight. I could see things were getting out of hand, with no one able to find my will and all. However, I didn’t know you children were occupying rooms on the third floor, and you
almost caught me when you got the lamp from Amanda’s room and went to the attic.”

“Well, where is that will?” Polly put in.

“It’s under the carpet over there by the door,” he said, pointing toward the small door which was still closed.

“Under the carpet?” All three gasped and then laughed.

“What a good place to hide it!” Joe exclaimed.

“Where does the door lead to, Uncle John?” Mandie questioned. “Mr. Jason tried to open it, but it was locked and he didn’t have the key.”

“Oh, he has no idea where that door leads. He has never had a key. I have the only key.” He pulled it from his pocket and got up to walk to the door. “Here, you want to see what’s behind here?”

Mandie scrambled after him, Polly and Joe crowding closely behind her. John Shaw put the key in the lock, turned it with a click, and pushed open the door. Behind it was a paneled wall. Reaching to one side he pushed a latch and one panel swung aside. And there before them was the entrance to the tunnel.

He smiled as the three gasped in surprise.

“Uncle John!” Mandie covered her mouth with her hands.

“If we only could have found a way to unlock that door!” Polly moaned.

“And all this time you have been trying to open a wall in the attic!” Joe laughed.

“The tunnel stops here. It doesn’t go up to the attic,” Uncle John told them.

“But, what is the tunnel for?” Mandie asked.

“My grandfather, your great-grandfather, Amanda, who was also named Jim Shaw, built this house at the time the Cherokees were being run out of North Carolina. He didn’t believe in the cruel way the Indians were being treated and he had this tunnel built for them. He hid dozens of Cherokees in there, fed and clothed them, and then helped them on their way when things calmed down along about 1842, and they could set up living quarters somewhere else,” John Shaw told her. “That was the way my father met my mother. He was twenty-eight years old and had never been married when he met my mother. She was only eighteen, a beautiful young Indian girl.”

“She was beautiful, Uncle John?” Mandie grasped his hand.

“Very beautiful, Amanda. I have her portrait. The frame needed redoing. It’s in Asheville now, being refinished. You’ll see it when it comes back.”

“Oh, Uncle John, I’m so happy!” Tears filled Mandie’s eyes as she looked up into her uncle’s face. “I’m so happy you are—not—are still alive!”

At that moment, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall. Jason Bond appeared in the doorway and almost dropped the lamp he was carrying when he saw John Shaw standing there.

“Mr.—Mr.—S-Shaw!” he stammered.

“Yes, it’s me, Jason. Sorry I couldn’t let you in on the secret, but no one knew I was really and truly alive except Ed Wilson,” John Shaw told him. “And I must say you’ve played your part well, Jason. You
can be trusted.” John Shaw explained everything to Jason Bond, who still stood there gaping and trembling.

“Oh, dear,” Jason muttered as he learned the truth. “I—I’m sure glad you’re back, Mr. Shaw. It sure straightens out a lot of problems. Like these people that moved in here—”

“Yes, I know. I knew about them as soon as they arrived. Uncle Ned kept me informed as to what was going on. Sorry you had to put up with them, but as soon as the sun rises they will be hitting the road.”

And that was the way it happened. Upon being confronted by the real, living John Shaw, Bayne Locke, Mrs. Snow and her daughter were all too glad to pack up their belongings and leave the next morning.

Mandie stood on the porch holding her uncle’s hand as the three made their abrupt exit. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now maybe things will simmer down!” she exclaimed.

“Well, no, actually things are just beginning to happen! I’m expecting company from Asheville.” He squeezed her hand.

Joe and Polly, standing nearby, looked at each other and Polly said, “Well, my mother is coming home today. So that eliminates one more guest from this house.”

Joe scratched his head. “Don’t know when
Dad will come back for me, but it should be sometime this week.”

John Shaw turned to them and said, “Well, let’s not everybody leave at once! I thought we could have a little party when the company arrives from Asheville.”

The three young people grinned at each other.
A party? What fun!
Mandie had not the faintest idea as to the importance of the party or the people who would be visiting. She merely knew it would be her very first
real
party.

The return of John Shaw was truly a happy event in the household. Every piece of furniture in the house was polished, silverware was cleaned, the best linens laid out for use, and two guest rooms readied for the two mysterious visitors who were coming from Asheville.

Mandie moved back to her room on the second floor. Joe also moved his things down to a room on the same floor. Everyone was excited, but no one could find out the names of the expected guests and John Shaw remained secretive about the whole thing.

Polly’s mother returned and Polly moved back home, but came to visit Mandie every day. Joe received a note from his father saying there was a sudden outbreak of fever and he was needed so
badly he couldn’t come for him until things were under control.

Early one bright, sunshiny morning John Shaw drew Mandie off into the parlor.

“Today is the day the company’s coming. Now, I want you to put on your loveliest dress and brush your hair until it shines—that is, if it will shine any more than it does already.”

“Oh, Uncle John, I’m
so
excited! I don’t even know these people, but I’ll do my best to look and act like a lady,” she promised him.

“That’s all I ask, and I know you will.” The old man smiled and her heart melted as the memory of her father’s smile flooded back to her.

Mandie hurried off to her room and enlisted the aid of Liza to button her up in the newest dress that had been made for her. It was made of snow-white muslin covered with sprigs of bluebells that matched her blue eyes. Liza combed out her long blonde hair and let it hang loose in ringlets.

“Miss Amanda, you are really and truly beautiful today,” Liza said, admiring the finished product.

Mandie laughed nervously. “Why do you say that, Liza, because you made me that way with all your fussing?”

“Nope, you just got that natural bloom today. Wouldn’t doubt but that Joe boy tries to put some sugar on them lips if he catches you by yourself,” Liza teased her.

Mandie blushed. “Oh, Liza, quit that silly talk. You know Joe has been my friend all my life. But, he’s
not
my boyfriend.”

“No, he ain’t no boyfriend yet, but I can tell he’d
like
to be,” Liza answered solemnly. “One of these days you’ll know.”

“Do you really think so, Liza?” Mandie turned to stare at the black girl.

“Sho as I’m astandin’ here.” Liza crossed her arms over her bosom. “You wait and see. And ’member I told you so.”

Mandie’s cheeks were still rosy. “Liza, do you think Uncle John will approve of the way I look?”

“ ’Course he will. Now, you’d best be gittin’ on down there to the parlor and act like a lady. Company comin’ any minute now.” Liza hurried her down the steps to the parlor where Uncle John was waiting.

“Where’s Joe? Isn’t he dressed yet?” Mandie looked around.

“First of all, my dear niece, you are absolutely lovely,” her uncle told her. “As for Joe, I sent him on an errand. He won’t be back for a while.”

“Oh,” was all she could say. She had been counting on Joe’s support at her side to meet these important strangers who were coming to visit.

At that moment, there was the sound of creaking wagon wheels and horses stopping out front, and John Shaw turned quickly to her. “Supposing you wait right here, my dear. I’ll meet the company at the door and bring them in to meet you shortly.”

“Yes, sir, Uncle John,” she agreed and he quickly left the room.

Mandie could hear women’s voices at the door,
one sounded older and one quite young; there was also the soft speech of a black woman, and Aunt Lou was directing them inside with the baggage.

“John Shaw, you could give a person more time to get things together for such a trip,” the younger voice was teasingly greeting Mandie’s uncle.

“My, yes, you’d think someone was dying, instead of it being a party we are coming to,” agreed the older woman.

“Well, I think you’ll find the party well worth your sudden trip. Come on in here to the parlor. I want you to meet my other guest,” John Shaw was saying.

“Really, John, we should freshen up a bit first,” the younger woman was hesitating.

“Nonsense, you never looked lovelier. Come on,” he insisted.

John Shaw appeared at the doorway to the parlor, accompanied by the most beautiful young woman Mandie had ever seen. She was dressed in rich silks, with diamonds sparkling on her fingers, and the scent of perfume came with her into the room. She had piles of shining golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a complexion that looked as though it had never been exposed to the sun’s rays.

Mandie could hardly take her eyes off the younger woman, but snatched a look at the heavy-set, bustling matron, also dressed in the finest and most fashionable clothes Mandie had ever seen.

John Shaw hesitated. “Amanda, this is
Elizabeth—you read about her in my letter to your father that night—”

The young girl was overwhelmed. So, this was the woman who had loved her father. She rushed forward to take her dainty hand. Elizabeth kept staring at Mandie and the older woman caught her breath and stood as if frozen to the spot.

Elizabeth was quite flustered as she turned to John Shaw. “John, who is this girl?”

John Shaw put one arm around Elizabeth and the other around Mandie.

“Elizabeth, this is your daughter, Amanda Elizabeth—”

The young woman trembled violently and John led her to a sofa to sit down, while Mandie, not quite comprehending the situation, trailed along, still holding onto her hand.

“Sorry it had to be such a shock, but I only found out the truth myself just a few months ago,” John told her.

The older woman had finally found her voice. “John Shaw, just what kind of trick are you playing?”

“It’s no trick, Mrs. Taft. You, of all people, know that. You knew that Elizabeth’s baby didn’t—”

John was interrupted by Mandie’s urgent tugging at his coat. “Uncle John, what—who—”

Elizabeth and Mandie were staring at each other, speechless.

“John, it can’t be! You know my baby died,” Elizabeth kept repeating. Then she turned to Mandie,
“Do you know your birthdate, child?”

“Oh, yes, I was born June 6, 1888,” Mandie managed to say.

“Your baby did not die, Elizabeth. This is your baby—grown to a full twelve years old, never knowing who her real mother was,” John was telling the young woman.

“John Shaw, you are only making trouble, you know that,” Mrs. Taft was warning him as she sank into a deep chair.

“Uncle John, please—” Mandie begged.

“Yes, my child, this
is
your real mother, and this dear woman is you real grandmother,” John finally turned to Mandie.

“It is quite a long story. Your mother, Elizabeth Taft, ran away and married your father thirteen years ago, but her parents opposed the marriage because your father was half Indian. Your father had lived here with me before that. Elizabeth’s parents managed to have the marriage annulled and moved to Asheville to get away from your father’s influence. Then, they discovered Elizabeth to be expecting a child. So, they sent her to an aunt’s house in Madison County where you were born. They told your mother you died at birth, and persuaded your father to take you, telling him that Elizabeth had agreed she had made a mistake and didn’t even want to see you. Then Jim pulled up stakes—”