Free Boxcar Children 54 - Hurricane Mystery by Gertrude Chandler Warner Page B

voice.
    “Yes,” said Grandfather Alden, his face serious. “The wind can blow your house away. Or the waves can wash it away. Ellen was lucky her house withstood the hurricane. Some people weren’t so lucky.”
    “We’ll have to help Mrs. Ashleigh move the rest of her furniture back downstairs,” said Henry, as the four of them and Watch made their way back downstairs to the kitchen.
    “Yes,” agreed Jessie. “That will be one of our first jobs.”
    In the kitchen, they were glad to see that Mrs. Ashleigh had already moved the table and chairs back downstairs. They sat around the table, and Mrs. Ashleigh served them lemonade and cookies. She gave Watch a bowl of fresh water and Benny gave him a dog biscuit.
    Mrs. Ashleigh looked at Watch. “You’re a very good dog, aren’t you, Watch?”
    Watch wagged his tail.
    “Smart, too,” put in Jessie. She was about to tell Mrs. Ashleigh how Watch had helped solve mysteries, and had even mysteriously disappeared himself once.
    But Benny couldn’t wait any longer.
    “Tell us about the Pirate’s Gate!” Benny burst out. “Do pirates use it?”
    Mrs. Ashleigh shook her head and smiled a little sadly. “No. But a pirate may have built it, Benny.”
    “Who?” asked Benny excitedly.
    “My great-great-great-great-grandfather,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “His name was Fitzhugh, Forrest Fitzhugh. He came to Charleston when it was a little town at the end of the harbor. No one knew where he came from or how he got so much money, but he was a very wealthy man. He met my great-great-great-great-grandmother, Ellen, and fell in love. They got married and settled in Charleston. As a wedding present he gave her a beautiful house in Charleston, the house where I grew up and where my son lives now. She loved to garden so he designed a special gate for her garden.”
    “Oh, that’s so romantic,” said Violet, her eyes shining.
    “Why is it called the Pirate’s Gate?” asked Jessie.
    “What did the gate look like?” asked Henry.
    Mrs. Ashleigh held up her hand and laughed. “One at a time, okay? It was called the Pirate’s Gate for two reasons. One, many people believed that Mr. Fitzhugh had made his fortune as a pirate before he met Ellen and settled down. So they said when you went to visit Mr. Fitzhugh, you went in by a pirate’s gate. When Mr. Fitzhugh found out about it, he named his house — the house I grew up in, over in Charleston — Pirate’s Gate.”
    “People also said he kept it hidden nearby.” She paused and smiled. “When I was a little girl, I used to dig all over that backyard in Charleston, looking for buried treasure.”
    “What’s the other reason it was called the Pirate’s Gate?” asked Benny impatiently.
    “Well, the gate was made of black wrought iron. It was taller than your brother Henry and it had a ship set right in the middle of it.”
    “A pirate’s ship!” cried Benny.
    “Maybe, Benny. But no one’s ever been able to prove it, and Mr. Fitzhugh never said. He never denied he was a pirate, though. He just laughed and said there was nothing he couldn’t do. They say that was true, too. He could do anything — mend a sail or shoe a horse.
    “Anyway, I brought the gate with me when I moved from Charleston to Sullivans Island after my husband died. This house was our family’s summer house. Our family has spent summer vacations here since before I was born.”
    “And now the gate is gone,” said Violet sadly. She pushed her glass of lemonade away.
    “If only I’d had those old hinges fixed, it might still be here,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “Maybe it would have been strong enough to outlast the wind and waves of the hurricane.”
    “Maybe it hasn’t gone far,” said Henry. He jumped up. “We could go look for it.”
    “That’s very nice of you, Henry, but I expect that gate is at the bottom of the ocean,” said Mrs. Ashleigh. “Along with my front steps!”
    “It might not be,” said Violet. “And we are good at