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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Hero of Garside School, by J. Harwood
+Panting
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Hero of Garside School
+
+
+Author: J. Harwood Panting
+
+
+
+Release Date: August 22, 2008  [eBook #26392]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau, Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the
+Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 26392-h.htm or 26392-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/3/9/26392/26392-h/26392-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/3/9/26392/26392-h.zip)
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+      [oe] represents the oe-ligature.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL
+
+by
+
+J. HARWOOD PANTING
+
+Author of "Clive of Clair College," "The Two Runaways," etc.
+
+With Original Illustrations
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+Frederick Warne & Co., Ltd.
+and New York
+(All rights reserved)
+
+Printed In Great Britain
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: FALCON WAS DEAD.... TO MAKE GOOD HIS ESCAPE, NO TIME MUST
+BE LOST.]
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+         I THE MOTHER'S PRAYER
+
+        II THE MESSAGE
+
+       III THE CRY OF THE PSALMIST
+
+        IV SHADOWS OF THE EVENING
+
+         V THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK
+
+        VI HARRY MONCRIEF ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
+
+       VII A BAD COMMENCEMENT FOR THE TERM
+
+      VIII FOR THE SAKE OF A CHUM
+
+        IX GOOD ADVICE
+
+         X TORN FROM THE BLACK BOOK
+
+        XI FOR THE HONOUR OF THE FORM
+
+       XII THE FORUM
+
+      XIII A CHALLENGE FROM ST. BEDE'S
+
+       XIV THE CHAMPION OF HIS FORM
+
+        XV WHAT HAPPENED AT THE SAND-PIT
+
+       XVI "HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A LEPER"
+
+      XVII THE "GARGOYLE RECORD"
+
+     XVIII PAUL WRITES A LETTER
+
+       XIX THE SCHOOL OF ADVERSITY
+
+        XX WYNDHAM AGAIN TO THE RESCUE
+
+       XXI THE CHASM WIDENS
+
+      XXII HATCHING A PLOT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT
+
+     XXIII THE LAST BOND OF FRIENDSHIP
+
+      XXIV THE RAFT ON THE RIVER
+
+       XXV ON A VOYAGE OF ADVENTURE
+
+      XXVI WHAT HAPPENED ON THE RAFT
+
+     XXVII THE OLD FLAG
+
+    XXVIII HIBBERT ASKS STRANGE QUESTIONS
+
+      XXIX AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
+
+       XXX HIBBERT FINISHES HIS STORY
+
+      XXXI A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
+
+     XXXII HOW THE OLD FLAG WAS TAKEN FROM GARSIDE
+
+    XXXIII FRIEND AND FOE
+
+     XXXIV THE MYSTIC ORDER OF BEETLES
+
+      XXXV A REMARKABLE DISCOVERY
+
+     XXXVI THE "FOX-HOLE"
+
+    XXXVII THE LETTERS AT THE TUCK-SHOP
+
+   XXXVIII "FORGIVE, AND YE SHALL BE FORGIVEN"
+
+     XXXIX THE MISSING FLAG
+
+        XL HOW THE FLAG FOUND ITS WAY BACK TO THE TURRET
+
+       XLI FRIENDS IN COUNCIL
+
+      XLII UNEXPECTED TIDINGS
+
+     XLIII THE STORM BREAKS
+
+      XLIV IN THE GARDEN
+
+       XLV HOW THE VOTE WAS CARRIED
+
+      XLVI WATERMAN DOES A STRANGE THING
+
+     XLVII IN THE FOX'S HOLE
+
+    XLVIII THE BURNING SHIP
+
+      XLIX THE PETITION--WHAT BEFELL IT
+
+         L FOUND OUT
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+FALCON WAS DEAD.... TO MAKE GOOD HIS ESCAPE, NO TIME MUST BE LOST.
+
+"'I AM MR. MONCRIEF,' SAID THAT GENTLEMAN, STEPPING FORWARD."
+
+"AS ILL-LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, HIBBERT RAN FULL TILT AGAINST MR. WEEVIL,
+JUST AS HE REACHED THE OUTER DOOR."
+
+"SLIGHTLY RAISING HIMSELF FROM HIS POSITION ON THE ROOF, CRICK LIFTED
+THE FLAGSTAFF FROM ITS SOCKET, AND DREW IT QUICKLY BENEATH THE
+TRAP-DOOR."
+
+"THE BOY WAS KNEELING BESIDE HIM,--IT WAS MONCRIEF MINOR.... 'ARE YOU
+ALL RIGHT?' CAME IN A WHISPER FROM THE BOY."
+
+
+
+
+THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE MOTHER'S PRAYER
+
+
+"God grant that it may never happen, Paul; God grant that England may
+never be invaded, that her foes may never land upon our shores."
+
+And the lips of Mrs. Percival moved in silent prayer. Paul regarded the
+loved face of his mother for a minute or two thoughtfully, as though he
+were longing to put to her many questions, but dared not. At length he
+said, breaking the silence:
+
+"Did father ever speak of it?"
+
+It was one of the greatest griefs of Paul's life that he had never known
+his father. He had been a captain in the Navy, but was unfortunately cut
+off in the prime of his career by a brave attempt to save the life of a
+man who had flung himself overboard. The man was saved, but Captain
+Percival was drowned, leaving a widow and son to lament his loss. Paul
+at that time was only a year old, so that it was not till the years went
+on he understood the greatness of his loss. Often and often his thoughts
+turned to the father who had been snatched from him by a sudden and
+untimely death, especially when he saw the boys of his school who were
+fortunate enough to possess both parents; but often as his thoughts went
+to his father, he rarely spoke of him to his mother. He could see that
+the pain and sorrow of his death were still with her--that the awful
+moment when the news came of that sudden, swift catastrophe had written
+itself upon her heart and memory in writing which would never be
+effaced.
+
+Paul did not find out all that he had become to his mother till some
+time after his father's death--not, in fact, till his first term at
+school had ended. He had never been away from home so long before, and
+he never forgot how she pressed him to her, and with what tender
+earnestness she said, "Ah, dear, you do not know how I have missed you."
+
+That same night, when she had thought him fast asleep, she entered his
+room, looked long and earnestly in his face by the light of a candle,
+and then stole gently out. And that Sunday, when he went to the old
+church with her, he felt her hand steal into his as the vicar read the
+Litany; and the pressure of her hand waxed closer as the vicar's voice
+sounded through the church: "From lightning and tempest; from plague,
+pestilence, and famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death."
+Then rose the fervent response from the congregation, "Good Lord,
+deliver us." And none prayed it more fervently than the widow as she
+knelt by the side of her son.
+
+It was not only that Mrs. Percival had lost her husband at sea, but she
+had lost a brother, a promising young lieutenant in the Navy, while on
+active service in China; and Paul's grandfather had lost his life many
+years back while fighting under Nelson at Copenhagen. It is little to be
+wondered at, therefore, that Mrs. Percival rarely spoke about the sea to
+Paul. She feared its fascination; she was anxious to keep his thoughts
+from it. He was all that was now left to her, and she had no wish that
+he should go into the service in which the lives of three near and dear
+relatives had been sacrificed.
+
+"Yes, your father sometimes spoke of it," Mrs. Percival answered. "His
+father--that is to say, your grandfather--lived in the time when there
+was such a great scare about wicked Napoleon invading England; but that
+is long ago, and it was all ended by Nelson's last great victory at
+Trafalgar. Ah, Paul, these scares and wars are terrible. I sometimes
+think that it must be monsters ruling the world rather than men. If the
+prayers of mothers and wives and orphans could only be heard, I am sure
+that war, and the danger of war, would soon be over. But why are you
+worrying about an invasion?"
+
+"Well, Great Britain has a good many enemies, you know, mother, and
+people are talking about a possible invasion. Besides, I've got to write
+something about it next term, and it won't do for the son of a captain
+to make a mess of it altogether."
+
+"Write something?" questioned Mrs. Percival, turning pale. Ah, the
+terrible fascination of the sea! Was it going to claim her son as it had
+claimed her husband? "How is that?"
+
+"A prize has been offered for the best paper on 'The Invasion of Great
+Britain.' I may as well have a cut in."
+
+"By all means, Paul; but for my sake--for my sake"--placing her hand
+upon his shoulder--"don't think too much about the sea."
+
+She leant forward and kissed him; then went hurriedly from the room.
+Paul knew that it was his duty to do as his mother told him, but he
+found it very hard. He was a stalwart lad of fifteen, with the blood of
+two generations of seamen in his veins, so that it seemed as though his
+very blood were part of the brine of the ocean.
+
+He stood by the window, looking from the old Manor House in which he
+lived to the road. Presently he saw Job Brice, who did odd jobs about
+the house and garden, walking across the grounds to the paddock. Job had
+been a seaman in the Navy at the same time as his father, and for that
+reason had been given employment, to add to his pension, at the Manor
+House; but he rarely spoke about his seafaring life to our hero. Paul
+suspected that this, in a large measure, was due to his mother, for
+whenever Job did speak, he always dwelt on the most unattractive side of
+a sailor's life.
+
+So soon as Paul caught sight of Job, he seized his cap, and went after
+him. He came up with him just as he had entered the paddock.
+
+"I say, Brice, I've just been talking to mother about father. I don't
+like to question her too much, for I can see it gives her pain."
+
+"Quite right, Master Paul; it does give her pain," said Job, turning his
+scarred, weather-beaten face to the boy; "and it's very good of you to
+think of her. It ain't all boys who're so thoughtful of their mother."
+
+"Oh, don't butter me, Brice, for I'm long chalks from deserving it. But
+perhaps you wouldn't mind answering me a question I could never quite
+make out. I've heard that father died in saving another man. And that is
+all I do know, for mother never speaks of it, and I can't keep boring
+her with questions. How did it happen?"
+
+"Well, no one knows exactly. So far as could be made out, some
+pirate--some furrin sneak--got into his cabin while we were in port, and
+got at his private despatches. He was imprisoned in the hold by the
+captain's orders. The next day we were to make for Gibraltar, where the
+spy was to be tried by court-martial. The next night was a dirty one--no
+rain to speak of, but dark and blustery. While it was at its height, the
+prisoner in the hold managed to escape, and jumped overboard. Your
+father was one of the first to see him, and leapt after him. He reached
+the poor wretch and held him till the boat put out; then a fiercer gust
+of wind came, and they were separated. The spy was swept in the
+direction of the boat. Your father was swept away from it. The spy was
+caught up and dragged into it. Your father was never seen again. He'd
+saved the spy's life at the expense of his own. There wasn't a man on
+board the ship but esteemed--yes, loved your father. He was one of the
+best skippers that ever walked a deck. What we felt afterwards, Master
+Paul, can't be described. We felt just sick that he'd gone, and that
+that sneaking, shivering furrin rascal had been saved. Some of the boys
+would ha' lynched him, I think, only that he looked purty sick at that
+time hisself, and they knew a court-martial was awaitin' him at
+Gibraltar. Well, he were taken to Gib."
+
+"And what happened?" asked the lad, as the old salt paused.
+
+"What happened? Why, he got clean off!" cried the old salt indignantly.
+"There was little or no evidence agen him. The one who knew all about
+him, and what he'd been up to, was your father, and--and----"
+
+Job Brice came to a dead stop as the back of his big, rough hand went
+across his eyes.
+
+"My father had gone to the bottom! Yes, yes, I understand it all!" said
+Paul in a choking voice. "So they were obliged to release the man, and
+he got off scot-free?"
+
+"You've just guessed it, Master Paul! It makes me blood boil when I
+think of it!"
+
+Then he ended up, as he always did: "Ah, it's a dog's life, is the sea!
+Don't you ever think of the sea, Master Paul!"
+
+Paul knew from what quarter the final moral, with which Job invariably
+favoured him, came. Usually he smiled; but there was no smile on his
+face now. He could understand his mother's feelings as he had never
+understood them before. He could understand why she so rarely spoke of
+that time--why she never referred to his father's death.
+
+"You can't remember the man's name, I suppose?"
+
+"No, I can't remember that," answered Job, rubbing his head
+thoughtfully, "'cept that it was a foreign one--Zuker, I think it was,
+or some such name as that. Don't think no more about it. Thinking about
+it don't do no good."
+
+"Poor, poor father!" said Paul, as he turned once more towards the
+house. "He must have been a brave man. Oh, that I could have seen him,
+and known him, so that I might be able to remember him as he was in
+life, instead of carrying about a dead image in my heart!"
+
+Still, it was a comfort to know that his father had been loved by those
+under him--that he had died a brave death. Better, far better, to die a
+brave death than to live on in shame and infamy, as the man had probably
+lived whom his father had saved.
+
+And yet this mean, despicable spy might have turned over a new leaf from
+the day his father had sacrificed his life to save him. He might have
+begun a new and nobler life. If so, the sacrifice had not been in vain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE MESSAGE
+
+
+The long autumn holiday was drawing to a close. In a couple of days'
+time Paul would be back again at the old school--back again at Garside
+House. He had had a pretty good time during the "vac.," but, none the
+less, he should not be sorry to meet again the fellows of his Form.
+School wasn't such a bad place, after all.
+
+"Fact, if it wasn't for that wretched science master, Weevil--why wasn't
+he christened Weazel?--one might put up with a lot of it. Don't know how
+it is, but he always puts my back up."
+
+Paul was returning home across the fields, and had just alighted over a
+five-barred gate into a lane which wound round the side of the Manor
+House into the main road, when he was arrested by a cry of distress.
+
+"Hallo! What's that? Some one down? My--down it is!"
+
+A horseman had come a cropper a little distance down the lane. Paul
+immediately ran to his assistance.
+
+"What's wrong, sir? A tumble?"
+
+"Yes; Falcon slipped, and before I quite knew where I was I was out of
+the saddle. But I don't think I'm hurt very much."
+
+Paul extended a hand to the fallen rider. He grasped it, and tried to
+rise; a spasm of pain crossed his face.
+
+"I'm afraid that you are hurt, sir."
+
+"A little more than I thought," said the gentleman, as he leaned against
+the saddle. "Poor old Falcon," patting the horse, "don't look so
+grieved. It wasn't so much your fault as my carelessness."
+
+Then the caressing movement of the hand ceased, and he stood listening
+as one who fears pursuit. He tried to mount to the saddle, but failed.
+
+"Heaven help me!" he murmured. And then, as though Heaven had inspired
+him, he turned to Paul suddenly with a hopeful light in his eye: "Can
+you ride, my lad?"
+
+"Rather! I learnt to ride almost as soon as I could walk," smiled Paul.
+
+It was no empty boast. Paul had been taught riding at a very early age,
+and was as much at home in the saddle as on his feet.
+
+"I seem to have sprained my leg, and it is getting more painful every
+moment. I've got a message of the utmost importance that must reach
+Redmead to-night. You know Redmead?"
+
+"Well."
+
+"Will you take a message for me? I ask it as a great favour, my lad."
+
+He spoke with great earnestness, and waited eagerly for Paul's answer.
+Paul did not at once respond. Redmead was seven miles distant; it was
+getting dusk; the journey to Redmead and back would take him close upon
+two hours; his mother would wonder at his absence.
+
+"You won't refuse me, lad. You don't know what it means to me, and
+others."
+
+Paul liked the stranger's face. He was a man of about thirty-seven or
+thirty-eight, with clear, honest eyes, and an open, gentlemanly bearing.
+It was plain that the business on which he wished Paul to go was
+important. The boy's sympathies were with him, but still he hesitated.
+
+"Whereabouts in Redmead?"
+
+"To Oakville, the house of Mr. Moncrief."
+
+"Moncrief!" cried Paul. "I've a chum at school named Moncrief--Stanley
+Moncrief."
+
+"He's my son. The gentleman living at Redmead is Stanley's uncle. What
+is your name?"
+
+"Paul Percival."
+
+"I've often heard my boy speak of you. Glad to make your acquaintance,
+though I wish our introduction had taken place under happier
+circumstances."
+
+His chum's father! Paul was all aglow. He hesitated no longer.
+
+"Give me your message, sir. I shall only be too pleased to do anything
+for Stan's father."
+
+Mr. Moncrief wrote rapidly on a sheet from his pocket-book:
+
+"Enclosed fragments have come to hand. It is a letter from Zuker, the
+German Jew, who is in England. Take care. Be on guard!"
+
+When he had finished this brief note, Mr. Moncrief took from his
+pocket-book several fragments of torn paper, bearing on them, as it
+appeared to Paul, mysterious hieroglyphics. He put these inside an
+envelope together with the note he had written. Then he sealed it down
+and handed it to Paul.
+
+"You are my boy's chum, I feel that I can trust you. Give this to my
+brother, Mr. Walter Moncrief--in no one else's hands. I cannot tell you
+how much may depend upon those pieces of paper reaching him. You will
+not part with them whatever happens?"
+
+"God helping me," said Paul, impressed with the earnestness of Mr.
+Moncrief's words and manner. "There is my house, sir"--pointing to the
+Manor House. "You will find rest there, and perhaps you wouldn't mind
+telling my mother where I've gone."
+
+Paul mounted to the saddle. Falcon, as though anxious to resume its
+journey, sped along the lane into the open road. Though it was getting
+dusk, it mattered little to Paul, for he was well acquainted with every
+inch of the country for miles around. He could not help thinking of the
+strangeness of the adventure.
+
+"Stan's father--only fancy! I'm glad that I was able to help him and
+take his message. Shan't I have something to tell old Stan when I get
+back to school!"
+
+Then he began to wonder what the torn fragments of paper, with the
+hieroglyphics on them, could mean, and what could be the message of
+which he was the bearer. Had he seen it, his wonder would assuredly have
+grown.
+
+The cool breeze of evening fell upon his face. The shadows began to
+lengthen. The leaves rustled beneath Falcon's feet. It was a noble,
+intelligent horse, and seemed as conscious of the importance of the
+message upon which it was going as Paul himself.
+
+"Good horse--good Falcon!" cried Paul, stroking its neck. "I wouldn't
+mind a horse like you. I wonder how many times Stan has ridden you."
+
+By this time they had reached an open common. It had been a perilous
+place to ride over in years gone by, when robbers abounded, but those
+days had gone, and no thought of danger occurred to Paul as he reached
+it. There were two ways of going to his destination--one was by taking
+the road by the side of the common and skirting it, the other, by the
+more solitary but nearer road across it. Paul selected the latter,
+urging his horse to a gallop as he did so. Falcon immediately responded
+to the call of its young rider, and soon they were speeding across the
+common.
+
+When they reached the other side the road leading to Redmead stretched
+before them. It had grown suddenly darker. The road was bounded on
+either side by hedges, and the branches of trees interlaced each other
+in an arch-way overhead. Whether from the sudden darkness or that he had
+scented some hidden danger, Falcon slackened speed.
+
+"What's wrong, Falcon?" cried Paul. "Get on--the sooner our journey's
+ended, the sooner you'll have your supper. Now, then, old boy."
+
+The horse was about to speed forward again, but scarcely were the words
+from Paul's lips than a man sprang from the hedge and seized the bridle.
+
+"Stop!" came a sharp, decisive voice, with a foreign accent, "Stop!"
+
+Paul just caught a glimpse of the man's face in the half light. The
+cheekbones were somewhat high, but narrowed down sharply at the chin. He
+wore eyeglasses on the eyes, which seemed to Paul, in that swift glance
+he caught of them, of a steely blue. He had a thick, military moustache,
+drawn out to fierce points; but his chin was clean-shaven. Directly he
+stopped the horse, a second man sprang to the other side of it. Paul
+immediately concluded they were robbers.
+
+"What do you want? I've got no money--at least, only a few coppers.
+You're welcome to those, if you'll only let me ride on."
+
+"We're not robbers," said the first man, who seemed to be the master of
+the two, "and, therefore, we don't want your coppers. We've got one or
+two questions to put to you. If you'll only answer them civilly, we'll
+let you go your way. If you don't answer them----"
+
+He broke off with a shrug of the shoulders to indicate the terrible fate
+which might await the boy in the event of his declining to answer the
+questions put to him.
+
+"You're riding Mr. Moncrief's horse, Falcon?"
+
+Paul wondered who the man was, and how he had come by his information.
+
+"Yes, that's right. What of it?"
+
+"How is it you are riding Falcon instead of Mr. Moncrief?"
+
+Paul did not at once answer. He wondered whether by answering he would
+be doing wrong. Yet what wrong could he do by speaking the truth. Paul
+was an honest boy--as honest as the day--and detested falsehood of any
+kind.
+
+"Mr. Moncrief met with an accident--that's why," he answered doggedly.
+
+"An accident"--the stranger exchanged glances with the other man.
+"That's the reason he's been left behind, is it? You've come in his
+stead--eh?"
+
+Paul nodded. He felt somehow that he was giving Mr. Moncrief away, but
+he could not help himself.
+
+"Thought so. You're going to Mr. Walter Moncrief, his brother--eh?"
+
+Paul remained silent. He felt that he had said too much already.
+
+"Tongue-tied--eh? Well, I won't trouble you to answer, for I know well
+enough my information's right. All you need do is just to hand over to
+me the packet you're taking to Mr. Walter Moncrief. I'll take care of
+it."
+
+The stranger's information was only too accurate; Paul marvelled at its
+accuracy; but nevertheless Mr. Moncrief's words, "I feel that I can
+trust you. You will not part with the letter, whatever happens," came to
+him, and he determined not to give up the packet without a struggle.
+
+"You're not deaf as well as tongue-tied--eh? Quick! quick! hand over
+the packet," came the imperious voice of the stranger.
+
+Paul saw that he was in a desperate situation--one from which it would
+only be possible to extricate himself by strategy. He put his hand to
+the inner pocket where the packet lay, and drew it a little way from his
+pocket. This movement disarmed the man who held the bridle. He slackened
+his hold. As he did so Paul brought down his riding-whip--or, rather,
+Mr. Moncrief's riding-whip--sharply on the other man's face.
+
+With a cry of mingled rage and pain the man dropped the bridle.
+
+"Good Falcon--good. Now!" cried Paul, urging the horse forward.
+
+The second man made a lunge at the horse. Falcon, as though fully alive
+to the need of getting away, bounded forward like a dart along the road.
+It went forward at a breakneck speed, quivering in every limb, as though
+feverishly anxious to place as great a distance as possible between Paul
+and his pursuers.
+
+"Thank God, thank God!" Paul murmured, overjoyed at their escape. "What
+a noble horse it is. That man is a foreigner, I'm sure of it--one who
+would stop at nothing to gain his ends. Who is he, I wonder?"
+
+If Paul had only known! But all was dark to him, as dark as the road
+along which he was speeding. Only one thing was clear--that these men
+were the enemies of Mr. Moncrief; that they were anxious to get from him
+the packet of which he was the bearer. More and more Paul wondered what
+could be the meaning of it all--what could be the meaning of the curious
+hieroglyphics in his pocket.
+
+But suddenly, just as he was congratulating himself on the distance he
+had placed between himself and his pursuers, Falcon slackened speed, and
+began to breathe hard. What was the meaning of it? Had an accident
+befallen him, or had he grown weary? Paul knew enough of the animal to
+know that it would not readily slacken speed through weariness. Falcon
+was one of those sterling animals who would take every inch from himself
+before he would give in through weariness.
+
+If he could only get it a little farther on the road, it might be
+possible to keep the advantage he had gained on his pursuers. Once more
+he encouraged the horse to go forward; and once more it made a desperate
+effort to obey him.
+
+Then it reeled again. Paul had just time to extricate his feet from the
+stirrups when Falcon fell with a crash by the roadside.
+
+Paul hurt one of his legs by the fall, but he had no thought for himself
+as he bent over the horse.
+
+"Heaven help us!" was his fervent prayer, for in that one brief glance
+he could tell that poor Falcon was dying, and he knew that not long
+would elapse before his pursuers reached him.
+
+"What is it, old fellow? Good Falcon--good!"
+
+Once more Falcon responded to the call; it made desperate efforts to
+rise; but almost immediately slackened. Paul's hand went to its neck. It
+was bathed in perspiration and foam. What had happened to it? In the
+uncertain light it was impossible to tell. Had it injured a foot or leg?
+All at once Paul recalled the way in which the man had lunged at the
+horse at the moment of their escape. He must have injured it in some
+way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE CRY OF THE PSALMIST
+
+
+Yes; poor Falcon was dying. A crimson stream was running from a wound in
+its flank, and Paul knew that the horse had not many minutes to live.
+
+"The scoundrel!" he said to himself between his clenched teeth, as he
+thought of the man who had wrought this cruel deed. Paul was one of
+those brave lads who would never wittingly have done an act of cruelty,
+least of all to one of God's dumb creatures. It touched him to the quick
+to see the poor horse dying. He knelt by its side, and his hand went
+caressingly over it. Falcon turned to him with such a look of pathos in
+its eyes that a big lump rose in the boy's throat, as though he were
+choking.
+
+"I can do nothing for you, old fellow. I wish I could!"
+
+There was no help near, and it was clear to see that if there had been
+it would have been useless. Falcon was breathing hard, in its last stern
+fight with death. Paul could not bear to see its pain. His hand moved up
+to its head. It soothed the horse. For a minute it lay perfectly still,
+and then, as though in that brief interval of rest it had been
+collecting its strength for a last great effort, it tried to rise to its
+feet again. It rose a little way, then fell. Again it turned its head to
+Paul, and looked at him with glazed eyes. A shiver went over every limb;
+then the noble horse lay quite still, and Paul knew that it was dead.
+
+Tears came to his eyes. It was as though he had been standing by the
+death-bed of a human being. And, now that he was in the presence of
+death, he scarcely knew how to act. Suddenly the sound of distant voices
+roused him from the stupor into which he had fallen. For the moment, in
+his grief at Falcon's death, he had forgotten that he was being
+pursued--forgotten the message of which he was the bearer.
+
+The sound of voices recalled him to his duty. If he remained there, his
+pursuers would soon discover him, and wrest from him the letter with
+which he had been entrusted. Falcon was dead. He could do no good by
+remaining. To make good his escape, no time must be lost. By God's good
+help, he might yet succeed in eluding his pursuers.
+
+So he pulled himself together, resolved to go forward at all hazards.
+
+"It is for Stan's father," he said to himself, as he tried to run. But
+he soon found that another misfortune had befallen him. The injury to
+his leg prevented him from running. It was only with an effort he could
+walk at any speed, and at every step he took he felt that his pursuers
+were gaining ground.
+
+Redmead was close upon three miles away. How could he hope to reach it
+without being overtaken by the men who were so keenly pursuing him?
+Instinctively came to his memory the words he had so often heard in the
+village church--"The wicked oppress me--compass me about. They now
+compass me in my footsteps." And the cry of the Psalmist rose to his
+lips:
+
+"Hold up my goings in Thy paths, that my footsteps slip not. Show Thy
+marvellous loving kindness, O Thou that savest by Thy right hand them
+which put their trust in Thee. Hide me under the shadow of Thy wings
+from the wicked that oppress me, from my deadly enemies, who compass me
+about. Arise, O Lord, disappoint him, cast him down."
+
+With renewed strength he pressed on; but he had not gone far before he
+was compelled to slacken his pace. He realized that it was hopeless for
+him to evade his pursuers unless he could find some hiding-place. He
+looked around. There was no house near. But just a little ahead of him,
+to the right of the road, were the ruins of an old house which had been
+burned almost to the ground, and never been re-built.
+
+As a drowning man clutches at a straw, Paul made his way to the ruins.
+But he had not gone more than a few paces through what had once been the
+garden of the house, when a voice cried:
+
+"Hallo! Who are you? What are you doing here?"
+
+Paul was somewhat startled, for he thought the place deserted. He found
+himself mistaken, however, for a boy came from the ruins and faced him.
+He was slightly taller than Paul, and of slimmer build; but he was none
+the less well proportioned, and his limbs moved with the easy movement
+of a young athlete. In spite of the dusk, Paul recognized him. He was
+one of the senior boys of St. Bede's--the scholars of which were the
+deadly rivals of Paul's school. There had been a perpetual feud between
+St. Bede's and Garside for many years. Sometimes it would be patched up
+for a week or two; then it would break out with greater violence than
+ever. Just before the vacation, the feud had burst out stronger than
+ever. There is no telling to what length it might have been carried,
+but, fortunately, the vacation came on, and hostilities were suspended.
+The boy before him was Wyndham, one of the ringleaders on the other
+side. The recognition was simultaneous.
+
+"You're one of the bounders of Garside, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes," Paul candidly admitted; "and you--you're one of the Bede's,
+aren't you? I haven't time to talk. There's some one after me. Can you
+put me up to a place to hide in?--quick, there's a good fellow!"
+
+"Running away--eh?" said the other contemptuously, without moving.
+"That's like you Garside fellows!"
+
+"I wish I had only the time to teach you better," retorted Paul
+indignantly. Then, remembering all that was at stake, he suppressed his
+indignation, and in quick, earnest tones: "I'm not sneaking--on my word
+of honour. I'm the bearer of an important paper, belonging to a chum's
+father. Two men are following me up to try to get it from me. If I can't
+steer clear of them they will take it from me. You know this place. Hide
+me somewhere!"
+
+The earnest tones of Paul appealed to Wyndham.
+
+"I don't know of any hiding-place, except----"
+
+"Except what?" cried Paul eagerly, as he again caught the sound of
+voices from the roadway.
+
+"The old well."
+
+"The old well! How is it possible to hide there?"
+
+"Well, I can let you down in the bucket, if you care to run the risk.
+I've been down it myself--but I'm not a Garside fellow."
+
+It was as much as to say that "a Garside fellow" was not capable of
+doing what a "St. Bede fellow" could do.
+
+"I'd run any risk--quick! I can near them coming! Where's the well?"
+
+It was only a few paces from where they were standing. Wyndham led the
+way.
+
+"I'll let you down a little way; then draw you up again directly the men
+have gone--that is to say, if they should come this way."
+
+"They are coming this way. I feel sure of it, and there's no time to
+lose."
+
+"Here you are, then. Keep steady, and don't make a sound. They won't
+think of you stowed away down there."
+
+Paul got into the bucket. The chain was somewhat rusty, but though it
+was the worse for disuse, and creaked as it was lowered, it held firm.
+When Wyndham had lowered Paul a short distance, he made firm the chain;
+so that he was suspended half-way between the water and the top. It
+wasn't a very pleasant situation. A dank smell came from below, and it
+seemed the abode of darkness as the boy above shut out the last remnant
+of light by placing the cover a little way over the well.
+
+Not a moment too soon, for he had only just finished when a man darted
+up to him and seized him by the collar.
+
+"Ha! Got you at last, have I? A nice chase you've led us."
+
+"What's the matter? That's my collar when you've done with it. Drop it,
+please!"
+
+"Hand over that paper."
+
+"What paper?"
+
+"The paper you're taking to Redmead. Quick--out with it!"
+
+Wyndham, though he did not appreciate the man's grip on his collar, was
+enjoying the joke. He could see what had happened. The man had mistaken
+him for "that Garside fellow" down the well.
+
+"I would like to oblige you, but I really don't know what you're talking
+about. I haven't any paper."
+
+By this time the second man had arrived on the scene. His sharp, ferrety
+eyes, which--like the eyes of a cat--seemed capable of seeing in the
+darkness, immediately went to Wyndham's face.
+
+"Hi, Brockman! Hi! What are you doing? You have got hold of the wrong
+boy!"
+
+"The wrong boy!" exclaimed the man addressed as Brockman. "Are you
+sure?"
+
+"Certain! Where are your eyes?"
+
+"They're not quite so sharp as yours, Mr. Zuker, I know; but I made sure
+I'd tracked the youngster here."
+
+Paul could hear distinctly every word that passed from his uncomfortable
+position down the well. As the name Zuker fell upon his ears he trembled
+so that he nearly over-balanced himself and fell into the water below.
+It was not with fear. Zuker! That name was one he was never likely to
+forget so long as memory lasted. It was the name of the man for whom his
+poor father had sacrificed his life!
+
+Could it be the same? It was not a common name, and though the man spoke
+English readily, it was with a German accent. Instinctively Paul felt
+that it was the same, instinctively he felt that the man who had been in
+pursuit of him was the man whom his father had tried to save from the
+sea so long ago. As a recompense for what the father had done he was
+hunting down the son!
+
+"Thank you; it's very kind of you," said Wyndham, as Brockman released
+his hold. "Seems to me you're a little too hasty with your hands! The
+next time you take any one by the collar you'd better make sure first
+that you're going for the right one!"
+
+Brockman turned away without deigning to reply. Zuker was about to
+follow his example, but, suddenly checking himself, he asked:
+
+"Have you seen any one pass this way--a boy about your size--no, not
+quite so tall," as the sharp eyes took note of Wyndham's height.
+
+"About my own size--not quite so tall? Let me see." Wyndham paused as
+though trying to remember.
+
+"Make haste!" cried Zuker impatiently. "We haven't any time to lose.
+Surely you can remember."
+
+"I'm trying to. You see, there are a good number of boys pass along this
+road during the day."
+
+"I'm not speaking about the daytime--within the last quarter of an
+hour!"
+
+"A quarter of an hour. Let me think."
+
+"You'll get nothing from that blockhead, sir!" cried Brockman. "We're
+losing valuable time!"
+
+Zuker had drawn near the well. His hand rested upon the handle. Wyndham
+was a cool boy, whom it took a great deal to disturb, but it must be
+confessed that he required all his coolness and self-possession at that
+moment. He was fearful lest Zuker might catch a glimpse of Paul down the
+well. But, fortunately, he was too intent on questioning Wyndham. So,
+after asking him one or two more questions, he said cuttingly:
+
+"You're a sharp youth. You will set the Thames on fire some day--ugh!"
+
+He looked for the moment as though he would spurn Wyndham with his foot;
+but instead of doing so he gave a vicious twist to the well-handle--to
+the no small alarm of Wyndham--and hastened after his tool and servant,
+Brockman.
+
+Wyndham leapt to the windlass. The twist given by the German had set the
+bucket in motion. Paul was rapidly descending in the bucket to the
+bottom! He seized the handle in his hand and held on to it with all his
+strength. It vibrated as though it were a live thing. He feared that the
+sudden strain upon the chain might snap it in twain, but it held firm.
+
+"Hi, hi!" he cried below. "Are you all right?"
+
+A moment of intense silence--a moment which seemed interminable to the
+boy clinging to the handle of the windlass; then, to his great relief,
+the voice of Paul came faintly up the well:
+
+"All right! But--but it's been a near thing!"
+
+"Hold tight. I'm going to haul you up!"
+
+Slowly he hauled Paul to the top of the well; and, with an
+inexpressible feeling of thankfulness, Paul stepped from the bucket.
+
+"Have they gone?" he asked eagerly.
+
+"Yes. A near thing, you said; what happened?"
+
+"You just stopped me within about a foot of the water, and the sudden
+jerk nearly pitched me out of the bucket. The scoundrels have gone, you
+say?"
+
+"Yes," smiled Wyndham; "they've gone in hot pursuit of you. They little
+dreamt you were down that well! You couldn't have had a better
+hiding-place."
+
+"Better! Well, perhaps you're right; but it was a bit musty and
+uncomfortable! I'm much obliged to you, all the same. You seem a decent
+fellow, though you are a Beetle!"
+
+Beetle was the nickname given by the Garside boys to the boys of St.
+Bede's.
+
+Wyndham laughed. Paul glanced round the melancholy, deserted ruin. He
+could see no sign of human habitation.
+
+"And you seem a decent fellow, though you are a Gargoyle." (Gargoyle was
+the nickname given by the St. Bede boys to the boys of Garside School.)
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Paul Percival. I have often seen you amongst the other Beetles; but you
+don't live about here, do you?"
+
+"Not now." And there was a deep note of melancholy in Wyndham's voice.
+"You can see, it's a ruin; but before it was a ruin I lived here with my
+mother and youngest brother, Archie. He's gone--now."
+
+"Gone?"
+
+Wyndham nodded, and Paul understood too well what "gone" meant.
+Wyndham's brother was dead; but he wondered what his death could have to
+do with the ruined house. There was a painful silence between them for
+some moments.
+
+"I think you said you were going to Redmead?"
+
+"Yes; Oakville, that's the house I want."
+
+"I know it. Mr. Moncrief lives there. He's a big man at Chatham
+Dockyard, and has a lot to do with the defences of the Medway and the
+Thames, so I've heard. He designs things, too, for the Admiralty. I'm
+going partly that way if you don't mind walking with a Beetle."
+
+Paul laughed, and remarked that he could put up for once with a Beetle
+if the Beetle could put up with a Gargoyle.
+
+So they started together, and Wyndham told Paul by the way the reason of
+the ruined house.
+
+His father and mother had taken the house soon after they were married.
+He, Gilbert, was born there; so was his younger brother Archie. Three
+years after the birth of Archie, God visited upon them a great
+misfortune by calling to Himself Mr. Wyndham. Gilbert had by this time
+started on his school career, for he was several years older than his
+brother. The second misfortune occurred while he was away at school,
+three years after the death of his father.
+
+Little Archie was the idol of his mother, and a great pet with old
+Martha, the housekeeper, who had been in the household ever since the
+marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham. Early one morning Mrs. Wyndham awoke
+with a feeling of suffocation. On looking, half dazed, around the
+bedroom, she found it full of smoke. Her first thought was of Archie.
+She made her way to his bed. It was empty! She went to the landing; that
+was full of smoke also. She called for her boy. No answer came. The
+bewildered mother imagined that he must have escaped from the burning
+house while she slept.
+
+By God's providence she got out. She found that the two servants had
+managed to escape from the burning house; but there were no signs of
+little Archie! The distracted mother would have entered the burning
+house again to search for him, but she was held back. It was a merciful
+thing that she became unconscious, and did not see the end of the
+homestead where she had spent so many happy, peaceful hours. It was
+burnt almost to the ground, and amongst the ruins in the kitchen were
+found the charred remains of Archie.
+
+The little fellow was fond of watching old Martha when she lit the
+fires. It was believed, therefore, that he had stolen out of bed that
+fatal morning and tried to light the fire in the kitchen on his own
+account. The lighted match set fire to his bedgown, the bedgown to some
+curtains, and so the fire had spread. Archie joined his father in
+heaven.
+
+"I was away at school at the time," said Wyndham, when he had finished
+his painful story. "You can judge what a homecoming that was for me!"
+
+"It must indeed have been sad," said Paul feelingly.
+
+"My mother was ill for a long time, but at length she got well again. I
+was the only one left to her. After that we lived in a house about a
+mile from here. The ruins of the old house still remain, as you have
+seen. Some day my mother may build again, but she hasn't the heart for
+it at present."
+
+The story of little Archie Wyndham is perfectly true. It is not fiction.
+It happened precisely in the way I have described. I know the terrible
+fascination that fire has for children. Unfortunately they do not
+understand its danger. When, therefore, my dear boy or girl, you are
+tempted to play with fire, will you remember the sad fate of little
+Archie Wyndham? That will enable you, by God's help, to put the
+temptation from you.
+
+All at once Paul came to a dead stop. His hand went to his coat-pocket.
+Absorbed in Wyndham's story, he had forgotten all about the letter he
+was to take to Mr. Walter Moncrief.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Wyndham.
+
+Paul's face had turned to an ashen hue. His hand was still searching his
+pocket.
+
+"The letter!" he exclaimed.
+
+"The letter--well, what about it?"
+
+"It's gone!"
+
+"Gone!" echoed Wyndham scarce able to believe his ears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SHADOWS OF THE EVENING
+
+
+But too true--the letter had gone. No wonder Paul was bewildered,
+stupefied. He had risked so much to get that letter to its
+destination--had braved more than one peril, and come safely
+through--that it seemed heart-breaking to find the letter gone.
+
+"Have you searched all your pockets?" asked Wyndham.
+
+"All," answered Paul. "It was in this one--here"--he placed his hand
+upon his breast-pocket. "I put it here when it was given me, and I
+haven't shifted it."
+
+"Where, then, can it have gone?"
+
+Where? Paul knew well enough that it was in his possession when he left
+poor Falcon by the roadside, for he had felt in his pocket, and found it
+there. He must, therefore, have lost it since; but where--where? That
+was the question he kept repeating to himself without finding an answer.
+Of a sudden it came to him. It must have been jerked from his pocket at
+the moment Wyndham caught the handle of the windlass, nearly
+precipitating him from the bucket to the water.
+
+"I believe it's in the well."
+
+"What?" cried Wyndham. "In the well? How can that be?"
+
+Paul explained.
+
+"You must be right," said Wyndham thoughtfully, when the explanation was
+ended. "Well, there's one consolation--it's better for the letter to be
+in the well than you. It's a pity, but it can't be helped. What will you
+do?"
+
+Paul had been thinking. He could go forward to Mr. Moncrief at Redmead,
+and explain to him that he had lost the letter, or he could go back, and
+explain to the other Mr. Moncrief that he had failed in his embassy.
+Neither alternative was very palatable to him. Duty was before him as a
+pole-star. A still small voice was ever whispering to him, "Paul, thy
+duty. Do that in spite of anything that may happen to you. Place that
+first and foremost, even before self." What, then, was his duty? To
+confess to failure and defeat? No, never! That was the coward's part. He
+would not rest satisfied until he had made an effort to recover the
+letter he had lost, and he told Wyndham so.
+
+"I like your pluck; 'pon my word I do. Didn't think a Gargoyle had so
+much--really I didn't," said Wyndham; "but it's no use being foolhardy.
+If the letter's at the bottom of the well, how, in the name of wonder,
+are you going to get it up again?"
+
+"I don't believe it's at the bottom. The water was pretty thick, I'm
+certain, by the odour. There would be vegetable stuff, and that sort of
+thing floating on the top of it. Well, if that's so, the letter wouldn't
+sink. The gravity of the water would be greater than the weight of the
+letter."
+
+"Oh, the Gargoyles do go in a bit for physics--eh?" smiled Wyndham.
+"Fire away. I believe you're right. What's the next step?"
+
+"The next step is to go down the well again, and prove whether I'm right
+or wrong. Is it asking too much of you to go back with me?"
+
+"You mean going down the well again?"
+
+"If you'll oblige me by again turning the handle."
+
+Wyndham was by this time thoroughly interested in Paul and his mission,
+and he couldn't help admiring still further his pluck and determination.
+He never imagined that a despised "Gargoyle" had so much of those
+qualities. He willingly fell in with Paul's suggestion, and soon they
+were back again at the well.
+
+"I've forgotten one thing," said Paul. "I haven't a light."
+
+"Luckily I can lend you one. Wait here for a moment."
+
+Paul waited while Wyndham disappeared among the ruins. Presently he
+returned with a lantern, which he lighted and handed to Paul. Thus
+equipped, he once more took his position in the bucket.
+
+"Pay out slowly, and I'll tell you when to stop."
+
+The bucket slowly descended till Paul was within a foot or two of the
+water.
+
+"Stop!" he shouted.
+
+The bucket stopped, then Paul leaned over the side, and flashed the
+light of the lantern on the water. There, to his great joy, was the
+missing letter, floating on the weeds. He cautiously leaned forward, and
+grasping the letter, returned it once more in safety to his pocket.
+
+"Haul away!" he cried.
+
+And Wyndham hauled away, so that a minute later Paul was again at the
+brink of the well.
+
+"Found it?" asked Wyndham eagerly.
+
+For answer Paul produced the letter. It was slightly damp, but little
+the worse otherwise for its immersion.
+
+"Well, you deserve it. I'm jolly glad you've found it."
+
+"I should never have got it hadn't it been for you. It was very good of
+you to turn back with me, and I hope if at any time I can do you a
+service, you'll let me know."
+
+The two boys tramped on once more to their destination. Wyndham wished
+Paul good-night at the entrance to Redmead, his home lying in another
+direction. It was not long before Paul came in sight of Oakville. It was
+a fine old country house. A light was shining from its gabled front. By
+its light Paul could see that there was a man hovering about the house.
+He could not get a clear glimpse of him, but he was certain, from the
+man's figure and gait, that it was Brockman, the confederate of Zuker,
+the German spy. Knowing that Paul must come to the house, he had
+evidently been on the watch for him.
+
+Now that he had come so far, Paul did not intend being foiled at the
+last moment. He saw that it was useless trying to enter by the front of
+the house, so he crept round to the back.
+
+A light was coming from one of the windows. Paul made for this window,
+and looked through. He was scarcely prepared for what he saw. It was
+evidently a play-room. There was a large rocking-horse in one corner. A
+trapeze was slung up in the centre. There were single-sticks and foils
+on the wall, dumb-bells, Indian-clubs, a parallel-bar, and a
+vaulting-horse stowed away in another part of the room. But it was not
+so much these things which attracted the attention of Paul as the
+occupants of the room. A middle-aged gentleman was kneeling. He was
+praying aloud. Near him was a lady. On either side of her was a girl and
+boy--the boy about twelve, the girl a couple of years older. In line
+with them were a couple of maidservants and a governess. Paul could see
+that they were at family prayers. He guessed that the gentleman who was
+praying was Mr. Walter Moncrief, the gentleman he had come in search of
+by his likeness to his brother.
+
+When they had finished prayers, the lady went to the piano, and the
+little group joined heartily in a hymn Paul had often heard at school:
+
+    "Now the day is over,
+      Night is drawing nigh,
+    Shadows of the ev'ning
+      Steal across the sky."
+
+Paul listened reverently, with bowed head. How appropriate the words
+seemed to be. In very truth had the shadows been stealing across the sky
+that evening, and they had not yet dispersed. Brockman, the man without,
+was still hovering darkly, like a cloud, over that house. Again the
+singers within raised their voices:
+
+    "Through the long night-watches,
+      May Thine angels spread
+    Their white wings above us,
+      Watching round each bed."
+
+Paul echoed those words very earnestly in his heart as his hand clasped
+tightly the letter for which he had risked so much. The room was an
+addition to the house, and led by a separate door into the garden. When
+the singing had ended, Paul stepped softly to the door and knocked
+gently on it with his knuckles. It was opened by one of the servants.
+The light of the lamp fell upon Paul as the door opened, and the eyes of
+all in the room turned to him as he stood there, with the letter in his
+hand.
+
+"Can I see Mr. Moncrief?"
+
+"I am Mr. Moncrief. What is it you want with me, my lad?" said that
+gentleman stepping forward.
+
+[Illustration: "'I AM MR. MONCRIEF,' SAID THAT GENTLEMAN, STEPPING
+FORWARD."]
+
+"I've brought a letter from your brother, Mr. Henry Moncrief. He
+couldn't bring it himself, because of an accident----"
+
+"An accident?"
+
+"Nothing very serious, sir. A sprain, I think. He asked me to take the
+letter for him, and as he's the father of a school chum of mine, Stan
+Moncrief; I brought it along, and here it is," Paul explained rapidly,
+as he handed Mr. Moncrief the letter.
+
+Paul had by this time entered the room. Directly Mr. Moncrief glanced at
+the letter his face became very grave. He went from the room, and his
+wife followed him, evidently as anxious as himself to know the contents.
+The servants retired, and Paul was thus left alone with the boy and
+girl.
+
+There was not the least shyness about the former, for directly his
+parents left the room, he came forward and introduced himself.
+
+"I'm Harry Moncrief--named after the uncle you brought that letter from.
+He was my godfather, you know. This is my sister, Connie." Connie, who
+was a pretty, fair girl, looked embarrassed at her brother's blunt
+method of introduction, but he rattled on. "Rather good for a girl. Not
+so slow as most of them. Can take a turn with the bells or clubs"--by
+bells and clubs was meant dumb-bells and Indian-clubs--"and she can
+scout at cricket. Didn't I hear you say you were a chum of cousin
+Stanley's?"
+
+"Yes; we're in the same Form."
+
+"What--at Garside School?" asked the boy eagerly.
+
+Paul nodded.
+
+"Hurrah!--hurrah!" cried Harry. "I'm going to Garside next term. I've
+left Gaffer Quelch's, thank goodness!"--Gaffer Quelch's was a college
+for juvenile scholars in the neighbourhood--"and I'm going to see life
+at Garside."
+
+Paul could not help smiling at the boy's idea of "seeing life," and the
+high and exalted notion he seemed to have of Garside.
+
+"Do you know young Plunger? He used to be my chum at Quelch's, but he
+left there a term ago, and went to Garside. That's another reason I'm
+going there. Things are awfully slow at Quelch's since Plunger left He's
+a big pot at Garside, isn't he?"
+
+"Very," answered Paul drily.
+
+Paul knew young Plunger well enough. He was in one of the junior Forms.
+Though he had been at Garside only a term, he had almost succeeded in
+creating a record for the number of scrapes into which he had got during
+that short period.
+
+"Cousin Stan being so high up in the school, I don't want to let him
+down, you know, by making any mistakes when I get to Garside," Harry
+rattled on. "I want to do things in correct form, you see; for if I let
+myself down, I let Stan down. So I asked Plunger the right thing to do
+on going to Garside. Plunger's an awfully good sort of fellow, so he
+took the trouble to write down for me what ought to be done; but I
+wasn't to show it to any one here, for some of the things are school
+secrets, he tells me."
+
+Connie had discreetly withdrawn from the room, leaving Paul and her
+brother together. The latter, however, glanced round to make sure they
+were quite alone before he drew from his pocket the mysterious document
+which Plunger had written for his instruction on entering Garside
+School.
+
+"1. Trousers to be turned up at bottom three inches.
+
+"2. Spats on boots (patents).
+
+"3. White waistcoat. Eton jacket.
+
+"4. Introduce yourself to Bax, the porter, by giving him two slaps on
+the back and a dig with right-hand forefinger in ribs. Give him
+following particulars: Age and weight. Whether vaccinated--show marks.
+Give also measurement of biceps and chest.
+
+"5. On seeing Mrs. Trounce (matron) go down on right knee, and present
+her with your portrait (for school album). Write on bottom of card, in
+clear handwriting, 'With love and kind regards.'
+
+"6. Two shillings to be left at Billiter's for 'footing,' etc."
+
+Paul could scarcely refrain from smiling at the code of rules which the
+audacious Plunger had drawn up for his chum's instruction, the more so
+as Harry, who had never been to a public school, seemed to take them in
+all seriousness.
+
+"You've been through it all, of course?" said Harry, as Paul handed the
+rules back to him. "Kind of Plunger to take so much trouble, isn't it?"
+
+Paul was on the point of answering as Mr. Moncrief entered the room.
+
+Harry hastily thrust the paper out of sight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK
+
+
+"What is your name, my lad?" Mr. Moncrief asked as he entered the room.
+
+"Paul Percival," answered our hero.
+
+"And he goes to the same school as Cousin Stan. Isn't that stunning,
+pa?" exclaimed Harry Moncrief.
+
+"Many thanks for the great service you have done, Paul," said Mr.
+Moncrief earnestly. "You have not only done a great service for me and
+my brother, but for your country. A duty like that brings its own
+reward. But how was it you came by the back way?"
+
+Paul then explained all that had happened since he had left Mr.
+Moncrief's brother. The stoppage on the way by the two men who had tried
+to wrest from him the letter, the death of poor Falcon, the loss of the
+letter and its recovery, his arrival at Oakville, and his discovery that
+Brockman was lying in wait for him at the house.
+
+"The scoundrels!" cried Mr. Moncrief, with flashing eyes, as he paced
+rapidly to and fro the room. Then, pausing again, he clasped Paul by the
+hand.
+
+"I gave you credit for a great deal, but I haven't given you half credit
+enough. So long as you do your duty as you have done it to-night, you
+have nothing to fear for the future. May God bless you, and have you
+always in His keeping, as He has had to-night. I will return with you
+home, and see that no harm befalls you by the way."
+
+Mr. Moncrief had already given orders that his trap should be in
+readiness as quickly as possible, and shortly after the servant entered
+and announced that the coachman was awaiting his master.
+
+"Good-bye, Paul! You'll look out for me at Garside, won't you?" cried
+Harry, as he went out.
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll look out for you!" said Paul, as he thought with a smile
+of the instructions Plunger had given Harry on his introduction to
+Garside School.
+
+Mrs. Moncrief kissed Paul as she wished him good-night, just as his
+mother did, and he could not help blushing. He wondered whether Connie
+Moncrief would do the same, and was much relieved on finding that she
+made no attempt to follow her mother's example.
+
+Nothing was to be seen of the man Brockman when they got outside.
+
+"He has smelt a rat, and when he found the horse was being harnessed,
+got away as quickly as possible," said Mr. Moncrief. "We shan't be
+troubled with him again to-night."
+
+Mr. Moncrief's surmise turned out to be correct. No further adventure
+befel them on the homeward journey. Paul learned, by the way, that the
+man Zuker was a German Jew of great ability and cunning. He was
+suspected to be a spy in the service of a foreign Government--which
+Government Mr. Moncrief did not mention, but Paul guessed which was
+meant.
+
+The spy's purpose in coming to England was to ascertain all he could as
+to the defences of the Thames and the Medway.
+
+"Can't you have the man arrested?" Paul asked, deeply interested in all
+he heard, and feeling more and more convinced that this man Zuker was
+the spy whom his father had saved from the sea at the risk of his own
+life.
+
+"He's too adroit. He's one of the craftiest spies the Admiralty has ever
+had to deal with. We can get no direct evidence against him. Neither do
+we know his exact whereabouts. He's like some nasty slug--you can only
+tell where he's been by the slime he leaves behind. Of course, he has
+one or two confederates to help him."
+
+"I trust they aren't Englishmen, sir?" said Paul.
+
+"I trust so, too. But I fear there are still Judases in the land--men
+who would betray their country, as Judas betrayed his Lord and Master,
+for money, though the price would be a great deal more than thirty
+pieces of silver. Our enemies would give a great deal to get a draft of
+some of the plans in the archives of the Admiralty, I can tell you,
+Paul."
+
+By this time they had reached Paul's home, to the great relief of Mrs.
+Percival and Mr. Henry Moncrief, who had begun to fear that some mishap
+had befallen Paul by the way. By the latter's request nothing was said
+to his mother about the peril in which he had stood, for fear of
+alarming her.
+
+The two brothers had a short interview together. Then, as Mr. Henry
+Moncrief's leg was still painful, it was decided that he should remain
+at Rosemore--Paul's home--that night, and return to his own home the
+next morning. His brother returned to Oakville that same night.
+
+The next morning a carriage came for Mr. Henry Moncrief, to which he was
+able to limp by the assistance of a manservant.
+
+"I shan't regret the accident which has introduced me to you and your
+son, madam," said he, as he wished Paul and his mother good-bye through
+the carriage window. "I have to thank you for your hospitality, and him
+for the great service he has done me. God bless him and you!"
+
+It was almost an echo of words Paul had heard before, but they fell none
+the less sweetly on his ears. That night he dreamed he was hard at work
+on the prize essay, "The Invasion of Great Britain," and that just as he
+had finished it, a shadow fell across the room. He turned round to see
+whence the shadow came, and saw that it was--Zuker! Then he melted into
+thin air. When Paul turned to his essay he found that that had
+disappeared, too. In the shock of the discovery he awoke. Some one was
+bending over him, but it was not Zuker. It was his mother.
+
+"What is it, dear?" she asked anxiously. "You cried out so loudly that I
+thought something dreadful had happened."
+
+"Cried out! What?"
+
+"Help! help!"
+
+"Oh," said Paul, laughing, but shivering in spite of himself, "I was
+dreaming--that is all! I'm sorry to have disturbed you, mother."
+
+The day following, the vacation was at an end, and Paul returned to
+Garside. It was an old, turreted building, dating a couple of centuries
+back. Flying from the west turret was a flag, known as the "old flag at
+Garside." It had a history which was dear to every boy in the school. It
+had been taken by Captain Talbot in the Crimea. The captain had formerly
+been a scholar at Garside. He died soon after of his wounds, and left
+the flag as a legacy to the school.
+
+"Keep the flag flying at the old school," he said, almost with his last
+breath. And then God received his spirit.
+
+The flag was very much stained, and had scarcely any of the original
+pattern remaining; but, none the less, the boys were prouder of that
+flag than any other decoration in the school.
+
+Just as Paul came in sight of it flying from the turret, a timid voice
+sounded in his ear:
+
+"Is that Garside, please?"
+
+Paul, looking down at the speaker, saw a weak-looking, wizen-faced boy,
+with pale, thin cheeks, and one shoulder slightly higher than the other.
+In a word, he was a hunchback. Paul could not help a slight start as he
+looked at him. The boy was quick to notice it, and a slight wave of
+colour came to the pallid cheek. Paul was annoyed at himself for having
+betrayed astonishment, and answered kindly:
+
+"Yes; that is Garside. Are you going there?"
+
+The boy nodded.
+
+"Very well; we'll go along together. Do you mind taking my arm? The
+fellows are rather a rough lot till you get to know them. Your first
+term, isn't it?"
+
+The boy looked his gratitude as Paul took him by the arm.
+
+"Yes; my first term," he said.
+
+"Do you know anybody at the school?"
+
+"Nobody. I'm quite a stranger."
+
+He spoke with a foreign accent, and Paul wondered who he could be. At
+the same time he could not help pitying the solitary boy. He would have
+rather a sorry time of it amongst the other "Gargoyles."
+
+"Well, youngster"--a junior was always "a youngster" in the eyes of his
+senior--"if I can be of help to you at any time, don't be afraid to come
+to me. What is your name?"
+
+"Hibbert--Tim Hibbert. And--and if you don't mind, I'd like to know
+yours?"
+
+Paul told him his name, and they entered the grounds together. A number
+of the boys had already arrived. Some stood in small groups, talking and
+laughing about incidents that had happened during the vacation. Others
+were playing at leapfrog, or chasing each other from pillar to post.
+
+Those nearest to the gates paused in their games as Paul entered, and
+stared at the hunchback. Newall, a senior, said something about
+"Percival and his camel." The remark was as cruel as offensive. Paul did
+not mind for himself, but he did for his companion. He glanced at
+Hibbert, and again noticed the delicate colouring mount to the pale
+cheek. He had evidently caught the sense of Newall's remark, too.
+
+"They have rough speech as well as rough ways, haven't they?" the boy
+remarked quietly.
+
+"Some of them--yes; but you mustn't mind that. They're not such a bad
+lot, take them altogether."
+
+Newall was one of the most arrogant boys at Garside. He had a rough
+tongue, and loved to domineer. You will always find your Newalls in
+every public school, no matter where it be. They are terrors to the
+nervous, sensitive boy; but they always succeed in attracting to
+themselves followers, lads of like dispositions to themselves.
+
+Paul knew well enough that Newall intended the remark for his benefit,
+but he paid no heed to it. He looked round the ground in the hope of
+finding Stanley Moncrief, but saw nothing of him.
+
+"Perhaps he's gone to meet that young cousin of his," he
+said to himself, as his mind went back to Oakville, and the
+never-to-be-forgotten evening on which he had met Harry Moncrief.
+Hibbert wished to be taken to Mr. Weevil the science master, as he was
+to receive his introduction to the school through that gentleman.
+
+Paul accordingly took him to Mr. Weevil's rooms. He was fortunate enough
+to find the master in. He was a sallow-complexioned man, with thin,
+clean-shaven lips. He had a restless, hungry-looking pair of eyes, which
+went up quickly to Paul as he entered the room.
+
+"What is it, Percival?"
+
+"I've brought along a new boy, sir--Hibbert."
+
+"Hibbert?" Mr. Weevil at once rose from his seat, and eyed the boy
+keenly; then his hand went out to the lad: "Welcome to Garside. You can
+leave us, Percival."
+
+Thus summarily dismissed, Paul went out, leaving Hibbert and the science
+master together. It seemed as though the master were favourably
+impressed with the new boy--in spite of the fact that he was a
+hunchback.
+
+"Bravo, Weevil! That's a point in your favour, at any rate. I didn't
+think that you had much pity for any one. Poor little chap!"
+
+His heart went out in sympathy to the little hunchback. What a shadow
+his deformity must cast upon his life?
+
+"They say that hunchbacks are spiteful, and I don't wonder at it. But
+Hibbert doesn't seem a spiteful sort of fellow. Where did he pick up
+that foreign accent, I wonder?"
+
+As he thought of him, he could not help thinking how thankful he ought
+to be to God that he was healthy and straight of limb. It was not till
+he came in contact with poor, deformed creatures like Tim Hibbert that
+he understood God's goodness to himself.
+
+    "Not more than others I deserve,
+    Yet Thou hast given me more,"
+
+he said softly to himself as he returned to the ground.
+
+He had not gone far before he saw Stanley Moncrief coming towards him.
+He was about Paul's age and height, with a like ruddy complexion, and
+frank, open face. The two chums were delighted to meet again,
+especially as so much had happened since their last meeting. Arm in arm
+they walked about the ground talking eagerly, when their conversation
+was suddenly interrupted by a shout of laughter from the other end of
+the ground.
+
+"I say, Paul, that looks very much like my young cousin coming towards
+us," said Stanley, looking in the direction whence the laughter came.
+"What on earth has the little ass been doing with himself?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+HARRY MONCRIEF ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
+
+
+Well might Stanley ask the question. His young cousin had attired
+himself in the most extraordinary fashion. His trousers--plaid
+ones--were turned up three or four inches at the bottom, as though for
+the purpose of displaying to the utmost advantage the white spats on his
+patent shoes, while surmounting the lower half of him was a gorgeous
+white waistcoat, cutaway jacket, and tall hat. Paul could not help
+smiling, for he at once saw the reason of this remarkable attire. Young
+Moncrief had followed out precisely the instructions sent him by his
+friend Plunger.
+
+"He seems to have got himself up regardless of expense, Stan," smiled
+Paul. "He means making an impression on the school. But you needn't
+scowl so, old fellow. It's all done for your sake. He thinks it the
+correct form, and doesn't want to let you down."
+
+"Correct form--don't want to let me down!" repeated Stanley, bewildered.
+"What on earth are you driving at?"
+
+Thereupon Paul related to Stanley the conversation he had had with Harry
+on the day he had visited Oakville, and the mysterious document he had
+shown him from Plunger as to the correct way to dress, and what to do on
+entering Garside.
+
+"And the little soft has nibbled at Plunger's bait," laughed Stanley.
+"It isn't a bad joke, and I suppose I mustn't spoil it."
+
+So Stanley and Paul kept out of the way of the throng of boys who, with
+Harry Moncrief in their midst, were making their way across the grounds
+in the direction of the schoolhouse. Harry, with his arm linked in
+Plunger's--a dark boy, with mischief-sparkling eyes--seemed quite
+unconscious of the fact that the boys were laughing at him.
+
+"Bax is busy with some of the other freshers," Plunger was saying; "so
+you'd better get over your introduction to Mrs. Trounce, and we'll hunt
+up old Bax after."
+
+"All right, Freddy," answered Harry, quite elated at the thought that he
+had at last entered a public school where there were boys bigger and
+older than himself, and that he was being initiated into its mysteries
+and ways. "After that I suppose I can find my cousin?"
+
+"Oh, yes!"
+
+"And there's a chum of his I met at home during the vac.--Paul Percival.
+Do you know him?"
+
+"Ra-ther. He's one of the seniors--in the same form as your cousin. I
+didn't know that you knew him."
+
+"I've only met him once, but I should like to meet him again. Pater
+thinks no end of him."
+
+"Oh, you'll see plenty of him at Garside--a good deal too much. Those
+Upper Form fellows think no end of themselves, I can tell you. This way
+to the divine Trounce. You haven't forgotten?"
+
+"Of course not; I've got all the rules by heart. See, here's the photo."
+
+He drew from his pocket a photograph of himself as he spoke, with some
+writing on the bottom, which he handed to Plunger. The boys following
+behind grew black in the face trying to choke down their laughter.
+
+"Jolly good of you, Harry!" exclaimed Plunger, regarding the photograph
+admiringly. "I didn't know you were such an awfully good-looking fellow.
+Trounce will think a lot of it, I can tell you."
+
+The matron's rooms were a modern addition to the school, at the end of
+the building. Mrs. Trounce, who was at heart rather an amiable woman,
+was busily engaged in her room sorting out an endless array of boys'
+wearing apparel. Her motherly face, therefore, wore an unusually severe
+and worried expression as the boys entered the room. The windows outside
+were suddenly darkened with innumerable faces peering through the
+window.
+
+"I have the honour--the distinguished privilege," said Plunger, with an
+elaborate bow to the matron, "of presenting to you Master Henry
+Moncrief, of Oakville."
+
+Upon this he gave Harry a nudge, and Harry promptly fell on his right
+knee before the matron, and drawing from his pocket the photograph he
+had just shown to Plunger, presented it to Mrs. Trounce with a bow, and
+"Allow me, madam."
+
+A titter came from the faces pressed against the windows outside. Mrs.
+Trounce took the photograph. The severity of her face did not relax, nor
+did it soften when, looking from the photograph, she saw the words
+beneath it, "With love and kind regards."
+
+She looked for the moment as though she were about to administer to
+Harry a sound box on the ears, but, altering her mind, she bestowed it
+instead on the ears of Master Plunger.
+
+"With my love and kind regards, Master Plunger!" she exclaimed.
+
+The titters outside grew louder.
+
+"Oh, thanks--so much!" said Plunger, with his hand to his ear at this
+totally unexpected reception, which he had anticipated to be the portion
+of his chum. "Come along, Harry; we won't waste any more of Mrs.
+Trounce's time. She's very busy. I'll show you your sleeping quarters,
+and then we'll hunt up Bax."
+
+He beat a hasty retreat from the room, half anticipating that if he
+stayed longer the matron might seek to balance matters by boxing the
+other ear.
+
+"Why did she do that, Freddy?" asked Harry, when they had got safely
+from the room.
+
+"It was your photo that did it, Hal; that's quite certain. I noticed how
+she changed colour when she looked at it. It must have reminded her of
+some unhung scoundrel she's met with in the course of her career, and
+she took it out of me. She knows I like to suffer for my friends. That's
+my great weakness. I hope you'll make a better impression on Bax."
+
+He led the way as he spoke through a winding passage and up the
+staircase to the dormitories. He entered one on the door of which was
+painted "E." It was a good-sized room, with six cubicles, side by side,
+with their heads to the windows. Over each was a text of Scripture,
+while on a larger card, at one end of the dormitory, in illuminated
+letters, were the words, "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet." At the other
+end was a corresponding card, on which was printed, "Motto for the year,
+'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.--1 Cor. xv. 58.'"
+
+"There's your cubicle--next to mine; so that'll be jolly," said Plunger,
+pointing to a couple of beds at the end of the room. "The other fellows
+in the dorm. are Baldry, Sedgefield, and Viner."
+
+"But that only makes three. There are four beds."
+
+"Oh, yes! The fourth bed was Mellor's, but his pater took him away for
+some reason or other last term. He's gone over to the enemy."
+
+"The enemy?"
+
+"Don't you know who the enemy is? The Beetles--the bounders at St.
+Bede's. Pretty saints they are, too! You'll know enough of them before
+you've finished here, I warrant. They call us 'Gargoyles.' Cheeky
+bounders, aren't they?"
+
+Before Hal had finished there! Lightly the words were spoken. Neither
+paid much heed to them. But how much was to happen before Hal Moncrief
+had finished at Garside. Neither could see into the future--behind that
+veil which young and old are ever trying to peer through, but which God
+in His infinite love and mercy keeps ever close drawn. That lamp of
+His--the lamp of which the card spoke at the end of the dormitory--is
+for ever burning, however, and there is no fear of our footsteps
+stumbling so long as we walk by its light. Then the dark veil which
+hides the future need have no terror for us, boys and girls; for we know
+that when it is at last lifted it will only reveal to us the still
+greater light beyond.
+
+"Baldry and Sedgefield are decent fellows. I don't care much for Viner.
+He's rather deep, and does fagging now and then for Newall--a chap in
+the same form as your cousin. By the by, don't mention Newall to your
+cousin. It's like waving a red flag before a mad bull. They're this
+way."
+
+He crossed his two forefingers as he spoke, as an indication of Stanley
+and Newall's attitude to each other.
+
+Hal pondered over this information for a moment. His cousin, then, had
+his enemies? By the brief glimpse which Plunger had given him of the
+life at Garside, he could see that it was not all plain sailing. There
+were deeper currents than any he had seen at Gaffer Quelch's school. The
+waves beat with stronger force, and there were shoals and rocks.
+
+"Who'll take the empty bed? Will it be left empty?"
+
+"There's not much fear of that. I wish there would, but they're sure to
+put some fresher in it. I hope he's a decent chap, that's all! If he
+isn't, we must make it warm for him. But come along, let's get outside!"
+
+They turned to the door, but as they did so it opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered, followed by Hibbert, the weak little hunchback, whom we have
+already met with in the grounds. The deep-set eyes of the science master
+went to Plunger, from Plunger to Hal, whom he had never seen before.
+
+"Who are you? What are you doing here, sir?"
+
+He spoke in a sharp, quick voice, and Harry knew at once that he was in
+the presence of one of the masters, and the same instinct somehow told
+him that the master was Mr. Weevil, of whom he had heard, but never
+seen.
+
+"I'm Harry Moncrief, cousin of Stanley Moncrief, sir."
+
+"Oh!" The master half closed his eyes as he spoke. Hal thought that he
+was going off to sleep as he stood there. Plunger knew better. He knew
+that Mr. Weevil had the habit of seeing a good deal more through his
+half-closed eyes than when they were wide open, and that he was taking
+"full stock"--a mental inventory--of Harry. He kept them closed for so
+long that Harry felt more and more certain that he was going to sleep.
+When he thought he was right off, the master startled him by opening
+them to their widest extent, as much as to say, "Thought me napping, did
+you? But I'm not! I'm awake!--wide awake!--very much awake!"
+
+"Glad to meet you!" he said in a softer voice. "Trust you will get on
+well at Garside. Your father is a gentleman of some distinction. I hope
+you will follow in his footsteps. This is Hibbert"--introducing the
+hunchback. "He also is a new boy. I trust you will be friends--close
+friends. He has no friends or relatives in England. His father is abroad
+on foreign service. That appeals to your sympathy, as it has appealed to
+mine--does it not?--and will draw you closer to Hibbert. He will occupy
+this dormitory--the bed vacated by Mellor." Then, turning to Hibbert: "I
+hope you will prove more loyal to Garside than your predecessor--Mellor,
+I mean--and that you will endeavour, along with Moncrief here, to keep
+up the best traditions of Garside. You see our motto for the year"--he
+pointed to the motto as he spoke--"'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.'"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Keep to that, and you won't go far wrong."
+
+When he had given this advice, the master left the dormitory with
+Hibbert, who, occupied in observing his new quarters and companions, had
+not spoken during the interview.
+
+"A queer sort of chap, our new bedfellow, isn't it, Freddy?"
+
+"And Weevil's a beastly fraud!" said Plunger, with a shrug of the
+shoulders. "But, come, we must hurry up! You haven't yet been introduced
+to good old Bax."
+
+Soon they were in the grounds again. The same crowd of boys that had
+followed them to the matron's was hanging about the door as they went
+out, and began tittering again as Harry came in sight.
+
+Harry did not notice them, nor did he notice the wink that Plunger gave
+them as he glanced in their direction.
+
+"Great Scott!" he suddenly exclaimed. "There's Bax! Hurry up, Hal!"
+
+And, linking his arm in Harry's, he hurried him in the direction of a
+short, somewhat corpulent man in buttons, who was just coming from the
+lodge.
+
+"Is it the porter?" asked Harry.
+
+"Yes, the porter. You haven't forgotten the rules? Hurry up!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A BAD COMMENCEMENT FOR THE TERM
+
+
+No need to tell Harry to hurry up. He was as anxious to introduce
+himself to the porter as Plunger could have been. So, running forward,
+he quickly gained the porter's side, and brought his hand down twice,
+vigorously, upon that worthy's shoulder, and, before Bax had recovered
+from his astonishment, dug the forefinger of his right hand sharply into
+his side, exclaiming:
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Bax? Age, twelve--just turned; weight, five stone
+ten; biceps, eight inches; chest, twenty-eight; vaccinated, three
+places!"
+
+The little porter grew purple in the face. He gasped for breath. When he
+had recovered, he returned the vigorous slaps he had received upon the
+back by a still more vigorous slap upon the head of Harry.
+
+"Vaccinated in three places, are you, young gent. That will vaccinate
+you in four. Don't get practising any of your larks on Bax. He's not the
+one to stand it, young gent."
+
+And, so saying, the porter strutted indignantly off. Harry had reeled
+under the vigorous blow of the porter; but just before he recovered, a
+hand came down on his top-hat, and crushed it over his ears, while a
+voice cried, amid roars of laughter, "Vaccinated in four places!"
+
+As Harry with difficulty drew himself from under the crushed hat, he
+found himself confronted by the boy who had crushed it. It was Robert
+Newall--the boy who had taunted the hunchback. He was a big,
+strong-looking fellow, with sandy hair, prominent nose, prominent teeth,
+and bold, self-confident face.
+
+"Vaccinated in four places!" repeated Newall, with a mocking laugh.
+"What asylum have you escaped from, kiddie?"
+
+"Who are you? What did you do that for?" gasped Harry indignantly,
+smoothing out his hat, and looking round helplessly for his friend
+Plunger. But now that one of the Senior Form had taken up the baiting,
+Plunger had been compelled to give way to him. He was only a cipher in
+the mob of laughing, jeering boys who had gathered round Harry.
+
+"Chest, twenty-eight inches. What a Samson it is!" jeered Newall. "All
+your own?" He tapped Harry smartly on the chest with his knuckles, as
+though he were testing it. "Yes, genuine article. You're a wonder--a
+perfect wonder! And what's the biceps! Eight inches! Why, it's a regular
+Hercules! It isn't every day that a marvel like you comes to Garside; so
+walk round and show your muscle, kid."
+
+Harry now saw that they were poking fun at him. His face was scarlet; he
+was quivering with indignation. He was choking. The tears seemed very
+near the floodgates. It was only with a strong effort he kept them back.
+He did not answer his tormentor, but stared at him blank-eyed.
+
+"Did you hear what I said?" went on Newall. "Come, wake up--walk!"
+
+With a flip of his hand he sent the hat which Harry had been trying to
+smooth out whirling amongst the throng of boys. There was a shriek of
+laughter as the hat was caught, and sent whirling in turn to another
+part of the throng. This was the finishing stroke to Harry. He burst
+into a flood of passionate tears. The public school boy holds in
+contempt the boy who cries. He regards it as girlish, unmanly.
+
+"Oh, the fresher's a soft!" came from one in the throng.
+
+"A soft, a soft!" passed from lip to lip. Plunger alone was dumb. He had
+not wished that the joke which he had begun at Harry's expense should go
+so far; but now that it had been taken from his hands he was powerless
+to stop it.
+
+"Oh, it's a squealer--a dear little squealer! Has it brought its bib and
+tuck and feeding-bottle?" went on Newall, amid the laughter of his
+companions.
+
+Harry tried to choke back the scalding tears, which were coursing down
+his cheeks.
+
+"You're--you're a cruel brute!" came bursting from his lips.
+
+"Oh, the little squealer's got a tongue, and it can speak! Come, come,
+walk!"
+
+Harry did not stir. So Newall gave him a push which sent him over to one
+side of the throng, where another push sent him quickly back again. The
+sport was only at its commencement, when it was suddenly checked by
+Stanley Moncrief forcing his way through the throng, closely followed by
+Paul Percival.
+
+They had been in the fives court while Plunger and Harry had been inside
+the schoolhouse, and it was not till their return to the ground that
+they caught sight of the throng of boys, of which Harry was the centre.
+On making their way towards it, Paul soon saw what was happening.
+
+"They're baiting a fresher!" he exclaimed.
+
+"And it's my young cousin!" cried Stanley.
+
+He had no objection to a little fun at Harry's expense. Indeed, it was
+the ordeal which every new-comer to Garside had to go through in some
+form or other. But this seemed more than fun--more than a joke.
+Otherwise, his cousin would not be in tears. And it was not only the
+sight of his cousin in tears--it was the sight of his tormentor--Newall,
+whom he cordially disliked.
+
+"Stop that!" he cried, with flashing eyes and clenched fists, as he
+reached the centre of the throng. "He's my cousin!"
+
+"Oh, your cousin, Moncrief!" answered Newall, resenting this intrusion
+on Stanley's part. "Nice little girl, isn't she? Heard her squeal?"
+
+At a gesture from him, Viner--one of the boys who belonged to the
+dormitory in which Harry had been placed--stooped down at the back of
+the unsuspecting lad. Newall gave him a sudden push, with the result, of
+course, that he came to the ground over Viner's back. Unfortunately his
+head struck on the gravel, and when he scrambled to his feet again
+blood was flowing freely from a cut in his head.
+
+Stanley Moncrief was a quick, hot-tempered lad, and his temper was now
+thoroughly aroused. Before Paul could check him, he sprang at Newall,
+when he saw what had happened to his cousin. The two wrestled for a
+moment, then separated.
+
+Paul stepped in to stop fighting, but before he could do so Stanley had
+shot out his arm blindly. It passed over Paul's shoulder, caught Newall
+on the mouth, and sent him reeling to the ground.
+
+Angry passions thus roused, it is impossible to say how the quarrel
+would have ended; but Mr. Weevil appeared on the scene, just as Newall
+had leapt to his feet, eager to return the blow Stanley had given him.
+
+"What does this mean?" he demanded sternly. "Fighting?"
+
+Not a word fell from the boys. The tumult had ceased as by magic.
+
+"Do you hear me? I will stand no trifling! A nice commencement of the
+term. Taking advantage of the absence of Dr. Colville, eh?" came the
+stern voice of the science master, as his eyes went round the group. Dr.
+Colville, the Head of Garfield, had been taken ill during the vacation,
+and had been ordered complete rest from his duties for another month or
+so by his medical adviser. In his absence the reins of government had
+fallen into the hands of Mr. Weevil, as second in command.
+
+Still no answer from the boys. They were as silent as before. It seemed
+as though they had been smitten with sudden dumbness.
+
+"Lost your tongues, eh? They were going briskly enough a minute since!"
+went on the master grimly. Then he paused, and fixed his eyes upon
+Stanley. "Moncrief major! It was you who started this disturbance. You
+struck Newall!"
+
+"Yes, sir, I struck Newall," assented Stanley.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Ask Newall, sir."
+
+"I am asking you, sir!" came the sharp retort. "Why did you strike
+Newall? Quick, your answer!"
+
+Stanley waited for Newall to speak; but Newall's lips, bleeding and
+swollen from the blow, were tightly compressed. He scarcely heard the
+master's words. He could only think of the blow he had received. It was
+rankling in his mind, and turning to bitter hate the ill-feeling that
+already existed between him and Stanley. It was the first seed of hate
+that in the time to come was to bring forth a bitter harvest of tares.
+Ah, boys, beware of the first seeds of hate! Pluck them from you, as you
+would your hand from the fire. Otherwise they will spring up so quickly
+that they will wind themselves, like poisonous weeds, round every fibre
+of your being, blighting and strangling all the better impulses of your
+nature, killing, above all, the choicest blossom that comes to us from
+the Divine garden--the blossom of love. Where hate flourishes, love
+cannot be. There is no room for the two. Never since the world began
+have they ever flourished side by side--never since the seeds of hate
+were planted by the serpent in the first garden, the Garden of Eden.
+Beware, then, of the seeds of hate!
+
+From a fine sense of honour, Stanley remained silent. Now that he had
+struck Newall he had no wish to implicate him. He began to feel some
+pity for him as he saw the blood slowly trickling from his mouth.
+
+"Am I to understand that you refuse to speak, Moncrief?" demanded Mr.
+Weevil angrily. Stanley remained obstinately silent.
+
+"Perhaps you will allow me to explain, sir!" began Paul.
+
+Instantly Mr. Weevil swung round to him.
+
+"Not a word, sir! Have the goodness to speak when you're spoken to. The
+explanation must first come from Moncrief. If he has not yet learned the
+lesson of obedience, he must begin to learn it. When he has given me his
+explanation, I shall be quite willing to hear whatever else has to be
+said. Now, Moncrief, I am waiting. It is your last chance."
+
+He waited, but Stanley remained obstinately silent. Mr. Weevil's sallow
+face darkened.
+
+"Very well; I'm very sorry, but I must teach you that I'm not to be
+defied simply because Dr. Colville is away. I must teach you that I
+mean to be obeyed during his absence. Perhaps a few hours in Dormitory X
+will bring you to your senses."
+
+Dormitory X--a shortened form for "Extra Dormitory"--was a dormitory
+apart from all the rest in which, on rare occasions, a pupil was
+confined. It was not, as Mr. Weevil had said, a very good commencement
+for the term; but Stanley saw that it was useless rebelling, so he
+submitted to his fate as cheerfully as he could.
+
+"You haven't acted very well over this matter," said Paul, crossing over
+to where Newall was standing, as Stanley walked away a prisoner.
+
+"Acted very well!" exclaimed Newall, all the passion that had been
+rankling within him surging up. "How do you mean?"
+
+"You ought to have spoken up. Moncrief was waiting for you to speak."
+
+"Speak!" cried Newall contemptuously. "Why should I have spoken? I
+didn't want to speak. All I wanted was to get that blow back that
+Moncrief gave me; and I'll have it back yet, if--if I die for it!"
+
+He turned on his heel and walked away. There was so much passion and
+hatred in the words that even the lightest-hearted amongst the boys were
+impressed by them.
+
+"Newall's got his dander up," said Sedgefield, a rather good-looking,
+fair boy, another of the occupants of Harry's dormitory. "And Weevil
+looked as though he meant business. What a start for the term!"
+
+They strayed away one by one. Paul, turning over in his mind what had
+happened, thought he was alone. But presently he was conscious that some
+one was standing by his side. It was Harry Moncrief.
+
+"Have you forgotten me, Percival?" the boy asked timidly, for his
+confidence in himself had been shaken by the events of the last
+half-hour.
+
+"Oh, no; I beg pardon for not speaking to you. I'm glad to see you at
+Garside."
+
+"And I--I'm beginning to be very sorry that I ever came here. I've made
+an ass of myself, and got Stan into a mess in the bargain. What's to be
+done?"
+
+"Nothing--just yet. It won't hurt Stanley to be by himself a little
+while. I'm as much to blame as anybody, perhaps, as I ought to have put
+you on your guard against Plunger. But it's bad form here to spoil the
+fun of any one, and that is why I was silent. We shall all survive it.
+It doesn't hurt us to be laughed at sometimes. Most of us have had our
+turn at it; so don't be down in the mouth."
+
+He linked his arm in Harry's, and under the influence of Paul's cheerful
+talk the younger boy threw off the depression that had begun to steal
+over him, and was more cheerful. And all the time he was speaking a
+strong resolve was silently forming in Paul's breast. Whatever happened
+he would visit Stanley in Dormitory X that night!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+FOR THE SAKE OF A CHUM
+
+
+Nine--half-past! The clock in the tower had chimed the half-hour when
+lights were out in Paul's dormitory. In the senior dormitories there
+were only four beds--two less than in the junior. In that where Paul
+slept there were, therefore, three other occupants beside
+himself--Stanley Moncrief, Waterman, and Parfitt.
+
+Parfitt was not on particularly good terms with most of the fellows. He
+was one of Newall's cronies. Waterman was an easy-going fellow, who was
+on friendly terms with everybody, so long as they did not disturb him
+too much. He was one of those indolent boys, with plenty of talent, if
+they only care to exercise it. The disposition to do so, however, only
+came by fits and starts. In another respect, too, he was like a great
+many other boys--ay, and girls, too--and that was--he would often go to
+a great deal more pains to avoid a difficulty than it would have caused
+him by boldly facing it. So true is the proverb that lazy people often
+take most pains.
+
+Ten o'clock! Paul looked from his bed. There was the bed in which
+Stanley ought to have been sleeping--empty! Next to that, Waterman. He
+had been asleep for some time. Beyond his bed was Parfitt's.
+
+Was he sleeping? Paul was not quite certain, but he thought he was. It
+would be better to wait a little longer, however. There was no hurry.
+
+He could see in outline, on the wall beyond Parfitt's bed, the motto for
+the year, "Be ye stedfast, unmovable." He liked that motto. It had
+appealed to him when he had first seen it on the wall, and he had often
+repeated it to himself since. He had repeated it frequently to himself
+that night.
+
+"Be ye stedfast"--stedfast to his friend.
+
+The empty bed beside him made him sad. Stan ought to have been resting
+there. By the stern decree of Mr. Weevil he had been turned from his
+bed, and was at that moment a prisoner, in solitary confinement. For
+what? Simply because he had refused to speak. Oh, it was bitterly
+unjust. If any one ought to have been sent to Dormitory X it was Newall,
+but he had escaped without even a word of blame.
+
+Half-past ten! Paul listened again. He felt certain that Parfitt was at
+last sleeping; so he slipped out of bed as he had slipped into it--with
+his trousers and stockings on. He drew on his coat; opened the dormitory
+door, and glanced along the corridor. As he did so, the figure in the
+end bed moved, and glanced in the direction of Paul; then breathed hard,
+as though it were sleeping.
+
+Paul, unconscious that Parfitt had seen him, passed into the corridor.
+Dormitory X was in the room next to that occupied by Mr. Weevil, on the
+floor above. Paul crept up the stairs. They seemed to creak horribly,
+but it was the silence of the building that magnified the sound to
+Paul's ears. He glanced along the passage. A light was still burning in
+Mr. Weevil's room. He could see it stealing faintly through a crack in
+the door.
+
+"Studying late. Trying some scientific experiment, I expect. The fellows
+say that he burns the midnight oil a lot. That's what gives him such a
+sleepy look sometimes, I suppose. No wonder he's such a dab at science."
+
+Paul knew that it was useless to try to get to Stanley along the
+passage. He might succeed in getting past the master's room, but what
+then? The door would be locked, and he could not pass through a locked
+door. Dormitory X had a window looking on to the parapet outside, and it
+was by this window he hoped to gain Stanley's room. There was a small
+lavatory at the end of the corridor, and this likewise had a window
+leading to the roof.
+
+"Be stedfast!" he whispered to himself, as he climbed through the window
+to the parapet. It was a rash thing to do--a wrong thing. Though Paul
+might have questioned the justice of what Mr. Weevil had done in putting
+his chum in Dormitory X., he had no right, from a chivalrous feeling of
+friendship, to run the risk of a foolhardy adventure at night. But Paul
+thought that he was right, and that, by visiting Stanley, he was
+interpreting in the best way he could the school motto, "Be stedfast."
+
+There were but few stars in the heavens as he stepped on to the parapet.
+The wind blew freshly, and the clouds were scurrying quickly across the
+moon. It was a plain Gothic parapet, in keeping with the time-worn
+building. It rose a couple of feet above the gutter, and the latter, in
+turn, was nearly of the same width; so that there was not much
+difficulty in walking along it to the dormers.
+
+Glancing along the gutter, Paul saw that the light was still burning in
+Mr. Weevil's room. The window beyond was in darkness. That was where
+Stanley was? Would it be possible for him to reach it without being seen
+by Mr. Weevil? He meant trying. Stealing cautiously along the gutter, he
+stopped within a yard or so of the master's window.
+
+What was that? The sound of voices, and it came from Mr. Weevil's room.
+
+"Chewing over science with one of the other masters," thought Paul.
+"It's jolly late to be talking that dry stuff. But hanged if I don't
+think Weevil talks it in his sleep; he's so hot on it. He ought to be
+amongst the fossils in the museum. I don't believe he's got any warm
+blood in him. He was never meant for a human being. Steady--steady."
+
+He knelt on the gutter, and stretched himself along till he was just
+able to peer into the room. A lamp was burning on the table, on which
+were strewn a number of papers and documents. Over these two men were
+leaning, as though they were earnestly discussing their contents.
+
+"Some musty old parchments from the Assyrians or the lost Ten Tribes, I
+expect," Paul told himself. "But who's the other fossil? I don't seem to
+know him. Not one of the masters here."
+
+He could not see either of the faces very clearly as they bent over the
+documents; but one he knew to be Mr. Weevil's. The other was a
+stranger's.
+
+"Why doesn't he look up?" Paul asked himself, growing curious.
+
+The man was tracing something with his finger on the document before
+him, and Mr. Weevil was following the direction of his finger with the
+closest attention. Presently the man raised his head. In spite of
+himself Paul cried out. The men heard the cry, and he had only just time
+to draw back as they turned to the window.
+
+Paul lay there breathing hard. Would he be found out? His heart beat
+violently as he heard footsteps approach the window. It was opened, and
+the head of the master thrust out. Paul thought that he must be found
+out. There seemed no help for it. He gave himself up for lost.
+Fortunately, the light of the moon was quite obscured at this moment,
+and Paul seemed only a part of the shadows that were flitting over
+parapet and roof.
+
+"It sounded very much like the cry of a human being," said the master,
+peering out, "but it couldn't have been. It must have been the wind, or
+a night-bird."
+
+Then, to Paul's inexpressible relief, he heard the window close. Some
+seconds elapsed, however, before he ventured to look up. He feared, in
+spite of the closed window, to find the eyes of the master fixed upon
+him. Should he turn back? No; that would be acting the coward's part.
+Besides, he must catch another glimpse of the face he had seen.
+
+Presently he heard the murmur of voices within, and knew that the two
+had resumed their interrupted interview. So, taking his courage in both
+hands, Paul peeped once more into the room.
+
+Yes, he was sure of it. The man with whom Mr. Weevil was talking was
+Israel Zuker, the German Jew--the man who had tried to wrest from him
+Mr. Moncrief's letter--the man for whom he believed his father had
+sacrificed his life!
+
+Why had Zuker come there? Paul would have given a good deal to know what
+the two were talking about, but not a word of their conversation reached
+his ears. They were bending low, and spoke in little more than whispers.
+For one thing, that was an advantage. They were so earnestly engaged in
+conversation, that they were the less likely to notice anything that
+happened outside. Paul therefore determined not to put off any longer
+the effort to reach Stanley.
+
+He crept quickly to the other side of the window, then waited. He could
+still hear the hum of voices, so he felt sure that he had not been seen.
+
+"Now for old Stan. I'm sure he won't be asleep."
+
+Paul crept close to the window, and tapped on it with his nail.
+
+"Who's there?" said Stanley.
+
+The window was cautiously opened, and Paul slipped into the room.
+
+"Paul! You don't mean to say it's you!" exclaimed Stanley as their hands
+met in the darkness. "What's brought you here?"
+
+"To see you, of course."
+
+"Well, you can't see much of me, I'm thinking, by this precious light;
+so, if you won't mind me saying it, old chap, it was silly of you to
+come."
+
+"No it wasn't. I couldn't bear the thought of your moping here by
+yourself, and it was a ghastly shame of Weevil to send you."
+
+"Oh, come to think of it quietly, he was right enough! I dare say I
+could have got out of the pickle by speaking, but I was obstinate.
+Solitude isn't so bad," he added cheerfully. "It helps you to chew the
+cud of reflection."
+
+"And a bitter cud it is sometimes. That's why I've come. It's better for
+two to try their teeth on it than one."
+
+"It's very good of you, Paul, coming to me. Is Harry all right?"
+
+"Oh, he's all right, though he was rather cut up at your having to come
+here for him. It's Newall you'll have to look out for. He won't be
+satisfied till he's paid back that blow you gave him. He told me as
+much."
+
+"What did he say? Tell me the exact words."
+
+"After you had gone away with Mr. Weevil, I told Newall what I
+thought--that he had acted meanly in not speaking up. 'Why should I have
+spoken?' he burst out. 'I didn't want to speak. All I wanted was to get
+that blow back that Moncrief gave me; and I'll have it back, if I die
+for it!'"
+
+A sound of footsteps could be heard in the next room. In his desire to
+console Stanley in his solitude, Paul had said nothing about what he had
+seen in the master's room, though it had been uppermost in his mind all
+the time he had been speaking to Stanley.
+
+"Hallo! What's that? Weevil's guest on the move. Who is he, I wonder?"
+
+"Hush! Not so loud!" cautioned Paul, clutching Stanley by the arm. "You
+would never guess. You remember what happened to me on the night I took
+that packet to Oakville?"
+
+Paul had confided to his chum all that happened on that night.
+
+"Don't I? And I'm not likely to forget it in a hurry. I only wish that
+I'd been with you then, just as you're with me now. What about it?"
+
+"What about it? Why, the man in the next room is Israel Zuker."
+
+"Paul!" cried Stanley, rising to his feet in amazement.
+
+"Hush--don't I tell you!"--again clutching him by the arm, and pressing
+him to his former position. "Israel Zuker! I'm sure of it."
+
+"But what can he want with Mr. Weevil, and what can Weevil want with
+him?"
+
+"Ask me another. That's what floors me. Listen! Weevil is letting him
+out."
+
+They remained perfectly silent, as they listened to the footsteps in the
+passage; at first they were quite close, then they died away. Presently
+they heard Mr. Weevil returning alone. He paused as he was on the point
+of entering his own door, as though struck with an idea.
+
+"What's he up to now?" whispered Paul.
+
+They could hear the master enter the next room; then come out again. He
+stopped at Dormitory X.
+
+In another moment the light of a candle could be seen through a crevice
+in the door, and a key was put in the lock.
+
+"He's coming here!" exclaimed Stanley.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+GOOD ADVICE
+
+
+Instantly Paul crept under the bed, while Stanley as quickly crept in.
+Not an instant too soon, for the next moment the door opened and Mr.
+Weevil, candle in hand, entered. He held the light up, and glanced round
+the room; then came softly to the bed, and glanced down at Stanley.
+
+Stanley feigned sleep, but directly the light fell on his face he
+started up as though suddenly wakened, and, staring at the master with
+bewildered eyes, cried:
+
+"Where--where am I? What--what's the matter? Oh, it's Mr. Weevil. I beg
+your pardon, sir; but you so startled me. Is anything wrong?"
+
+"No; nothing wrong." Then the master added with a grim smile: "I only
+wanted to see if you were quite--comfortable."
+
+"As comfortable as one can be in a place like this, sir."
+
+"It was your own fault you came here, remember, and it is an easy matter
+for you to come out. I hope you've decided to give me an explanation
+to-morrow of that disgraceful scene I witnessed in the grounds."
+
+Stanley did not answer; and Mr. Weevil went out, locking the door once
+more behind him. It was not till he had gained his room that Paul crept
+from under the bed.
+
+"I put him off the scent, didn't I?" whispered Stanley. "If I hadn't
+started up like I did, he would have looked under the bed. I'm certain
+he would."
+
+"Very likely. The fat would have been in the fire then, with a
+vengeance. But how about the explanation he asks for? Why not? A few
+words will do it."
+
+"It's not coming from me, if I stick here the term through," came the
+dogged answer. "Let Newall speak first; I'll follow."
+
+Paul knew that it was extremely difficult to move Stanley from his
+purpose, when once he had decided on it. So he did not press the matter
+further just then, hoping that the morning would bring some change in
+the situation. His mind went back to the scene in the next room, and
+Stanley's went in the same direction, for the next moment he changed the
+subject by asking:
+
+"How did Weevil get to know that man Zuker, I wonder?"
+
+"That's what puzzles me. The only explanation I can see is that Weevil
+came across him in his travels, and is rubbing up his German by talking
+with him. Or perhaps they're interested in the same branch of science."
+
+"It's rather a late hour to patter German or science, isn't it?"
+
+The same thing occurred to Paul, but he could think of no other
+explanation of the mystery.
+
+"I wonder if the light's out now?"
+
+Paul climbed to the dormer, and, gently opening the window, looked along
+to that of the next room. It was now in darkness.
+
+"Well, now you had better get back to your own bed," said Stanley, when
+Paul had communicated to him the news.
+
+"I've come here for a night's lodging, and you're not going to be so
+hard-hearted as to turn me out."
+
+Stanley did not speak--in fact, he would have found it difficult at that
+moment. The fidelity of his friend appealed to him as few things could
+have done. It made him feel awfully soft, like a big girl or one of the
+kids in the junior forms. A senior schoolboy has always a great aversion
+to the display of emotion. He has a notion that it's unmanly and weak;
+so that when Stanley did speak he assumed a gruffness he was far from
+feeling.
+
+"Well, you're a muff--that's all I've got to say. I kick in my sleep
+sometimes--fearfully; so if you should find yourself on the floor in the
+night time, don't say that I haven't warned you."
+
+Paul smiled as he coiled himself up by the side of his chum; and soon
+they were fast asleep. Paul woke up at daybreak, and having expressed a
+hope that he would see Stanley back in his place that day, returned
+without mishap to his dormitory. The light was only just stealing into
+the room as he entered. His three companions seemed to be sleeping as
+placidly as they had done when he left them.
+
+"I wonder if I've been missed?" he asked himself, as he looked at the
+sleepers. "I don't think so."
+
+Had he seen the figure in the end bed--the same that had watched him the
+night before--open his eyes cautiously, and watch him curiously when his
+back was turned, he would have come to a different conclusion. However,
+he was just as unconscious that Parfitt was watching him as he had been
+the night before. He lay down for another hour, then rose before first
+bell had sounded, washed, dressed, and went out into the grounds.
+
+Early as it was he found Harry Moncrief there before him. He wore rather
+a dejected appearance.
+
+"I've had a beastly night, Paul," he said, coming forward to greet him.
+"I couldn't sleep thinking of Stan. It's the longest night I've ever
+had, and all the other fellows were snoring like steam-engines, except
+that new chap, Hibbert. I rather fancy Plunger had been playing pranks
+with his bed, but he didn't shout out or take on; so he was pluckier
+than I was. Do you think the fellows here will look down on me for
+snivelling?"
+
+"I cannot say. I hope so. Is young Hibbert out?"
+
+"He's somewhere about the ground, I think."
+
+Paul searched about the ground, but could see nothing of him. He turned
+into the field adjoining, and there he found him, sitting on the trunk
+of a tree, quite apart from the other boys, with his face resting on his
+hands.
+
+"He's just as soft as young Moncrief, but he's too proud to show it.
+He's been crying, I know."
+
+If the boy had been, he brushed away all sign of it when he heard Paul's
+footsteps, and started quickly to his feet. The frightened look in his
+eyes disappeared when he saw who it was. They grew quite bright in an
+instant.
+
+"What are you doing here, youngster?" said Paul kindly, placing a hand
+upon the boy's shoulder. "You're not going to be a moper, are you? That
+will never do."
+
+"A moper? No; but I'm different, I think, from most other boys. God has
+made me different, you see"--with a feeble attempt at a smile, as he
+glanced at his shoulder, "I don't care for the games most boys care for,
+and--and I like quiet places like this, away from the crowd."
+
+Paul could not help a feeling of pity as he followed the boy's glance to
+his deformed shoulder. He was acutely sensitive to his deformity, and
+that, perhaps, was the main reason why he shrank from the society of
+other boys--why he preferred solitude.
+
+"Have the youngsters in your dormitory been ill-treating you?" he asked,
+regarding Hibbert closely as he put the question.
+
+"Oh, no!" came the quick answer. "They've had their fun, of course,
+which I enjoyed as much as any of them. I never mind a joke--indeed I
+don't; so don't think they put upon me."
+
+Paul did not inquire what the jokes were. It was not well to inquire too
+curiously into the jokes of the juniors. He had been through that mill
+himself. Besides, though he pitied Hibbert, he didn't want to encourage
+him to tell tales out of school, especially as the boy seemed averse to
+the practice.
+
+"You're a plucky little chap and as good as you're plucky, I'll
+warrant."
+
+"Good--good? No, don't say that!" cried Hibbert, so earnestly that Paul
+could not help regarding him in wonder.
+
+He stood with his thin hands pressed tightly into each other, so that
+the nails seemed piercing into his flesh; and the eyes that looked into
+Paul's were quite wild and restless. In that moment it flashed into
+Paul's mind that he had seen eyes like Hibbert's before, but where he
+could not for the life of him make out.
+
+"Well, I won't say it if you don't like it," he laughed; "but you're the
+first one I've ever met with who objected to being thought good. I won't
+ruffle your feathers again. Come, let's get back to the ground!"
+
+On entering the ground one of the first they came across was Newall,
+along with his crony, Parfitt. Remembering the cruel jibe Newall had
+flung at Hibbert on the previous day, and what had afterwards happened
+between him and Stanley, Paul tried to avoid him. He felt as though he
+could hardly trust himself in his presence. But Newall would not be
+avoided. He came straight to them, and great was Paul's surprise when he
+said:
+
+"I think the advice you gave me yesterday was right enough, Percival. I
+ought to have spoken when the master asked for an explanation of the
+shindy between Moncrief and me. It might have saved him a night in that
+solitary hole--Dormitory X. But I mean speaking up this morning."
+
+"I'm very glad to hear it. I'm sure it's the right thing. Moncrief will
+be as pleased as I am."
+
+"Do you think so? Well, I'm glad of that; and I'm glad you think it's
+the right thing. I've slept on it, and that's what it's come to. Do you
+know, Percival, I'm beginning to think you an authority on the right
+thing to do? Parfitt is of the same mind. We were talking it over as you
+came up, so your ears must have been burning."
+
+Paul regarded him quickly. Was he in jest or earnest? His face was
+perfectly grave; so was the face of Parfitt.
+
+"Thanks for your flattering opinion. I shall know exactly how much to
+take to myself after you've spoken to Mr. Weevil."
+
+In spite of the apparent frankness of his manner and sincerity of tone,
+Paul could not help thinking that Newall was quietly mocking him--that
+he had no intention whatever of speaking to the master.
+
+"That's the boy who called me a dromedary," said Hibbert, as they turned
+away. "I shan't forget him. He has a cruel face."
+
+Hibbert spoke with more bitterness than Paul had yet heard from him, and
+there was a sparkle in his eyes, which sometimes had so much pain in
+them, that Paul had never seen in them before.
+
+"Now, look here, youngster, if you're going to remember every rough word
+you hear at Garside, you'll have to have a very good memory. So take my
+advice, forget all the things that aren't worth remembering, and
+remember only those that are. The jibe that fell from Newall isn't worth
+remembering. It's one of the things to forget. Promise me that you'll
+forget it?"
+
+"I'll try, as you ask me," said the boy sincerely, "though it'll be
+jolly hard. Things worth remembering! Yes, I know of one--your kindness.
+I shall always remember that."
+
+And before Paul could answer him he was gone.
+
+"A queer little beggar!" thought Paul. "He's got a good heart, though,
+in spite of the queer outside of him. Poor little chap, how lonely he
+seems!"
+
+Paul was more anxious than he had been for a long time for school to
+begin that day. It seemed for the sole purpose of thwarting him that it
+commenced later instead of earlier. Instead of commencing at the usual
+hour only one of the masters out of the six entered as the clock struck
+nine. Ten minutes elapsed, and still no masters. The boys commenced
+talking in whispers. What had happened? Something was wrong. An accident
+must have happened. Or could it be that the illness of the Head had
+taken a turn for the worse?
+
+Paul feared that the absence of the masters must be in some way due to
+Stanley. Perhaps they had discovered the visit he--Paul--had paid him in
+the night. Perhaps they were discussing what was to be done with him.
+These and a hundred other suspicions flashed through his mind as he
+waited the entrance of the masters.
+
+The hubbub in the school had grown louder. The boys no longer talked in
+whispers; their tongues were wagging loudly. Mr. Travers, the master in
+charge, made no effort to restrain them. He was himself talking to one
+of the Sixth Form boys.
+
+Suddenly, however, he broke off, and pressed the bell.
+
+"Silence!" he cried.
+
+In an instant the hubbub of voices ceased, as the door opened and the
+masters, headed by Mr. Weevil, entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+TORN FROM THE BLACK BOOK
+
+
+Mr. Weevil came to his desk. The other masters took up their positions
+at the head of the different forms. Mr. Weevil half closed his eyes for
+an instant; then, opening them, fixed them fully upon the eager boys
+before him as he said:
+
+"I have a few words to say to you before work commences, boys, and I
+regret to say they are not of a very pleasant character. A most
+discreditable act--a criminal act--has been committed since we last met
+in this hall. This desk"--he turned from the boys to the desk, and
+brought his hand down upon it sharply--"has been forced open during the
+night, and five pages torn from the Black Book. That is not all. Admiral
+Talbot--one of the esteemed governors of this school--has offered a
+valuable prize, as you are all aware, for the best essay on 'The
+Invasion of Great Britain.' I have taken a great interest in the
+subject, and had prepared a few notes, together with a rough plan of the
+attempt made by the Dutch under Admiral Tromp to reach these shores.
+Those notes have gone."
+
+The boys glanced from one to the other as Mr. Weevil paused. Who was
+guilty? They had no great love for the Black Book, for in the pages of
+that black-bound ledger were entered the names of every culprit who had
+been guilty of breaking the rules and had received punishment at the
+hands of the masters. It could be brought forward at any time in
+evidence against them. They would willingly have stood by and seen it
+burnt, but forcing open the master's desk, stealing from it important
+papers, and tearing leaves from the dreaded book was another matter. It
+was theft--theft, too, under its worst guise, for the desk had been
+opened at night-time, when the rest of the school were supposed to be
+sleeping.
+
+"The last entry I made in this book," went on Mr. Weevil, holding up the
+Black Book, "was last evening, immediately after school was over. I had
+entered in it the reason of my sending Moncrief to Dormitory X. Before
+returning the book to its place, I glanced through my notes; then placed
+the book on top of them, and locked the desk. I entered the room about
+half-past eight this morning, and, on going to my desk, at once found
+that it had been opened--for what despicable purpose I have explained to
+you. In the absence of Dr. Colville, I consulted with my
+colleagues--your masters. That is the reason why the school has not
+commenced at the usual hour. We have looked at the matter in every way,
+and can only come to the conclusion that some one amongst you has been
+guilty of this petty felony. The culprit is pretty well sure to be found
+out in the long run, so that it will be much better for him to speak up
+now. The longer he keeps silent, the heavier will be his punishment.
+Now, then, I am waiting."
+
+Deep silence fell upon the school. Still, the boys glanced from one to
+the other. Parfitt flashed a look along the form to where Paul was
+sitting. Baldry quietly pinched Plunger, and Plunger returned the
+compliment by kicking him under the form; but no word broke the silence.
+
+Failing to get an answer to his appeal, Mr. Weevil tried another plan.
+
+"Did any boy leave his dormitory after lights were out last night?"
+
+A struggle went on in Paul's breast for a moment. Should he speak, or
+should he remain silent? If he spoke he would bring upon himself the
+terrible suspicion that he had broken open the master's desk, and had
+torn out the leaves in which were recorded the punishment of Stanley
+Moncrief. It was well known also that he was one of the competitors for
+the essay prize.
+
+And then if he confessed the real reason of his absence from his
+dormitory, who would believe him? Certainly not Mr. Weevil. How could he
+convince him that he was in Dormitory X that night, for had he not
+crawled under the bed at the time he looked in? Should he speak--should
+he speak? Again and again Paul asked himself the question. Why should
+he? What had his absence from his dormitory to do with the theft from
+the master's desk? He had been nowhere near the master's desk, so what
+was the use of speaking? Looking up, he caught the glance of Parfitt.
+
+"What the deuce is Parfitt glaring at me for?" he thought. "Is it
+possible that he could have seen me leave the dormitory?"
+
+As he put to himself the question, the voice of Mr. Weevil once more
+broke the silence:
+
+"Does any boy know whether any of his companions was absent from his
+dormitory last night? Don't let him keep silent under any false notion
+of honour. It is for the honour of the school that he should speak. If
+he speaks, I will take care that no punishment falls upon him."
+
+Paul sat rigid as stone. If Parfitt saw him leave the dormitory, now was
+his time to speak; but no voice broke the silence.
+
+"Very well; I had hoped that the culprit would own up to his fault, or
+that we should have had assistance from some of you to find him out. I
+am disappointed in my expectation. As I have been unable to find the
+culprit with your assistance, I must do so without it. And be sure I
+will," added Mr. Weevil firmly.
+
+Prayers were said and a hymn sung, and the boys were on the point of
+filing out to the different class-rooms, when Newall stepped up to Mr.
+Weevil's desk.
+
+"I hope Moncrief isn't to be kept in Dormitory X any longer, sir," he
+said.
+
+"What's it to do with you--eh?"
+
+"You forget, sir. I was in the row. I ought to have spoken at the time;
+it was I really started the row--not Moncrief."
+
+"You, was it? Let me hear how it all happened."
+
+"Well, I was chaffing a new boy, and the new boy happened to be
+Moncrief's cousin. It upset Moncrief, and I ought to have left off; but
+I didn't. I kept it up, and that's how it was Moncrief came to strike
+me."
+
+"Well, it's very honourable of you to own up to it. If every boy in the
+school was as honest as you, Newall, we should soon find out who was the
+culprit who went to my desk. Moncrief was guilty of a Quixotic act of
+disobedience, as it turns out, and I think, in the circumstances he has
+been sufficiently punished. It is due to you that he is released."
+
+Newall was quite the hero of the school that morning. He had done a
+manly thing in speaking up for Moncrief. That was the general opinion.
+Paul thought the same. He had scarcely expected Newall would act up to
+the promise that he had given him, but he had carried it out to the
+letter. He had, somehow, never liked him, but he couldn't be such a bad
+sort of fellow, after all.
+
+"I must try to get over my prejudice against him," he thought.
+
+So Stanley came back to his form, looking none the worse for the night
+he had spent in Dormitory X.
+
+It was not, however, till he and Paul were in the grounds that they had
+the chance of speaking together.
+
+"I thought Weevil meant keeping me in that wretched dormitory another
+day and night," Stanley said, as Paul cordially greeted him. "How did he
+come to let me out, I wonder?"
+
+"Guess."
+
+"Have you been speaking up for me?"
+
+"No; Mr. Weevil wouldn't listen to me yesterday, and he wouldn't have
+listened this morning. Guess again."
+
+"My young cousin, I suppose," answered Stanley, after a moment's
+reflection. "Has he been crying to Weevil?"
+
+"Wrong again."
+
+"Oh, bother! I give it up, then! Who was it?"
+
+"You would never guess. Newall!"
+
+"What?" Stanley stared at Paul incredulously.
+
+"Fact--Newall. And he did it very well, too. He owned up frankly before
+the masters and all the school that it was he who commenced the
+quarrel."
+
+"Why, I thought he told you that he wouldn't speak?"
+
+"So he did; but he has altered his mind, you see. He told me he was
+going to speak, but I couldn't believe my ears till I actually heard
+him. A night's reflection has done him good, though he hadn't the
+benefit of a change of air in Dormitory X. It's really very decent of
+him, and I rather fancy if I were in your place----"
+
+He paused, as though reflecting on what he should do if he were in
+Stanley's place.
+
+"Well, if you were in my place--go on."
+
+"I should go up to Newall and shake hands with him."
+
+"Would you really?" said Stanley haltingly. "I--I--don't think I can do
+that, Paul. There's so much bad blood between us."
+
+"All the more reason you should shake hands. It's wonderful what a shake
+of the hands does for bad blood. It's the finest leech in the
+world--takes all the bad blood out."
+
+"Oh, you're a better fellow than I am, and can do that sort of thing. I
+can't!"
+
+"Nonsense! It's like a plunge into cold water--quite nice when the
+plunge is once made. Come along! I'll go with you."
+
+He tucked his arm in Stanley's, and together they went in search of
+Newall. They found him with Parfitt and another companion. Stanley
+walked up to him.
+
+"I hear that it's through you, Newall, I've got out of that den I was in
+last night. You've done me a good turn, and, if--if--you don't mind, I'd
+like to shake hands with you."
+
+He held out his hand as he spoke, but Newall took no notice of it. He
+looked straight at Stanley.
+
+"I really didn't know that I'd done you a good turn. What was the good
+turn?"
+
+"Speaking up for me this morning to Mr. Weevil, and getting me out of
+that wretched dormitory."
+
+"Oh, that"--he broke into a mocking laugh--"that! You call that a good
+turn?"
+
+A wave of scarlet came to Stanley's face. The extended hand fell to his
+side. He looked to Paul. Had his friend deceived him? Was this only a
+ruse on his part to make him shake hands with Newall, or had Newall
+taken leave of his senses? He could learn nothing from Paul's face,
+except that it looked just as mystified as he was.
+
+"Certainly it was a good turn. I thoroughly upset Weevil yesterday, and
+goodness knows how much longer he would have kept me a prisoner if you
+hadn't spoken up for me, as Percival here tells me you did."
+
+"Of course he did," put in Paul cheerfully. "He spoke up to Weevil like
+a brick. It's no use trying to hide your light under a bushel, Newall."
+
+"Yes, it's true enough I spoke up to Weevil"--the mocking laughter had
+died out of Newall's eyes, and there was now a cruel, vindictive light
+in them, just as there had been when Paul had spoken to him the day
+before--"and it's true enough I wanted to get you out of that hole in
+the roof. But it wasn't to shake hands with you. Not at all. I got you
+out of that den so that I might meet you squarely face to face."
+
+Stanley began to understand. It was not from any kindly motive Newall
+had spoken up for him that morning. The bitterness of his words now told
+him that, and the vindictiveness in his eyes spoke even plainer than
+speech. Paul had been deceived, and he had been deceived. Why had he
+demeaned himself by asking a fellow like Newall to shake hands with him?
+He ought to have known better from past experience.
+
+"You understand?" went on Newall in the same bitter tone. "Oh, yes, I
+see you do. You struck me a blow. The marks of it are still here, you
+see"--pointing to his lip, which was discoloured and cut. "I'm glad of
+it. It kept me awake last night, thinking of you. And when I looked at
+myself in the glass this morning, I thought of you again. It's nice to
+have a memento of your friends, don't you think so?"
+
+Stanley did not answer. What answer was possible to these mocking jibes?
+Paul was silent, too. All power of speech seemed taken from him.
+
+"Well, I mean having that blow back--the cowardly blow you gave me over
+Percival's shoulder. I could give it to you now"--his fist was clenched
+as though he would have dearly liked to make good his words--"but that
+would only mean that one or the other would be sent to the den from
+which I've just rescued you. That would be idiotic and make matters
+worse."
+
+"You mean to say that you don't wish to end the quarrel between us. You
+wish to fight it out to the bitter end?" demanded Stanley, at last
+finding voice.
+
+"You've got it!" came the slow, firm answer--"to the bitter end!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+FOR THE HONOUR OF THE FORM
+
+
+Paul was grieved at the turn things had taken. Just at the moment when
+he thought the quarrel ended it had burst out again in a deadlier form.
+Stanley was very pale. His hands were clenched, as were the hands of
+Newall, and the passion that distorted the one face was reflected in a
+lesser degree in the other. Hate never was, and never will be, a
+beautifier of the face. Like some subtle acid, it makes ugly lines. You
+will never see those lines in a beautiful or noble face, boys and girls.
+So, if you want to keep from getting ugly, never hate.
+
+Stanley was not only angry at the jibes of Newall, but angry at being
+led into a false position.
+
+"I really had no wish to shake hands with you. I'm just as keen on
+fighting it out as you are," he began.
+
+"One minute," interrupted Paul, stepping between them. "Let me have a
+word."
+
+"You get out of it, and speak when you're spoken to!" cried Newall
+roughly. "It was through you coming between us that I got this
+beauty-spot yesterday"--pointing to his swollen lip. "Hadn't you poked
+your nose in where it wasn't wanted this wouldn't have happened, and I
+would have given a good account of myself."
+
+"Sorry, and yet, come to think of it, I'm rather glad," answered Paul
+calmly, and not receding an inch from the position he had taken up.
+
+"Glad! How do you mean?"
+
+"Why, if it was through me you got that blow, your quarrel's with me,
+and not Moncrief. What's the use of trying to pay back to him what you
+owe to me?"
+
+This was a novel way of looking at the dispute which had not occurred to
+Newall. As he was not ready with an answer, Paul went on:
+
+"Besides, it was you who got me to speak to Moncrief on--excuse me
+saying so--false pretences. I thought you wanted to end the quarrel, to
+shake hands with him, and have done with it. It wasn't shaking hands you
+wanted, it seems, but clenched fists. I brought him here on a fool's
+errand; so the quarrel's mine, not his."
+
+Stanley wished to step in again, but Paul gently yet firmly held his
+ground.
+
+"I don't understand quite what you're driving at," said Newall. "It's a
+bit of a riddle; but if you want a thrashing as well as your friend, I
+dare say you can be obliged, but he comes first. Let him speak for
+himself. You can speak for yourself after. Now, Moncrief, no more
+shirking."
+
+"It's my quarrel, I say," Paul answered in the same firm tone, and still
+keeping Stanley back. "Of course, you think different, and Moncrief here
+thinks different, so let's appeal to the Form."
+
+"What's that?" cried Newall.
+
+"Appeal to the Form. The fellows will see things clearer than we can."
+
+The suggestion took Newall's breath away.
+
+"You really mean it?"
+
+"I really mean it."
+
+Newall thought a moment. An appeal to the Form was altogether a new
+thing, but as he had not the slightest doubt as to which way they would
+decide, why should he not fall in with it?
+
+"Does Moncrief agree to that?" Stanley nodded.
+
+"Very well; let it be as you say, Percival--an appeal to the Form."
+
+Paul, gratified that the quarrel had received a momentary check, was
+turning away with Stanley, when Parfitt, who had scarcely spoken
+throughout the scene, touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"One minute. Just a little word with you."
+
+He used in effect the same words as Paul had used when he stood between
+Newall and Stanley.
+
+"Didn't you find it rather cold in the corridor last night--eh?" he
+asked, with a meaning smile.
+
+Before Paul could answer, Parfitt followed in the footsteps of Newall.
+
+Cold in the corridor last night? What did Parfitt mean? The instant Paul
+put to himself the question the answer came to him--Parfitt must have
+seen him leave the dormitory in the night. Was there anything else in
+his question? Yes, he felt sure there was something behind it.
+
+"What was it, Paul? What did he want with you?" asked Stanley, coming up
+to him.
+
+"He wanted to know whether I was in the corridor last night. I thought
+all the fellows were asleep, but he must have been awake, playing the
+spy."
+
+"What of it? You're not the first fellow who's been in the corridor
+after 'lights out' by long chalks."
+
+"It was not that--it was not being in the corridor, and Parfitt knowing
+it--troubles me. But there's something else--much worse--a beastly
+insinuation. Phew!"
+
+The air seemed to have suddenly grown oppressive to Paul. He was no
+longer the calm, cool, self-reliant fellow who had stood between Stanley
+and Newall.
+
+"Beastly insinuation! What?"
+
+"You do not know what has happened. While I was with you in Dormitory X
+some one entered the big hall, broke open Weevil's desk, took out the
+Black Book, and tore from it the last five pages. That wasn't all. The
+culprit, whoever he was, took away some rough notes and plans Weevil had
+made on the subject of the prize essay, 'The Invasion of Great Britain.'
+Well, do you see now what Parfitt means to insinuate? He means to
+insinuate that I am the culprit--that I was the one who broke open Mr.
+Weevil's desk, tore the leaves from the Black Book, and stole the
+master's notes."
+
+"No, no; it can't be!" exclaimed Stanley, aghast.
+
+"It can be, and is; I am sure of it. That is the reason why Parfitt
+called me aside in such a mysterious manner."
+
+"The mean cad! But supposing he does wish to insinuate such a dastardly
+thing, you've an easy answer. Are you forgetting what you said just
+now--you were with me last night in Dormitory X?"
+
+"I'm not forgetting, Stan. It's you. Supposing I confessed what actually
+happened--that I was with you, and did not go near the master's desk
+last night; and supposing you said exactly the same thing--what then?
+You forget what happened. Mr. Weevil looked in the dormitory, you
+remember; looked round the dormitory, you remember, and spoke to you. He
+saw nothing of me, because I was hiding. If I said that I was in
+Dormitory X last night, therefore, the master himself would accuse me of
+falsehood; and he would have the same answer for you if you backed me
+up."
+
+Stanley did not at once answer. He could now see clearly enough the
+false position in which his friend had been placed in coming to share
+with him in his punishment. But he could only see the chivalry of it. He
+did not see that the step, chivalrous though it might be, had been a
+wrong step, and was bringing in its train the consequences of
+wrong-doing.
+
+"Mr. Weevil questioned the school this morning before you returned,"
+Paul went on. "'Had any one left his dormitory during the night?' he
+asked. Perhaps I ought to have spoken then; but I let the chance go."
+
+"And Parfitt did not speak?"
+
+"No; but I can see plainly enough now that it wasn't out of any kindness
+to me. He kept quiet so that he should hold the secret over me like a
+whip. He gave me the first taste of the thong just now, and--and--it
+cuts into a fellow."
+
+Stanley could see the pain in Paul's face, as though he could feel the
+thong descending upon his shoulders at that moment. He, too, could feel
+something of the same pain. His head fell to his breast. He blamed
+himself for having been the cause of all this misery. But suddenly he
+looked up again, and his face brightened.
+
+"The game's ours!" he cried.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"You twitted me just now about forgetting things, but we've both
+forgotten something--Weevil and Zuker. You've forgotten what you saw in
+the master's room when you came to me last night."
+
+"Supposing I had; how does that help?"
+
+"Cannot you see?" went on Stanley, quite excited. "Let's put our heads
+together for a moment and work it out. Supposing you go to Weevil and
+tell him straight out that you weren't in your dorm last night, but with
+me. He contradicts you point-blank. 'You could not have been with
+Moncrief, because I looked in at his dormitory at midnight and saw that
+no one else was there.' Then you bring forward your next piece, and cry,
+'I think I can prove to you, sir, that I was in Dormitory X last night.'
+'Your proof, quick!' 'My proof is that as I was passing by your room I
+happened to glance in at the window, and saw you with another
+gentleman--ahem!--looking over some papers.' Check! You have the master
+on toast, Paul. The case for the defence will be clear. Do you follow
+me?"
+
+Paul did not answer. He saw that this was one solution of the problem;
+but he was not certain that it was the best.
+
+"Well, what are you thinking about, old chap? Your face is as long as a
+fiddle."
+
+"Your suggestion is a good one, Stan," answered Paul slowly, as though
+he were still following his thoughts; "but I don't think that I'll act
+upon it--just yet."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Let's work my reasons out as you worked yours--shall we? Reason number
+one: We have cause to be suspicious of Mr. Weevil, the master in charge
+of this school during the absence of the Head. Heaven grant that our
+suspicions may be wrong, but we have reason to suppose that he is in
+league with a traitor. Am I clear, Stan?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+"Reason number two: If I told Mr. Weevil what I saw through his window
+on my way to you I might clear myself, but it would at once put him on
+his guard, and we should never have another chance of proving whether
+our suspicions are true or false. Is that clear, too?"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"Well, thirdly and lastly: Don't you think it will be better to keep
+what we know up our sleeves for the present, in view of what may come
+after?"
+
+"You're right, Paul, as you always are!" exclaimed Stanley
+enthusiastically.
+
+"No, old fellow, there is only One who is always right," answered Paul
+earnestly. "We're always patting ourselves on the back and fancying
+ourselves mighty clever; but we're not. We're asses--always slipping and
+tumbling about, and when not doing that, running down the wrong road and
+butting our stupid heads against posts or walls. Asses, all of us--some
+big, some little."
+
+"Where do you come in, Paul?" laughed Stanley.
+
+"Amongst the mediums," Paul laughed back; but as he turned towards the
+school his face grew grave again. He had tried to reason things out, but
+the way before him did not seem so clear as he could have wished. There
+were pitfalls before him, into one of which he might stumble at any
+moment. And as he thought there came to him the lines of a hymn he had
+often heard his mother sing:
+
+    "Lord, bring me to resign
+      My doubting heart to Thee;
+    And, whether cheerful or distressed,
+      Thine, Thine alone to be.
+    My only aim be this--
+      Thy purpose to fulfil,
+    In Thee rejoice with all my strength,
+      And do Thy Holy will."
+
+Entering the school, he sought out Hasluck, head of the Fifth. He was a
+quiet, studious boy, with glasses. He did not take a very prominent part
+in the sports, but none the less he was keen on the honour of his form,
+inside or outside the school.
+
+"I want you to call a meeting of the Form, Hasluck--to-night."
+
+"What about?"
+
+"A little matter between Newall, Moncrief, and me. It touches the honour
+of the Form."
+
+And Hasluck at once consented.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE FORUM
+
+
+"Meeting of the Fifth in the Forum."
+
+The whisper had travelled from form to form, and, as invariably
+happened, conjecture was busy as to what the meeting of the Fifth could
+be for.
+
+"It's a breach-of-promise case they've got on!" said Freddy Plunger
+confidentially to half a dozen members of the Third who had been
+discussing the event.
+
+"Breach of promise?" repeated Baldry. "None of your gammon, Freddy!"
+
+"Fact! Haven't you heard? One of the freshers has been making desperate
+love to the matron--giving her his portrait, with his love, and that
+sort of thing. You wouldn't wonder at it from an old stager like you,
+Baldry, or Sedgeley; but from a fresher--well, it's awful, isn't it?
+What's the school coming to--that's what I should like to know?"
+
+Harry Moncrief blushed to the roots of his hair as the boys standing
+round Plunger turned to him and tittered.
+
+"What are the damages?"
+
+"A broken topper, a pair of plaids, a white waistcoat, and spats over
+patents."
+
+More titters, and more glances in the direction of Harry. He knew well
+enough that this reference on Plunger's part was meant for him to the
+costume with which he had adorned himself on his coming to Garside.
+
+"Plunger's been crowing it over me ever since I came here. I shall have
+to take it out of him," he thought.
+
+The outburst of laughter that followed did not mend matters. So he
+hastened away, in no pleasant mood, without any regard to whither he
+was going. He came to a stop when he reached the cricketing-shed, in the
+playing-fields adjoining the school. It was this shed which was known as
+"The Forum." Here it was that the meeting of the Fifth was to be held.
+
+Harry stopped and regarded it with some interest.
+
+"Stan will be at the meeting, I suppose, and Paul Percival. Wouldn't I
+like to know what it's all about!"
+
+He had an uncomfortable feeling that things weren't going quite smoothly
+with his cousin and Paul Percival. Bit by bit the glamour with which he
+had viewed the school was wearing off. He no longer regarded it through
+rose-coloured glasses. Plunger had lorded it over him and made fun of
+him; his cousin and Paul, whom he had expected to find on the same
+footing as himself, might have been in a different world, so great was
+the difference between the upper and lower forms.
+
+The dormitory, to which he had looked forward with still greater
+pleasure, had proved a delusion and a snare. Often, in the bitterness of
+his experience in the dormitory, had he wished himself back in his warm
+and comfortable bed at home. He did not see--did not understand that the
+trials upon which he was entering were just those which were moulding
+him for the future. They were to test and try him, as they had tested
+and tried many others before him.
+
+Some of you who read this may be going through the same experience as
+Harry Moncrief. Remember, rough as the experience may be, it goes to
+make the man in you, and it depends upon you whether you come from these
+trials dross or pure gold.
+
+By the side of the shed where Harry was standing there was a window,
+thick with dust. Harry tried to look through the window, but, failing in
+this, his forefinger went idly to work on the dust. Bit by bit he traced
+out a face and head, almost without knowing it, for he had been thinking
+of the meeting that was to take place in the shed rather than of his
+sketch.
+
+"My, it isn't at all bad!" he cried, standing back a pace and admiring
+his handiwork when he had finished it. "If I'd really tried, I couldn't
+have done it so well. Perhaps the nose doesn't stick up enough, but it's
+got the right cut about it."
+
+Harry was about to rub out the sketch, when he paused, as though
+reluctant to rub out such a masterpiece.
+
+"'Pon my word, it's rather good! I wonder if anybody would know who it's
+meant for? I don't suppose anybody will. I've a jolly good mind to leave
+it!"
+
+He pronounced the last words with emphasis, turned on his heels, and
+walked away.
+
+Now it so happened that after Plunger and his companions had enjoyed
+their laugh at the expense of Harry, their attention went back again to
+the one absorbing topic of conversation--the meeting of the Fifth.
+
+"Shouldn't I like to be there!" said Plunger, his curiosity growing as
+the time for the meeting advanced. "I would like to know what's in the
+wind! Is it about the Black Book, I wonder?"
+
+"What's that to do with the Fifth any more than the rest of us?"
+remarked Sedgeley.
+
+"Oh, the Fifth always put a lot of side on, and like to cock it over
+us!" retorted Plunger.
+
+"You'll be just the same, Freddy, when you're sent up--if ever you are
+sent up," remarked Baldry. "Sour grapes!"
+
+"Shut up, Baldhead!" retorted Plunger hotly. "I never want to get
+amongst the Fifth bounders. It's that keeps me back. I could have got up
+in the Fourth at last exam., only I said to myself: 'No; it takes me one
+form nearer the Fifth bounders.'" He paused for a moment, then added:
+"All the same, I would like to know what they're going to gas about in
+the Forum. P'r'aps it's about us--p'r'aps they mean sitting on us a lot
+more than they do now."
+
+"P'r'aps!" repeated Sedgeley and Baldry reflectively.
+
+"I--I've a good mind to try. Why should the Fifth have it all to
+themselves? If--if I could only steal a march on them!"
+
+"If you only could, Freddy!" remarked Sedgeley encouragingly.
+
+For the next few minutes there was some whispering together, and the end
+of it was that Plunger and his companions strolled in the same direction
+as that Harry Moncrief had strolled in a quarter of an hour or so
+before.
+
+On arriving at the shed, they reconnoitred around it, uncertain as to
+whether or not anybody was within.
+
+Sedgeley happened by chance to look through--or tried to look
+through--the window on which Harry had left a specimen of his handiwork.
+
+His attention was at once arrested. He regarded the face seriously for a
+moment; then he broke into a shout of laughter.
+
+"What are you playing the silly goat for?" demanded Plunger wrathfully
+from somewhere in the rear of the shed.
+
+"Come here, Baldry, Bember, Viner!" exclaimed Sedgeley, vainly
+endeavouring to stifle his laughter.
+
+The three came hurrying up, followed by Plunger, in a violent state of
+agitation.
+
+"You'll spoil all, you braying ass, you laughing hyena, you giddy----"
+
+Then he paused, as Baldry, Bember, and Viner, after a glance at the
+pane, burst into laughter also. "What is it, you laughing
+lunatics--what----"
+
+Plunger said no more. His jaw dropped, as, following their gaze, he
+gazed in turn on the window-pane.
+
+"Jolly good likeness, isn't it, Baldry?" Sedgeley at length managed to
+remark.
+
+"My!" cried Baldry, with his hand on his side, as though he'd got a
+stitch in it. "Hold me up!"
+
+"I--I don't see what there's to laugh at," Plunger at length remarked,
+with a face as red as a turkey-cock's.
+
+"What, don't you see it, Freddy?"
+
+"See what?"
+
+"The likeness--oh, my side! Don't you know that nose--that hair. I
+should know 'em anywhere."
+
+Now, Plunger had a very characteristic nose--it was a combative nose,
+and a decided pug. So was the nose on the window-pane. Plunger's hair,
+too, was peculiar to Plunger. It was wiry, stubborn hair, with a tuft in
+front which resembled the comb of a turkey-cock. The same peculiarity
+was seen in the head on the window. And Plunger's eyebrows had a way of
+mounting to his head, as though they were anxious to get on terms of
+friendship with the tuft above. The same eccentricity was noticeable in
+the eyebrows on the window-pane.
+
+"No. I don't know 'em--not a bit. Who do you say they're meant for?"
+came in jerks from Plunger.
+
+"Who--who? Oh, dear, oh, dear! Why, they're meant for you, Freddy! It's
+awfully funny, isn't it? I didn't know that your face was so comical!"
+
+Plunger shrugged his shoulders, and affected indifference. He wasn't a
+bit like that caricature. It was only Sedgeley pretended to see the
+likeness, and made the other fellows see it with his eyes. At the same
+time he put out his hand to rub out the sketch. Sedgeley stopped him.
+
+"If it isn't meant for you, Freddy, we may as well see who it is meant
+for."
+
+"Just as you like," answered Plunger, in his most indifferent tone.
+
+Having assured themselves that there was no one inside, three of the
+conspirators--Sedgeley, Baldry, and Plunger--entered the shed. A quarter
+of an hour elapsed, then the door opened; but, instead of the three
+figures that entered, only two came out--Sedgeley and Baldry. All was
+silent within. Plunger had disappeared as completely as though he had
+dropped through the earth.
+
+"All serene?" queried Bember, as the two made their appearance.
+
+"All serene!" came the answer.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At seven o'clock the Fifth Form began to put in an appearance at the
+shed. Arbery and Leveson were two of the first. They lit a candle, and
+stuck it in a tin candle-stick. Then they rolled out one of the boxes
+that were piled up at the back, placed it lengthwise, so as to form a
+rostrum, and covered it with a baize cloth. On the top of this they
+placed a wooden mallet, used for knocking in the stumps in the
+cricketing season.
+
+"Sounds all right," said Leveson, giving the mallet a flourish over his
+head, and bringing it down sharply on top of the box. "Order--order for
+the chair!"
+
+Down it came a second time.
+
+"Friends, Romans, and Countrymen----"
+
+"Drop the cackle, Levy," shouted Arbery, "and give me a hand."
+
+He was pulling out some of the boxes, and Leveson lent him a hand to
+arrange them as seats. It so happened that in one of the most
+dilapidated of these boxes, which had rested for weeks in the darkest
+corner of the shed, Frederick Plunger, Esq. was reposing. It had been
+selected as the most suitable hiding-place by the conspirators. It was
+large and commodious, and there were so many cracks and crannies in the
+worm-eaten, dilapidated lid that there was ample breathing space within.
+
+In this safe hiding-place Plunger had flattered himself that he would be
+able to know all that passed at the meeting of the Fifth. He had not
+calculated on the box being shifted from its dusty, cob-webbed corner.
+But more by chance than design Arbery laid profane hands on it, and
+dragging it out with the rest, turned it over and over, something after
+the style of a porter with the luggage at a railway terminus in the busy
+season.
+
+Bumpety--bumpety! It seemed to Plunger, so far as he had any sensation
+at all, that he was performing the part of a human catherine-wheel.
+
+"My!" he gasped. "What are the asses doing with the box? I shall be most
+frightfully sick if they don't stop it."
+
+Bumpety--bumpety--bumpety!
+
+"Oh, oh! What an idiot I was to get inside this coffin; it'll be the
+death of me!"
+
+Arbery and Leveson gave another jerk to the box even as Plunger was
+groaning within.
+
+"It--it--it's worse than being on the Great Wheel, or on a pleasure boat
+when there's a sea on. Oh, my--oh dear! When are the silly fellows going
+to stop it?" he moaned.
+
+At last they did stop it, almost beneath the identical window on which
+Moncrief minor had traced Plunger's noble features.
+
+"That's about the ticket, isn't it, Arbery? My, it's hot work! Didn't
+think that old box was so heavy. You'd fancy it was stuffed with lead
+instead of broken bats and rubbish of that sort. Phew!"
+
+Leveson wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.
+
+"Yes; that's the thing. It'll give an extra seat or two, if they're
+wanted."
+
+"My word! They're going to sit on me," groaned Plunger. His groans were
+cut short by a loud outburst of laughter from Arbery.
+
+"What's the lunatic laughing at now?" thought Plunger.
+
+"Hold me up, Levy!" Arbery in rising from the box had caught sight of
+the caricature of Plunger on the window, and burst into a fit of
+laughter. "Do you see it--do you see who it's meant for?"
+
+Leveson, for answer, likewise broke into a peal of laughter.
+
+"The other lunatic's going it now," Plunger muttered to himself. "Seems
+to me I've hopped into an asylum instead of a box. There's a screw loose
+in one of 'em. My! Aren't they going it. Wish I could get a peep out of
+this beastly timber yard. I'd like to see what they're grinning at. Hark
+at 'em. They're off again."
+
+At last Leveson stopped.
+
+"See it," he cried. "Who could help it? Jolly good, isn't it? Like the
+young bounder to a T--the same nose, the same coarse wiry thatch, the
+same eyebrows running away from the forehead into the middle of next
+week."
+
+The perspiration began to ooze from Plunger. He had an uneasy feeling as
+to whom they were referring.
+
+"Young bounder!" he repeated. "Coarse, wiry thatch, eyebrows running
+away from the forehead. Leveson thinks that awfully smart, I s'pose?
+Still it--it--must be a bit like."
+
+Plunger had the additional pleasure of hearing more laughter at his
+expense as other scholars of the Fifth entered, and added their
+criticisms to Leveson's. Plunger's ears tingled as they had never
+tingled before, for never before had he heard himself so freely
+criticised. In addition to the not very flattering remarks "the bounders
+of the Fifth" had to pass on his features, Plunger had to listen to
+terse descriptions of himself as "that ass, Plunger," "a mixed pickle,"
+"a queer egg," "conceited young biped," and so on.
+
+Plunger made remarks of his own as these pleasant criticisms reached his
+ears. They were scarcely less vigorous than those descriptive of
+himself, and were fairly divided between "those bounders of the Fifth"
+and "the fellow who had scratched things" on the window. But
+unfortunately Plunger's eloquence was wasted, as neither the "bounders
+of the Fifth" nor "the fellow who scratched things on the window" had
+the advantage of hearing it. His attention was soon turned from himself,
+however, to the proceedings that were taking place in the shed.
+
+There were about twenty in the Fifth. Nineteen put in an appearance.
+Hasluck, as head of the Form, took up his place at the rostrum, while
+most of the others sat on the boxes which had been arranged for their
+convenience by Arbery and Leveson, who were known as M.C.'s--masters of
+ceremonies--of the Form.
+
+"All here?" asked Hasluck, after bringing down his mallet on the box
+before him.
+
+"All--except Moncrief," answered Leveson.
+
+The absence of Moncrief had been noticed with some surprise by the Form,
+by none more than Newall.
+
+"Is he coming, does any one know? If so, we'll wait a little longer."
+
+"No; he isn't coming," answered Paul. "He wanted to; but I persuaded him
+to stop away."
+
+"You persuaded him to stop away," cried Newall. "Why, it's because of
+him we've come here."
+
+"Excuse me," answered Paul politely. "It's because of me. At any rate,
+it's for the Form to decide."
+
+"Percival called the Form together. It's for Percival to explain," said
+Hasluck.
+
+"I'll explain as well as I can," said Paul, taking a step forward, and
+glancing round at the faces bent eagerly forward to hear him. "There was
+a slight shindy, as you all know, on the first day of term, between
+Newall and Stanley Moncrief."
+
+"Shindy!" interrupted Newall with a scornful sniff. "Is that all you
+call it?"
+
+"Call it by what name you please; I don't mind," proceeded Paul calmly.
+"Newall baited Moncrief's cousin unmercifully, and Moncrief did what any
+other fellow in the Form worth his salt would have done--interfered. I
+tried to get between him and Newall to stop the quarrel. You know what
+happened--Newall was struck."
+
+"Yes, Newall was struck," repeated Newall grimly.
+
+"Yes; but after all Moncrief had a good deal the worst of it. He passed
+the night in Dormitory X--ten times worse punishment than anything
+Newall got; so he more than wiped out the blow he gave in anger to
+Newall."
+
+"Oh, stop this humbug," interrupted Newall angrily. "You can see what
+Percival's up to. He's trying to white-wash Moncrief, who's too big a
+funk to come here to defend himself."
+
+There were murmurs of assent from some of those present, who resented
+Moncrief's absence, and who were not favourably inclined to a tame
+ending of the quarrel. The more thoughtful section remained silent.
+
+"It would have been better, I think, for Moncrief to have been here,"
+said Hasluck. And this view was received with applause.
+
+"If there's any blame for that," said Paul quickly, "blame me. As I've
+said, I persuaded him to stay away. With Moncrief here and Newall here,
+it would have been like two barrels of gunpowder. Just a spark,
+and--phwitt! bang--where should we all have been? There'd have been
+nothing left of us."
+
+This time Paul carried his audience with him. They were well aware that
+Moncrief was hasty in temper, and that Newall was no less fiery. So they
+smiled at Paul's description of what might probably have happened if the
+two had been present.
+
+"Besides, as I've already pointed out to Newall," continued Paul, "if
+there's a quarrel at all, it lies between me and him."
+
+"Stuff--gammon--more humbug!" interrupted Newall angrily.
+
+"That's what you think," said Paul, confronting him steadily for a
+moment. "After all, you only count as one. That's why I've called the
+Form, who count a good deal more, so that they could give their opinion.
+Whatever their opinion is, I'll stand to it."
+
+"You will!" cried Newall. "That's all I want. I know well enough they
+won't let Moncrief wriggle out of it."
+
+"How do you make out that the quarrel has shifted from Moncrief to you,
+Percival?" demanded Hasluck. "I can't quite see it."
+
+More murmurs of assent.
+
+"I think you will when I've finished," said Paul confidently. "Newall
+doesn't see it, naturally, but I think you will. This is how things
+stand. Newall made me believe that he was sorry for the quarrel that had
+taken place between him and Moncrief. On that I tried to do the right
+thing. I got Moncrief to go up to him and offer him his hand. I was
+never more disgusted in my life. Newall pretended not to see it, and
+said insulting things, which I need not repeat. What I say is, that when
+he refused to take Moncrief's hand, he insulted me more than he insulted
+Moncrief; for it was I who brought Moncrief to him, and it was through
+me Moncrief offered him his hand. That is the first point I wish the
+Form to decide."
+
+Paul spoke so earnestly that he carried the Form with him. It appealed
+to their sense of chivalry. Percival had tried to make peace between
+Newall and Moncrief. Failing that, he had turned the quarrel from his
+friend's shoulders to his own.
+
+First one, then the other, supported Paul, and though there was a small
+minority against him, there was no question as to the majority.
+
+"We think Percival right," said Hasluck--an announcement which was
+received with cheers.
+
+"That only means that the quarrel is between me and Percival," said
+Newall grimly. "I've no objection. I'm not going to kick against the
+decision of the Form." Then, turning to Paul: "You've got to pay me back
+the blow I had from Moncrief. P'raps the Form 'll decide when it's to
+be."
+
+"You mean fighting?"
+
+"What else should I mean?"
+
+"I don't. We don't want to waste our energies that way when there's a
+much better way and better work to do."
+
+"Trying to crawl out of it again," came in a sneering aside from
+Parfitt. "Was there ever such a wriggler?"
+
+"Let's hear the better way," said Hasluck; and there were many others in
+the Form, in spite of the sneering remark of Parfitt, who were equally
+anxious to hear what "the better way" could be.
+
+"There's a shadow resting upon the school--resting upon every one of
+us," said Paul solemnly.
+
+"What shadow are you talking about?" asked Hasluck.
+
+"The leaves from the Black Book--the stolen papers from Mr. Weevil's
+desk," said Paul. "Until the thief is found out, suspicion rests upon
+every boy in the Form--upon every boy in the school. What I suggest is,
+that we leave off fighting till we've found out who the thief is. I
+don't want to preach, but I think that will be a great deal more to our
+honour and the honour of our school."
+
+Paul paused. "If Parfitt has anything to accuse me of, now will be his
+time," he thought.
+
+He had not to wait long. Parfitt did speak, but scarcely in the way he
+had anticipated.
+
+"Honour of the school!" he cried. "Anybody would think that Percival's
+the only one who cares for it. Let him take care of his own honour
+first, and the honour of the school will take care of itself."
+
+Parfitt's pointed remark was loudly applauded. Paul saw that he was
+likely to be defeated unless he could make a stronger appeal to the
+sympathies of the Form.
+
+"I don't know that my honour's questioned," he answered promptly. "Who
+questions it?"
+
+"I do," retorted Parfitt.
+
+"And I," added Newall.
+
+Before Paul could answer, there was a knock on the door of the shed. It
+so startled Devey--a heavy, thick-set boy--that he over-balanced himself,
+and came with a crash on the box in which Plunger was hidden. Plunger
+had been so interested in the proceedings of the Fifth that he had
+lifted the lid in the slightest possible degree so that he might the
+better hear what was going on. When Devey came crashing on the box,
+Plunger thought for the moment that his head had gone from his
+shoulders. And then as Devey, not quite recovered from his fall,
+continued to sit upon the lid, he thought he would be suffocated.
+
+Meanwhile Leveson went to the door, and demanded: "Who's there?"
+
+"A Beetle," came the answer.
+
+"A Beetle! What does he want?"
+
+"He's got a challenge for the Fifth."
+
+"A challenge for the Fifth! Oh, very kind of him!" Then, turning to
+Hasluck, "Shall I let him in?"
+
+"Rather. Let's hear what the sport is."
+
+Thereupon Leveson opened the door. Three boys were standing without--two
+of them belonging to the school, and the third, who stood between them,
+one of the much-despised Beetles--in other words, a pupil of the rival
+school at St. Bede's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A CHALLENGE FROM ST. BEDE'S
+
+
+The two boys who entered with the "Beetle" were Baldry and Sedgefield,
+the companions of Plunger. The Beetle was a sturdy, but rather
+heavy-featured, boy of fourteen. He wore the St. Bede's cap--dark cloth
+with a white shield in front, on which were worked in old English
+letters, "St. B.," while beneath these were three Roman capitals--"S. S.
+V.," the initials of the school motto, "Suis stet viribus"--"He stands
+on his merit."
+
+"Why, it's Mellor," came the cry, so soon as the face of the boy from
+St. Bede's could be clearly seen.
+
+Yes, it was Mellor, till recently a pupil at Garside, and formerly an
+occupant of the dormitory in which Harry Moncrief, Baldry and the others
+slept. He had left Garside last term, and, much to the disgust of his
+former associates, had entered as a pupil of St. Bede's. The fact was
+that it was not so much Mellor's work as his father's. Mellor was good
+at sport, but not quite as keen on learning, so that he had remained for
+two years in the same form along with boys who were much younger than
+himself. Mellor, of course, put it down to the school, and not to any
+lack of diligence on his part. His father fell in with the view of his
+son, believing him to be a "clever boy--unmistakably clever"--if the
+cleverness were only brought out. In the hope that this cleverness would
+be brought out, he had been taken from Garside and turned over to St.
+Bede's.
+
+Now the conversion of a "Gargoyle" into a "Beetle" was not an easy
+process. He had to fit himself into new surroundings, new conditions,
+new methods, with new companions. And while these new companions had
+given him a cool reception, his old companions, thinking him fair game
+for ridicule and sport now that he had "gone over to the enemy," had
+determined on giving him a warm reception at the first opportunity.
+
+It so happened that on the third day of Mellor's entrance at St. Bede's
+he chanced to meet Parfitt and a couple of companions of his in the
+Fifth. They had promptly seized on Mellor, and after congratulating him
+with mock gravity on rising to the "dignity of a Beetle," had ended by
+making him crawl on all fours "as a Beetle ought," and, using his back
+as a desk, had finally written this note on a slip of paper--"Beetle,
+otherwise cockroach--nocturnal insect, concealing itself in holes during
+the day, and crawling off at the approach of light."
+
+This flattering description they had pinned to Mellor's back, with an
+intimation that he was to crawl back to his brother Beetles as quickly
+as possible or he would be "squashed before he could get to his hole
+again." Mellor, smarting under these indignities, had hastened back to
+St. Bede's and placed the note in the hands of one of the boys belonging
+to the corresponding form to that of his tormentors.
+
+The Fifth had duly considered it, and a day later had despatched an
+answer with Mellor. And this was the answer: "Gargoyle, otherwise
+spout--receiving things that come from gutters. Meant to frighten people
+by making ugly faces. Good for little else. If the Fifth Form has one
+Gargoyle of any pluck amongst them, he will find a Fifth Form Beetle
+ready to meet him at the sand-pit, Cranstead Common, to-morrow
+afternoon, three sharp."
+
+"It's a challenge," said Hasluck.
+
+"Read it out," came in a chorus.
+
+And Hasluck read it out.
+
+"Don't you think you've got a lot of cheek to bring a note like that,
+Mellor," remarked Arbery when Hasluck had finished.
+
+"Not half as much as Parfitt had in writing the one he sent by me,"
+retorted Mellor indignantly.
+
+"What does it feel like, being a Beetle?" asked Leveson politely.
+"Kitchen stuff's fattening, isn't it?"
+
+"After going about on all fours, don't you find it a bit tricky to stand
+on your hind legs again?" remarked Arbery. "Want a balancing-pole, don't
+you?"
+
+Before Mellor could reply, a mysterious gurgling sound came from the
+direction in which Devey was standing.
+
+"Hallo, Devey, what's wrong?" demanded Hasluck, as every eye turned in
+his direction.
+
+"Wrong? Nothing wrong! What do you mean?" retorted Devey, quite blushing
+at thus suddenly becoming the object of general attention.
+
+"Thought you were trying to laugh. Never heard such a screech. Like a
+laughing hyena with the toothache. Don't do it again, there's a good
+chap. It'll get on our nerves."
+
+"I haven't done anything, I tell you," exclaimed the indignant Devey. "I
+didn't laugh."
+
+"It came from your corner. It must have been some of those youngsters of
+the Third eavesdropping outside. Chase 'em away a bit, Arbery."
+
+Arbery, accompanied by Leveson, darted out with the object of giving the
+"youngsters of the Third" a bad time, but after searching around the
+shed, could find no sign of their presence.
+
+"They must have scooted before we could get to them," reported Arbery on
+his return to the shed. "I can guess pretty well who it was--Plunger and
+his set."
+
+Again that sound from Devey's corner which Hasluck had described as "a
+laughing hyena with the toothache"; and again all eyes went to Devey.
+
+"Well, what the dickens are you staring at?" Devey indignantly demanded,
+when he thought that he had borne this scrutiny with enough patience.
+
+"Beetles are bad enough, Devey, without paroquets," remarked Hasluck
+reproachfully. "If you feel bad, you'd better go out. We'll excuse you."
+
+"It's not me, I tell you. I didn't laugh. It came from outside, or the
+roof, or--or somewhere," protested Devey.
+
+Arbery and Leveson darted out again, with the same result as before. But
+they saw shadows in the distance which they believed to be some of their
+tormentors, and it was decided that they should take up a position
+close to the door, and at once dart out if the sound were repeated.
+
+Devey was, of course, perfectly truthful when he had denied making the
+curious sound which had so startled his companions. Nor had it come from
+the "youngsters of the Third" outside. It came, as the reader has
+guessed, from the box in which Mr. Freddy Plunger was reposing. At
+first, when the heavy weight of Devey had rested on the box, he thought
+that he would have been suffocated. But when, in the excitement caused
+by the unexpected entrance of Mellor with his challenge from St. Bede's,
+Devey had risen with the other fellows, and remained standing, Plunger
+breathed more freely, and began to feel quite light-hearted again.
+
+He felt just as excited as any of those outside at what was happening
+and entered just as thoroughly into the scene, so that when Leveson and
+Arbery began to question Mellor about the peculiarities of "a Beetle,"
+he felt that he must laugh or choke. The result was the curious noise
+which had been put down first to Devey, then to the boys outside. No one
+guessed for a moment that it came from the box before which Devey was
+standing. When the stir caused by this incident had subsided, attention
+was once more turned to Mellor.
+
+"Well, Mellor, you haven't answered our questions yet," said Parfitt,
+taking up the fire. "What does it feel like to be a Beetle?"
+
+Mellor flamed up the instant Parfitt spoke. It was Parfitt who had set
+upon him and badgered him, and written the note which had stirred up so
+much feeling at St. Bede's against Garside.
+
+"You're a cad and a coward!" he cried hotly. "I don't want to answer you
+or speak to you either."
+
+Parfitt, stung by the boy's words, moved towards him to clutch him by
+the ear. But Paul was quicker, and stood between them.
+
+"Hands off, Parfitt! Mellor's here as a messenger from the Fifth of St.
+Bede's to us, the Fifth of Garside. Don't drag us in the mud! Let's be
+fair! They've sent us a challenge. Let's be polite enough to answer
+it."
+
+"Interfering again," sneered Parfitt. "Always poking your nose where it
+isn't wanted!"
+
+"Don't get waxy, Parfitt," remonstrated Hasluck. "Percival's quite
+right. It isn't nice perhaps to know that one of our fellows has gone
+over to the Beetles, but there it is. It can't be helped. What's done
+can't very well be undone. Let's be fair, and let's be polite. There,
+I'm with Percival, and so, I think, are the rest of you." ("Hear, hear,
+hear," from the rest, with the exception of Parfitt, who felt rather
+small.) "Shall we send an answer?"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"I knew well enough you'd say 'Yes.' Well, the next point is, what's the
+answer to be?"
+
+"I think there can be only one answer," exclaimed Newall, speaking for
+the first time. "The Fifth Form Gargoyle is quite ready to meet the
+Fifth Form Beetle at the sand-pit, Cranstead Common, to-morrow
+afternoon, three sharp."
+
+At once a cheer broke out in favour of Newall's suggestion.
+
+"As Parfitt wrote the elegant little note which has brought this storm
+upon us, he'd better write the answer," said Hasluck.
+
+This suggestion also met with general approval. Parfitt hesitated, but
+at length wrote the note as dictated by Newall. Hasluck read it out.
+
+"Will it do?" he questioned when he had finished.
+
+"Agreed, agreed!" was the answering shout. Paul alone remained silent.
+His face was unusually grave. He had come there on a peaceful mission,
+and the peaceful mission had ended in a declaration of war.
+
+"There you are, Mellor; take that and give it to your brother Beetles,
+with the compliments and best wishes of the Fifth," he said, as he
+folded up the note and handed it to Mellor. "Now cut!"
+
+"Cut isn't the word," said Arbery, as he opened the door. "Crawl!"
+
+Mellor darted out of the shed with the note, without waiting for any
+further references to the new title conferred upon him.
+
+"Won't you eat your words in the sand-pit to-morrow!" he cried as a
+parting shot.
+
+"The cheeky beggar got the last word in anyhow," quoth Arbery as he
+closed the door.
+
+Dead silence followed for a minute or two, then it was broken by
+Hasluck.
+
+"You called us here, Percival," he said, turning to Paul, "to talk over
+the triangular squabble between you and Moncrief and Newall. You don't
+mind us putting that off for a bit? This is the thing we've got to
+settle, this cheeky challenge from the Beetles."
+
+Paul, seeing there was no help for it, nodded assent.
+
+"And you, Newall?"
+
+Newall nodded in turn.
+
+"Good! Well, then, having decided to take up the challenge from St.
+Bede's, the next thing to settle is, who's to be our champion at the
+sand-pit to-morrow?"
+
+No one seemed in a great hurry to answer that question, but at length
+Newall, a curious smile hovering about his lips, said:
+
+"We're all of us anxious for the job, that's the reason we're so silent.
+But I'd like to propose one as our champion who'd do us
+credit--Percival."
+
+Had a thunderbolt fallen in the shed, the boys of the Fifth could not
+have been more startled than when they heard Paul's name. Was Newall in
+earnest, or was he poking fun? It was hard to tell, for the curious
+smile that had hovered about his lips was there no longer. It had quite
+vanished, and his face was the gravest amongst them.
+
+"Percival!" he repeated with emphasis. "He's done me a lot of honour.
+He's done me the honour of calling you fellows together to settle a
+quarrel between Moncrief and me. He's done me honour in the nice things
+he has said of me. Well, I'd like to do him a little in turn. There
+can't be a greater honour than representing the Fifth as champion of the
+Form. It's one that I'd jump at myself, but after what has taken place,
+after all that Percival has said about the honour of the Form, I can
+only take a back seat. He comes first. So I again say, let Percival be
+our champion."
+
+Notwithstanding that Paul had rarely been seen in a school fight, it was
+well known amongst his companions that he was a fine athlete and
+perfectly able to take care of himself, so with ready shouts they hailed
+the suggestion.
+
+"Percival, Percival, Percival!" resounded on all sides.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE CHAMPION OF HIS FORM
+
+
+Paul, as may be imagined, was as much startled by Newall's proposal that
+he should be the champion of the Form as at the readiness with which it
+was taken up by his class-mates.
+
+"Well, Percival"--the voice of Hasluck broke the silence which had
+followed as they waited eagerly Paul's answer--"you've heard what Newall
+has said, and what the Form thinks of it. What's your answer?"
+
+A keen struggle went on in Paul's mind as the question came to him. He
+had come there to settle a dispute--to ward off a meeting between
+Moncrief and Newall. And now, by an adroit move on the latter's part, he
+had been forced to accept or decline a challenge from outside. If he
+refused, he would have to eat his own words about the honour of the
+school; he would be regarded as a contemptible coward; and the quarrel
+between Newall and Moncrief would still remain unsettled. If he
+accepted, he would be held in honour by his Form, and, in fighting its
+battle, he might be able to settle the quarrel between Moncrief and
+Newall. So, coming to a swift decision, he turned to the latter:
+
+"If I fight for the Form, will that settle the quarrel between you and
+Moncrief? Will you shake hands with him?"
+
+"Yes," came the prompt answer.
+
+"Very well; then I'll do my best to keep up the honour of the Form at
+the sand-pit to-morrow."
+
+"Bravo--bravo; hip, hip, hurrah!" cried Devey, jumping on the box in
+which Plunger was concealed, and waving his cap wildly.
+
+The cheers were taken up by most of the Form, but Parfitt, who took no
+part in the cheering, remarked, loud enough for all to hear:
+
+"Seems to me we'd better save our shouting till to-morrow afternoon."
+
+"For once I agree with Parfitt," answered Paul calmly. "Keep your
+shouting till to-morrow afternoon."
+
+"And even then it may all be on the other side," added Parfitt, with a
+sneer.
+
+"Trust Parfitt for throwing cold water on anything," said Devey, jumping
+down from the box. "He must have been born in a refrigerator."
+
+He gave the box an indignant kick. Plunger shivered. He was glad that
+Devey's foot came on the box instead of on him.
+
+The meeting was over, and the boys went in twos and threes from the shed
+discussing the forthcoming battle in the sand-pit. Plunger, greatly
+excited at all he had heard, was waiting eagerly the moment he could
+emerge from his hiding-place, when he heard Arbery shout:
+
+"Don't all run off without lending a hand. We shall have to get the
+boxes back, and the shed ship-shape. Devey and I can't do all the work."
+
+Plunger groaned. He knew what Arbery's appeal meant. One by one the
+boxes were shifted back to their places; then it came to the turn of the
+box in which Plunger was concealed, and once again he was bumped about
+from side to side till he got painfully mixed ideas as to where he began
+and where he ended--as to which was his head and which were his feet,
+and whether he would ever be able to stand straight again.
+
+At last the box was rolled back to the corner in which it had previously
+reposed, and Arbery and his assistants followed in the footsteps of
+their companions. When Plunger could gather together his scattered
+senses, he raised the lid of the box and scrambled out.
+
+"My!" he groaned, as he leaned against the side of the shed and felt his
+limbs. "Seems to me I'm all bruises. It's a wonder I've come out alive.
+I'd just like to put the fellow who's been putting my frontispiece on
+that pane inside the box I've come from for half an hour!"
+
+Gradually, however, the worried look on Plunger's face gave place to one
+of satisfaction as he remembered that he was the only one outside the
+Fifth who knew what had taken place at the meeting, and that he alone
+knew what was to take place on the morrow. He had no chance of relating
+to his companions the secret which was burning within him till he
+reached the dormitory that night.
+
+"Well," asked Baldry breathlessly, as soon as lights were out, "how did
+you get on, Freddy? What happened?"
+
+"You'd never guess. There's to be a fight to-morrow between one of the
+Fifth fellows and a Beetle."
+
+Every ear in the dormitory pricked up at this unexpected piece of
+information.
+
+"Who's our fellow?" demanded Sedgefield, breaking the silence which
+followed this announcement.
+
+"Percival."
+
+Baldry gave a prolonged whistle of surprise.
+
+"How's that? Why, Percival has always set his back against fighting, and
+all the fellows are saying that it was to keep Moncrief major from
+fighting Newall that he called a meeting of his form."
+
+"I dare say. He seemed to be steering that way till that little
+turncoat, Mellor, came on the scene with a challenge from the Beetles."
+
+"A challenge from the Beetles!" cried Baldry. "Tell us all about it."
+
+Plunger told them all about it. And never had any one more attentive
+listeners than Plunger had as he related to them all that had happened
+at the meeting in the shed. Not the least interested were Harry Moncrief
+and Hibbert.
+
+"Paul going to fight," Harry repeated to himself. "I do so hope he'll
+win!" Then, remembering the words in which his father had once spoken of
+Paul, he added: "Win or lose, I'm certain Paul will bear himself
+bravely."
+
+Hibbert closed his eyes in the darkness, and prayed: "Watch over
+Percival--keep him from harm. For Christ's sake. Amen."
+
+The boy had not forgotten Paul's kindness to him. It stood out as the
+one bright spot in his memory since he had come to Garside. For once he
+was allowed to sleep without pillows being thrown at him, the clothes
+pulled from him by means of a carefully-arranged cord, and playful
+tricks of that sort, of which both he and Harry had been the victims as
+the latest recruits to the dormitory. The great event of the morrow
+caused everything else to be forgotten.
+
+Paul, meantime, had not had a very pleasant time of it. It had been with
+the greatest difficulty he had induced Stanley to stay away from the
+meeting of his form. After the meeting, one or two pointed allusions
+were made to his absence by his class-mates, and to make these cut the
+deeper, he overheard Parfitt say to Devey:
+
+"You were quite right in shouting for Percival. He came out better than
+I thought. It's the other fellow who's so contemptible--getting his
+friend to call a meeting to white-wash him, and do all the dirty work.
+He'd be hounded out of any decent school."
+
+These remarks were made loud enough for Stanley to hear, and for his
+special benefit. Though he knew well enough that he was "the other
+fellow" referred to, he could not speak. Nevertheless, he felt angry
+with himself for allowing Paul to persuade him to stay away from the
+meeting. Then, from feeling angry with himself, he felt angry with Paul,
+and the reception he gave him on his return was not a very cordial one.
+
+"What have you been saying about me?" he demanded.
+
+"Nothing that could harm you," smiled Paul. "It's all right between you
+and Newall. The quarrel's settled."
+
+"But how is it settled? You haven't made me swallow dirt, have you?"
+
+"I think not," answered Paul, wounded at the suggestion. "You ought to
+know me better than that."
+
+For the first time there was a rift between the two friends. Paul did
+not tell Stanley what had happened at the meeting, but left him to find
+out. He heard all about it from Waterman--the easy-going, indolent
+Waterman.
+
+"Going to fight a Beetle, is he?" said Stanley, when Waterman had ended.
+"It was good of him to take my part, but I wish he hadn't let me down
+so."
+
+But when he met Paul in the dormitory that night, he only remembered
+that he was his friend, and that he was going to fight for the honour of
+the Form on the morrow.
+
+"I'm sorry I spoke so hastily, Paul," he whispered. "Forgive me."
+
+The next afternoon was a holiday for both Garside and St. Bede's. It was
+for this reason that the challenge had been fixed for that date.
+Cranstead Common was midway between the two schools, and the sand-pit
+was in an open part of the common, where the ground for some little
+distance round was destitute of grass or furze.
+
+The Fifth Form had kept to themselves the fact that an encounter was to
+take place in the sand-pit, for fear it might reach the ear of some of
+the masters, and be stopped. They were not aware that Plunger knew all
+that had transpired at the meeting. Plunger was as loyal to his Form as
+the Fifth were to theirs, and the secret of what was to happen at the
+sand-pit was communicated in confidence to them on the distinct
+understanding that it wasn't to travel farther.
+
+When, therefore, the afternoon came, and the boys of the Fifth set out
+in little parties of three or four to make for the sand-pit, they could
+not understand how it was that little parties of the Third were found to
+be travelling in the same direction. Still more curious were the various
+articles borne by these little bands of stragglers. One group bore a
+football; another shouldered a butterfly net, without regard to the fact
+that butterflies had not been seen for many weeks; a third group
+fishing-rods, and so on.
+
+Freddy Plunger was amongst the anglers. He was talking loudly about his
+achievements at different times with rod and line, when Devey, Arbery,
+and Leveson came up with him.
+
+"What are you fishing for, Plunger?" asked Devey, catching him gently by
+the ear. "Whales?"
+
+"No--eels!" retorted Plunger snappily, having good cause to remember
+Devey the night before. "Slippery things, eels, aren't they?"
+
+"Not half so slippery as you are, Mr. Plunger. But don't be cheeky."
+
+"Never am, Mr. Devey. That's my fault--always too polite. Born like it,
+so can't help myself. Where are you going to, Mr. Devey?"
+
+"That's my business, Mr. Plunger. Little boys shouldn't ask
+questions--they should be seen and not heard. If you have a good catch,
+ask us to supper, won't you? Ta-ta, Plunger!"
+
+And Devey and his companions went on, leaving Plunger and his companions
+chuckling in their sleeves.
+
+"Mr. Devey thinks himself mighty clever now, but he looked an awful ass
+in the shed last night when all the fellows turned on him for laughing
+like a paroquet," grinned Plunger. "I nearly killed myself trying to
+keep my feelings under. It was enough to make a cat scream. Oh, dear;
+oh, my!"
+
+And Plunger went off at the recollection, till he received a dig in the
+ribs from Baldry which made him gasp.
+
+"Shut up, Freddy; here comes the noble champion of the Fifth! He doesn't
+look over-pleased with himself."
+
+As he spoke, Paul and Stanley passed them. Baldry was not far wrong.
+Paul was far from pleased with himself. He was going to fight in cold
+blood a boy with whom he personally had no quarrel, and he had not the
+slightest notion who his opponent was. He might be a noble-hearted
+fellow, as much averse to quarrelling and fighting as he was, but
+compelled to fight--as he had been--for "the honour of the Form."
+He--Paul--had faced danger, and had not shrunk from it; but somehow, he
+shrunk from the encounter before him.
+
+"Look! There's quite a crowd at the sand-pit already," exclaimed
+Stanley, who was a great deal more excited at the coming encounter than
+Paul was.
+
+By this time they had come within sight of the sand-pit. Paul, looking
+up, saw that on one side had gathered most of the boys of the Fifth,
+while on the other side were the boys from St. Bede's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+WHAT HAPPENED AT THE SAND-PIT
+
+
+Though the boys of St. Bede's and those of Garside regarded themselves
+as adversaries, to their credit be it said no outbreak of temper had
+resulted from their meeting at the sand-pit. There had been some amount
+of good-humoured chaff bandied to and fro across the pit, but nothing
+more. All were eager for the coming struggle.
+
+A cheer went up from the Garsides directly they caught sight of Paul.
+The Bedes eyed him critically.
+
+"Looks grim enough--as though he meant business," said one, as Paul
+advanced to the pit.
+
+The cheer of his comrades put fresh life into Paul. His blood, which had
+seemed stagnant, began to race through his veins.
+
+"For the honour of the Form," he said to himself, between his clenched
+teeth, "I must--I will win!"
+
+As though his comrades wished to give him all the encouragement in their
+power, another cheer went up as he entered the pit, and took up his
+position on the floor of hard-pressed sand below.
+
+"Where's the other fellow?" he asked.
+
+"Doesn't seem to have turned up yet," said Arbery; "but I don't think
+it's quite time. How goes it, Levy?"
+
+Leveson had a stop-watch and was very proud of it. He usually acted as
+timekeeper at the school sports, when the stop-watch was very much to
+the fore. He prided himself on one thing--always knowing the right time.
+His was the only watch that kept the right time at Garside--so, at
+least, Leveson said. To ask Leveson the "correct time" was one of the
+greatest compliments you could pay him. It was a tacit acknowledgment
+that the time kept by Leveson's stop-watch was superior to any other.
+
+"Three minutes eighteen seconds to three," answered Leveson, after
+examining the watch.
+
+"Oh, we'll make you a present of the seconds," said Arbery. Then he
+shouted across to the Bedes: "I say, Beetles, is that champion of yours
+coming on an ambulance?"
+
+"No; that's coming after," cried a bright-eyed lad named Sterry, from
+the other side, "to take your champion home!"
+
+A loud laugh from the Bedes greeted this retort.
+
+"He scored over you there, Arbery," said indolent Waterman.
+
+Scarcely had the laughter died away than it was followed by a loud
+cheer.
+
+"Their man's coming at last. What's the time, Levy?"
+
+"One minute thirty secs. to the hour. He's cut it rather fine--must be a
+cool sort of bounder," answered Leveson. "Hallo, look there! Hang me if
+there isn't Master Plunger and a lot of the howlers from his form."
+
+Arbery looked in the direction indicated. Plunger and his companions
+were lying at full length on the banks of the pit, peering over its
+sides and taking the deepest possible interest in the proceedings below.
+
+"So it is. How did the little beggar get to know what was going on, I
+wonder?"
+
+"Said he was going eel-fishing. Thought it was a blind," said Devey.
+"Hallo, they're peeling!"
+
+Paul had taken off his coat, and rolled back his sleeves. The champion
+of the other Form could not at first be seen because of the throng which
+had gathered round him, but presently he came from the group that
+surrounded him with his coat off, and his arms bared, just as Paul
+stepped into the ring.
+
+Their eyes met. Paul staggered back, as though he had been struck. The
+youth who stood before him was Gilbert Wyndham, he who had helped him on
+the night he was fleeing from Zuker. Fight him? Impossible! Not though
+his life depended on it!
+
+The excited murmur of voices that followed the two into the ring ceased.
+A strange silence rested on the place, as the two boys confronted each
+other. Then as the two schools were waiting eagerly for the first blow
+to be struck, they saw Paul's hands fall helpless to his side; saw the
+colour go from his face; saw the white lips move. What did it mean? They
+stared in wonder, and the wonder grew as Paul turned away and took his
+coat from Moncrief.
+
+"I cannot fight," he murmured.
+
+With his coat on his arm he hastened from the pit. Then the silence was
+broken by the Bedes. They howled, and jeered and hooted. And above the
+hooting and the jeers there rose the cry:
+
+"The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"
+
+Heedless of the shouting and the jeers, Paul walked swiftly away, as one
+seized with sudden fear. His own Form still remained silent. They might
+have been struck dumb. It was all so strange--so unexpected.
+
+Then they in turn shouted and jeered after the retreating figure.
+
+Paul heard the shouts. Those from the Bedes made him shiver. These from
+his own Form cut into him like whips.
+
+"They do not understand! How--how can I tell them?" he murmured as he
+pressed on, anxious to get away from the place as quickly as possible.
+He did not pause till he came in sight of the old flag waving above the
+school. Had he disgraced that flag--the legacy of a brave soldier? Had
+he dishonoured it? God would be his judge.
+
+He passed three or four boys as he entered the grounds. They knew
+nothing of what had happened at the sand-pit. One boy spoke to him, but
+Paul took no heed of him. He had not heard him. He was as though deaf
+and blind to all around him. He did not pause till he reached one of the
+class-rooms; then his head fell on his arms.
+
+The shouts and jeers followed him, and broke harshly in upon the
+stillness of the room. With startling distinctness he could hear them,
+and the cry went ringing through his brain:
+
+"The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"
+
+Then resting there, with his head bowed on his arms, he searched his
+conscience, and asked himself the question--"Have I done right?" Had he
+acted as his father would have wished him to act had he been living? Had
+he done right in the sight of God? Yes, he felt confident he had done
+right in refusing to fight Wyndham, though he could not explain to his
+class-mates why he had so acted. That night ride was known only to
+Stanley and him. It was impossible for him to divulge the secret to his
+Form. He must suffer their taunts in silence, trusting that the time
+would soon come when he might speak.
+
+"There's one good thing, old Stan will understand me. I can make it
+clear enough to him. He ought to be here by this time. Why doesn't he
+come?" he asked himself.
+
+He tried to shake off the gloom that oppressed him, but could not. His
+head went to the desk again, and again he heard the yells and hooting of
+the boys at the pit; but the cries seemed fainter.
+
+"Why doesn't Stan come--why doesn't Stan come?" he kept asking himself.
+
+He rested thus for some time--how long he knew not--when he was roused
+by a timid hand resting on his arm, while a gentle voice whispered:
+"Percival."
+
+He looked up quickly. Hibbert was standing beside him, his face, usually
+so pale, was slightly flushed, as the brown eyes turned to Paul.
+
+"I haven't disturbed you, have I?" he asked.
+
+"What do you want with me, Hibbert?" Paul asked rather sharply; for he
+did not like the lad breaking in upon him so quietly.
+
+"You looked so wretched and miserable I could not help coming in. You're
+not angry with me, are you?"
+
+"Angry with you? No; why should I be?" answered Paul, forcing a smile to
+his face at the boy's eager question.
+
+"Oh, I'm so used to people being angry with me, except you and--and Mr.
+Weevil."
+
+"Mr. Weevil! Doesn't he ever get angry with you?"
+
+"No; he's very good to me."
+
+Paul was rather astonished at this piece of information, knowing that
+Weevil had a reputation for harshness.
+
+"Glad to hear it. He makes it up on the other fellows." Paul's mind
+flitted back to the night when Stanley was sent to Dormitory X. "But why
+aren't you outside, enjoying yourself with your class-mates?"
+
+"They never want me to play with them. I'm no good at their games,"
+answered the boy sadly; "but I've been with some of them this afternoon.
+I was at the--sand-pit."
+
+He volunteered the information with some hesitation. Paul flushed. What
+had happened would soon be known, then, to every boy in the school.
+
+"We found out what was going to happen in our Form; and so I went with
+the rest to see you--to see you----"
+
+Again the boy hesitated.
+
+"To see me turn tail and run. Out with it. Don't be afraid of hurting my
+feelings," cried Paul bitterly. "The other fellows won't. You'll hear
+what they'll be calling me presently--quite a choice collection of
+names--cur, pariah, coward, and the rest of it."
+
+"No, not coward. I know you couldn't be," said the boy confidently. "Any
+one can see that by looking in your face. I know you had some reason for
+going away. It's that made you so wretched. I knew you would be, and
+so--and so after waiting a little time to see what would happen, I
+followed after you."
+
+Paul was touched at Hibbert's devotion. In that one moment the boy had
+repaid a hundredfold the little act of kindness he had shown him when he
+first entered the school. He had come to Paul in his loneliness, and had
+brought a ray of sunshine into the gloom that had suddenly sprung up
+around him.
+
+"Do you know, Hibbert, you're a very good little chap to speak of me as
+you do, and to think of me as you do? I'm a long way off deserving it, I
+can tell you. You waited after I left the sand-pit, you say, to see what
+would happen? What did happen? They kept up the groans for me till they
+were tired, I suppose?"
+
+"Don't speak of it," said the boy, shivering.
+
+"You needn't be afraid of giving me pain, I tell you. I'm getting pretty
+tough. After they'd done hooting me----"
+
+"While they were still hooting you, Moncrief threw off his jacket, and
+leapt into your place."
+
+"What!" cried Paul, starting to his feet, and staring at the boy. "Leapt
+into my place?"
+
+"Yes, stood up to the Beetle--the fellow they call Wyndham; then the
+hooting stopped, and our fellows cheered madly, specially when Newall
+came forward and backed up Moncrief major."
+
+"Newall! backed up Moncrief!" repeated Paul, bewildered. "Do you mean to
+say Moncrief fought with Wyndham?"
+
+"Yes, wildly--madly."
+
+Paul closed his eyes, shuddering. He could see the two confronting each
+other, and staggering about in the sand-pit. For some moments he could
+not speak, and when his hands came from his face, it was as white as the
+boy's before him.
+
+"And who--who came off best, Hibbert?"
+
+"I don't know. I--I could not stop. To see them fighting so made
+me--made me feel bad all over. I'm not like other boys. And--and all the
+time I was thinking of you; so I hastened here, and--and found you."
+
+"They were still fighting as you left?"
+
+"Yes, yes; but where are you going?"
+
+Paul had seized his cap and turned to the door.
+
+"To see what has happened."
+
+"It will be all over by now; don't go," pleaded the boy.
+
+But Paul was deaf to Hibbert's pleading.
+
+"What have I done--what have I done?" he asked himself as he rushed into
+the grounds. "Fool--fool, not to have guessed what would happen!"
+
+Somehow we do rarely guess what will happen. Things which seem so clear
+to us after they have happened are quite hidden from our sight
+beforehand. The best of us grope about in the dark, and stumble blindly
+along as Paul Percival had done.
+
+Paul rushed on--back--back to the sand-pit. Suddenly he came to a dead
+stop. The hum of many voices reached his ears. A crowd of boys were
+coming towards him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+"HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A LEPER"
+
+
+In the midst of the boys coming along the road was Stanley. He was not
+so easy to recognize, for his face was bruised and swollen, and a thin
+streak of scarlet came from a cut near the right eye. He seemed to
+stagger along the road rather than walk, and, what was most strange,
+Newall had one arm through his, as though to support him.
+
+Paul's heart fell. It was true enough what Hibbert had said. A fight had
+taken place, and, judging by appearances, Stanley had had the worst of
+it. For the moment Paul could not move; then, rousing himself, with an
+effort he ran towards Stanley.
+
+Instantly he was greeted with a storm of hisses. Stanley turned from him
+with a look on his bruised and swollen face Paul had never seen there
+before. It was a look of repugnance, as though the affection between
+them had suddenly turned to loathing. Then the crowd of boys parted, and
+drawing away from Paul, left him standing there alone--he might have
+been a leper.
+
+He began to feel indignant against Stanley. He at least ought to have
+known why he had refused to fight Wyndham; and then, as he recalled
+Stanley's bruised face, his indignation vanished. The old tenderness and
+affection for his friend came back in a wave.
+
+"Why did I leave you, Stan--why did I leave you?"
+
+He reproached himself, and still more bitterly Wyndham. It was Wyndham
+who had done this--who had bruised and battered Stanley, and raised this
+barrier between them.
+
+"You'll have to reckon with me some day, Master Wyndham," he said to
+himself.
+
+He looked in the direction of Garside. The boys had disappeared from
+sight. How could he get an explanation of what had happened? He would go
+and demand one; but somehow as he turned to the school his feet seemed
+as heavy as lead. For the first time he felt as though he had no right
+there. What was the use of going back when no one wanted him? He had
+made a horrible mess of everything.
+
+Paul felt utterly miserable, as though he would like to flee from
+everything and every one. Then the pale face of little Hibbert rose
+before him, and he heard him speaking again as he had spoken to him in
+the class-room:
+
+"Coward! I know you couldn't be. Any one can see that by looking in your
+face."
+
+There was one at the school, at any rate, who had not lost faith in him.
+And Paul was strengthened by the memory.
+
+Thus thinking, he turned away from the school again, scarcely heeding
+the direction in which he went. Happening to look up, he saw Waterman
+coming along the road towards him. He was strolling along with both
+hands thrust in his pockets in his usual leisurely manner. He was one of
+that class of boys who never seem to have anything to do, and plenty of
+time to do it in.
+
+"I wonder if he will shun me like the rest?" thought Paul. And then he
+added with a smile: "At any rate he won't run away from me. It'll be too
+much trouble."
+
+As Paul anticipated, Waterman made no attempt to avoid him, but he would
+have passed on without speaking, had not Paul stood directly in his
+pathway.
+
+"You were at the sand-pit this afternoon, Waterman?"
+
+"Of course I was."
+
+"And saw what happened?"
+
+"Yes," was the curt answer, and Waterman endeavoured to pass on, but
+Paul still stood in his pathway.
+
+"You're not in a hurry, Watey."
+
+"Hurry!" repeated the boy indignantly, with raised eyebrows, as though
+that were one of the most offensive words Paul could use. "I never fag
+over things, you know."
+
+"Then you can spare me a minute or two. I'll turn back with you, if you
+like."
+
+Waterman neither assented nor dissented. So soon as Paul turned, he kept
+on his way, with both hands in his pockets, as though unconscious of
+Paul's presence.
+
+"I want to know what happened at the pit after I left."
+
+"Haven't you seen any of the other fellows? Why didn't you get them to
+explain? I'm never good at explanations."
+
+"I meant speaking to them, but they booed and hissed at me, like geese."
+
+"Really?" And Waterman's eyebrows went up, as though he marvelled at so
+much unnecessary exertion being expended on Paul. "I don't see the good
+of that, but it's the way some fellows have of showing their feeling.
+And come to think of it, I don't wonder. You cut up badly at the
+sand-pit. I really don't know whether I'm doing quite right in speaking
+to you--I really don't."
+
+"You can settle that point after. Tell me first what happened at the
+sand-pit, Watey," urged Paul.
+
+"Moncrief took your place when you turned tail----"
+
+"Yes, yes; I've heard that. After--after----"
+
+"Well, unfortunately for Garside, Moncrief got the worst of it. He made
+a very plucky stand, but he wasn't a match for the Beetle--what's the
+fellow's name?--Wyndham. Moncrief stood well up to him, but it was no
+good. He was knocked down once or twice, until Newall, who was backing
+him, you know, threw up the sponge. Moncrief would never have given in
+himself. I never saw a fellow look so wretched and miserable as he did
+when, after coming to, they told him it was all over and he had lost.
+But the fellows cheered him for his pluck, and some of the Beetles
+joined in after they had shouted themselves hoarse over their own
+champion, especially that little turncoat, Mellor. He shouted himself
+black in the face."
+
+"Wretched and miserable, you say?" repeated Paul. Brief as Waterman's
+description was, he could picture all that had happened--he could see
+Stanley reeling under Wyndham's blows, and the climax of it all when he
+had swallowed the last bitter drop--the humiliation of defeat.
+
+"Yes, wretched and miserable, and I don't wonder at it." They walked on
+in silence for some moments; then Waterman suddenly spoke again: "Look
+here, Percival, it's an awful fag trying to understand any one, but I
+once thought I understood you. I never dreamt you'd turn tail like you
+did. I'll never try to understand any one again. I'll give it up."
+
+"Bear with me a little longer. I had my reasons for what I did."
+
+"I suppose you had. You can't be quite an idiot. But reasons can be
+explained. Why didn't you explain yours?"
+
+"Look here," said Paul; "you've acted decently towards me, Waterman, and
+I'll explain to you as far as I'm able. Supposing a Beetle had done you,
+a few weeks back, a splendid turn--got you out of a tight corner in
+which you might have lost your life? Are you following me?"
+
+"Beetle--tight corner. Yes, I follow; but don't make it too hazy. I
+don't want to suffer from brain-fag. You're out of a tight corner, and
+your life's saved by--a Beetle. Trot along."
+
+"Well, supposing on your return to school after that, a breeze springs
+up between the Beetles and the Fifth; and supposing the Fifth insist on
+you being its champion?"
+
+"Oh, that's absurd. They'd never insist on my being its champion. I
+can't follow you there, Percival."
+
+"I know it's hard," smiled Paul; "but, we're only supposing, you know."
+
+"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten; but I can't see the use of supposing
+absurdities. Go on your own giddy way. Supposing----"
+
+"The Fifth insist on you being its champion; and then supposing, when
+you get to the sand-pit to do battle for your form, you find that the
+champion of the Beetles--the one you're to do battle with--is the fellow
+who saved your life. Well, supposing all this, could you have fought
+him?"
+
+"You don't mean to say that this is what happened to you?" demanded
+Waterman, rousing himself in a surprising way.
+
+"You haven't answered me."
+
+"Well, if I could fancy myself as a champion of any kind, I don't think
+I could go for one who'd saved my life--bother it, no! But is this
+really what happened to you, Percival?"
+
+"Yes, it really happened to me."
+
+"Then why didn't you explain?"
+
+"Because I couldn't. My tongue's tied for the present. I'm only
+explaining to you in confidence, and I want you to promise me that you
+won't let it go any further."
+
+"I hate mysteries, they're so worrying. Why should there be any
+mystery?"
+
+"Why? I can't explain, except--except that there's something more
+important than the honour of the Fifth; than the honour of the school
+even. That's the reason why I'm obliged to keep silent."
+
+"Oh, I say, this is getting more and more worrying. But if you don't
+want me to speak, of course, I'll keep quiet!"
+
+Paul knew that he could trust Waterman. In spite of his slackness--in
+spite of his indolence--he could be relied on to keep his word. In fact,
+he had one or two good qualities in reserve. If he made no close
+friendships, he had no enemies. "It was too great a trouble," he would
+have told you. "Too great a fag." That was only half the truth; the
+whole truth was that Waterman had, at bottom, a very good heart, though
+it was not often seen. It was hidden under his indolence of manner.
+
+He allowed a corner of it to be seen in a curious fashion on the way
+back to the school. He stuck to Paul's side--both hands in his pocket,
+of course--and made no attempt to "cut him," as the others had done.
+They passed several of the Gargoyles as they reached the school grounds,
+and directly Waterman's ears caught the suggestion of a jibe--and he had
+rather sharp ears considering how lazy he was--he would start whistling
+a popular tune, so that the jibe had a good deal of the sting taken from
+it by the time it reached its mark.
+
+"I wish you could make it right with the fellows," he remarked, as he
+took leave of Paul.
+
+"All in good time. I'm grateful that you haven't turned your back on me,
+Waterman."
+
+"Oh, don't butter me for that. I can't turn my back on any one--it's too
+great a fag."
+
+And Waterman strolled away with his hands in his pocket as though they
+had been glued there, whistling "Hail, smiling morn."
+
+Paul's talk with him had put him in a more cheerful mood.
+
+"I've only to find Stan and explain things. I don't care a snap of my
+fingers for the other fellows--they can go to Halifax," Paul told
+himself, as he went in search of Stanley. But though he searched for him
+in every direction, he could not find him.
+
+"He don't like to show himself just yet, with so many beauty spots on
+his face. Perhaps he's lying down," thought Paul, as he made his way to
+the dormitory. But Stanley was not in the dormitory--it was empty.
+"Strange. Where can he have got to?"
+
+Descending the stairs, the first boy he ran against was Plunger.
+
+"Seen anything of Moncrief major?" he asked.
+
+Plunger simply stared at him, while his eyebrows went up, in the way
+they had, till they disappeared into the stubborn thatch above.
+
+"Did you hear what I said?"
+
+Plunger did another movement with his eccentric eyebrows, then turned on
+his heel. Paul sprang after him, angry in spite of himself.
+
+"Now look here, Master Plunger," he said, seizing him by the collar, and
+twisting him sharply round, "none of your nonsense. You needn't pretend
+that you didn't hear me, because you did. I asked you a civil question,
+and I want a civil answer."
+
+"You ought to know more about him than I do, Percival. The last I saw of
+him he was being knocked about for you in the sand-pit."
+
+And Plunger laughed impudently in Paul's face. Paul's hand fell from his
+collar. The jibe struck home, and Plunger went laughing on his way. He
+was always supremely happy when he could "score," as he termed it, "off
+those bounders of the Fifth." Paul felt that he had descended low,
+indeed, when he could be used as a target for the jibes of Master Freddy
+Plunger.
+
+He glanced back to the flag that waved above Garside--from the flag to
+the school door. As he did so, the figure he was looking for appeared in
+the doorway--the figure of Stanley Moncrief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE "GARGOYLE RECORD"
+
+
+Stanley was not alone, as Paul hoped he would be. Newall and Parfitt
+were with him. It was evident that his new-found friends had been
+"doctoring" him, for the blood had been carefully washed from his face,
+and it presented a less bruised and battered appearance.
+
+As he came from the door he caught sight of Paul. Paul hoped that he had
+got over his bitterness towards him by this time, and that he would come
+forward and greet him on the old footing of friendship. But he was
+disappointed; for as soon almost as Stanley caught sight of him, he
+turned away his head and commenced talking rapidly to Newall, as though
+he were unaware of Paul's existence. It was perfectly evident that his
+feeling to Paul had not softened in any way, and it was quite as clear
+that he meant ignoring him.
+
+Paul determined to speak to him, however, so, as he passed by him, he
+touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Stanley!"
+
+At his touch, Stanley turned swiftly round and confronted him with
+blazing eyes.
+
+"What do you want with me?"
+
+"To speak with you for a few moments--alone."
+
+"I've had as much speaking with you as I ever want to have. I never wish
+to speak with you again--never, never!" He was greatly agitated. His
+voice was trembling with passion; but it grew calmer and harder, as,
+turning to his new-found companions, he said:
+
+"You hear what I say, Newall; and you, Parfitt. You are my witnesses."
+
+"Yes, we hear. We are your witnesses," said Parfitt.
+
+"Thanks!" And without waiting an answer from Paul, the three passed on.
+Not that Paul had an answer to give. He could not have spoken had his
+life depended on it. He was too staggered; too pained. Never speak to
+Stanley again! He with whom he had been on the closest terms of
+friendship ever since he had been at Garside!
+
+"Had he listened to me for a few moments I could have explained all. He
+doesn't dream who Wyndham is. He can be as stubborn as a mule. And what
+a look he gave me!" thought Paul. "I never dreamt that Stan would ever
+look at me in that way. I know what it is--it isn't Stan himself. It's
+those fellows he's picked up. He's sore against me, and they keep
+rubbing it in to keep the sore open. If I could only get him away from
+them."
+
+Paul thought for a moment or two how he should act. In spite of
+Stanley's hard words, he had no intention that the friendship which had
+existed between them should be severed without one more effort on his
+part to heal the breach. They were bound to meet in the dormitory that
+night. It would then be possible for him to whisper a word or two of
+explanation.
+
+But when evening came he found to his dismay that Stanley had left the
+dormitory. He had got permission to exchange cubicles with Leveson; so
+that he was now in the same dormitory as Newall.
+
+"He's gone over bag and baggage to the enemy," said Paul sorrowfully.
+"If Parfitt had only walked his chalks, and taken up his quarters with
+his friend Newall, we could very well have spared him; but Stan----"
+
+He glanced round. Parfitt was watching him from the side of his bed,
+enjoying his discomfiture. That did not serve to lessen Paul's sorrow.
+
+"----forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against
+us."
+
+Very earnestly he breathed the divine prayer that evening. The breach
+between him and Stanley seemed to be widening. What was to be done?
+There was one way left. He would write to him on the morrow.
+
+"He has refused to listen to an explanation, but he can't refuse to read
+my letter."
+
+So Paul rose early in the morning and wrote a letter. He explained as
+briefly as he could the reasons which had made him act as he had done at
+the sand-pit.
+
+"Wyndham was the fellow who acted so nobly when I went with your
+father's letter to Redmead that night, Stan. I could not raise my hand
+against him, and I never dreamed that you would. I hurried away because
+it was impossible for me to explain to the fellows what happened on that
+night--you alone know why. It would have got all over the place, and
+would have soon reached Weevil's ears. Then the last chance of finding
+out what is between him and Zuker would have gone. I can quite
+understand your soreness against me, old fellow, and I'm sorry--very
+sorry--that things turned out as they did at the sand-pit; but I hope
+you now see that I'm not so much to blame as you thought me. It is our
+first fall-out. Let it be our last. We were never meant to be enemies,
+old fellow. It mustn't be--mustn't. If all are against me, and you are
+with me, I shan't so much mind; so let's shake hands."
+
+Paul put the letter in an envelope and handed it to Waterman, who was
+still stretching and yawning, as though not quite awake.
+
+"Do you mind giving this to Moncrief major. You're about the only fellow
+in the Form who wouldn't mind doing me a favour," he said.
+
+"Moncrief major. Yes, yes; of course I will. It's an awfully lazy sort
+of morning, don't you think, Percival?" answered Waterman, stretching
+himself as he took the letter.
+
+That was Waterman's opinion of mornings generally. Every morning was a
+"lazy sort of a morning."
+
+"Yes, Watey," answered Paul, taking him by the arm and hurrying him
+towards the grounds where most of the scholars were. In a little while
+he espied Stanley, playing with Newall and Parfitt in the fives-court.
+
+"How fellows can fag about at that stupid game I could never make out,"
+remarked Waterman. "Am I to wait for an answer?"
+
+"If you wouldn't mind."
+
+"Mind? Not in the least. Waiting is so restful."
+
+He strolled off leisurely with the letter. Paul watched him. He reached
+the fives-court, and, waiting his opportunity, handed the note to
+Stanley. He looked at it; then questioned Waterman. A laugh went up from
+Newall and Parfitt as he did so. Then Stanley, without opening the
+letter, tore it into fragments and threw them contemptuously into the
+air.
+
+Waterman thrust his hands deep in his pockets, shrugged his shoulders,
+and returned to Paul.
+
+"You saw what happened, Percival?" he said.
+
+"Yes, I saw what happened," came the slow answer. "What was it he asked
+for?"
+
+"He only asked who it was from. I told him."
+
+"And then he deliberately tore my letter up and tossed the pieces in the
+air. Waterman, I'm sorry that you were so insulted."
+
+"Don't think of me. I rather liked it--really. A snub does one good on a
+lazy sort of morning like this--it really does."
+
+He was about to pass on, but, checking himself, said in a more serious
+tone:
+
+"I wish I could have brought you a better answer, Percival."
+
+That day was one of the longest days Paul ever remembered: it dragged so
+slowly along. There was Stanley in the same room, sitting at times
+within a few feet of him, and yet they did not look at each other. No
+word passed between them.
+
+"I will never hold out my hand to him again," said Paul in the
+bitterness of his heart. He had done all that could be done to bring
+Stanley to reason, but every effort failed. "He must go his own way, and
+I must go mine. Some day, perhaps, he'll be sorry that he did not read
+my letter."
+
+Belonging to the Fourth Form was a boy named Dick Jessel. He was a
+fair-haired, blue-eyed boy--quite a Saxon type--with a shrewd, sharp
+wit. His father was the editor of a provincial paper, and Jessel ran a
+journal of his own at the school, by the aid of a hectograph and Jowitt,
+of the same Form, who was sub-editor, reporter, and "printer's devil"
+rolled into one. They were called the "two J's."
+
+A couple of days after the struggle at the sand-pit a number was issued
+of the _Gargoyle Record_--so the journal was named. Among other items of
+news appeared the following:
+
+     _Motto for the Fifth._
+
+    He who fights and runs away
+    Will live to fight another day.
+
+    "Lost, stolen, or strayed.--A few pages from the Black Book.
+    Whoever will bring the same to the P. D., at the office of this
+    paper, will be rewarded."
+
+    "Hints on Fashion.--A fresher of the Third is prepared to give
+    hints on the correct style in trousers, spats, and white
+    waistcoats. How they should be worn, and why. References exchanged
+    and given--through the matron--preferably by carte-de-visite."
+
+    "Lost, stolen, or strayed.--Missing Link from the Third. Last seen
+    in all his native beauty on a window in the Forum. Believed to have
+    hidden himself in a box so as to escape the notice of his
+    pursuers."
+
+    "Notice.--Our poet is stuck for a rhyme to 'hunger.' If any one can
+    oblige the poet we'll give him a paragraph all to himself in the
+    next number. N.B.--The rhyme must be a name of some kind--bird,
+    beast, or fish."
+
+    "Dropped. Somewhere near the sand-pit on Cranstead Common. Honour
+    of the Fifth. When last seen was covered by crawlers--believed to
+    be Beetles."
+
+Plunger was one of the earliest to obtain a copy of the _Gargoyle
+Record_. He read the first two paragraphs, and then raced into the
+common room bubbling over with excitement.
+
+Several boys were standing round the fire--some of the Third Form,
+including Harry Moncrief, Baldry, and Sedgefield; one or two of the
+Fourth, and three or four of the Fifth, including Stanley Moncrief,
+Newall--the two were now almost inseparable--Arbery, and Leveson.
+
+"Oh, I say, have you seen the last number of the _Record_? It's a
+slashing number, I can tell you," Plunger burst out.
+
+Immediately everybody was eager to get possession of the _Record_.
+Baldry made a snatch at it.
+
+"No, you don't, Baldhead," said Plunger, putting it behind him, with
+his back to the wall. "Manners! If you can't listen like a gentleman,
+you'd better git."
+
+"Don't mind him, Plunger. He's only an outsider," said Arbery
+soothingly. "Read."
+
+"Read--read!" came in a chorus.
+
+"And keep your eyebrows out of your head while you're about it," said
+Leveson. "I never saw such eyebrows."
+
+Plunger glared at Leveson.
+
+"Never mind him, Plunger," came the soothing voice of Arbery. "It's only
+envy, you know. I wish I had eyebrows like 'em. Get on."
+
+"I will get on--I will," said Plunger, with a last savage glance at
+Leveson. "Listen to this--here's a splendid hit against the Fifth." And
+he read: "'Motto for the Fifth. He who fights and runs away, Will live
+to fight another day.' Isn't it just splendid!"
+
+Those of the Fifth who were present maintained a gloomy silence, while
+those of the lower forms giggled and chuckled softly to themselves. They
+dared not do it too openly, for fear of bringing down upon their heads
+the wrath of the senior Form.
+
+When Plunger thought his first item of news had soaked itself thoroughly
+into the "bounders" of the Fifth, he read the second item. This fell
+rather flat and elicited no comment.
+
+Then Plunger began to bubble over again. He could not get on for a
+minute or two.
+
+"What's the ass giggling for?" "Get on, get on," and so forth, were some
+of the comments that greeted him.
+
+"'Hints on Fashion,'" read Plunger. "'A fresher of the Third'--ho,
+ho!--'is prepared to give hints on the correct style in trousers, spats,
+and white waistcoats. How they should be worn, and why.'--Ho, ho! Hold
+me up.--'References exchanged and given--through the matron--preferably
+by carte-de-visite.' Ho, ho! Hold me up."
+
+Plunger's eyebrows disappeared into his thatch of hair, and he laughed
+till he was black in the face, while all eyes went to poor Harry
+Moncrief, who devoutly wished that the ground might open and he might
+sink through.
+
+"Is that all, Plunger?" inquired Arbery. "Get on to the next paragraph,
+or you'll choke."
+
+"I couldn't get any farther for laughter," explained Plunger. "I thought
+you fellows would like that little tit-bit, so I rushed in here." He
+took up the paper again, and glanced at the next item. "This seems
+rather a good bit. 'Lost, stolen, or strayed. Missing Link from the
+Third. Last seen in all his native beauty on--on----"
+
+Plunger came to an abrupt pause, hummed and hawed, and began to look
+exceedingly uncomfortable.
+
+"'Last seen in all his native beauty----' Well, Plunger, what are you
+stopping for now?" cried Leveson. "If you can't read it yourself, hand
+over the _Record_ to some one who can."
+
+"Shan't; it's my paper, and I'm not going to hand it over to any
+one--see," answered Plunger defiantly, putting the paper behind his
+back.
+
+"Well, read on," shouted Arbery. "We're dying to hear who the Missing
+Link can be."
+
+"You'd better get a paper of your own, then; I'm not going to read any
+more of the trash."
+
+"Thought it was a slashing number? What's come over you, Freddy?" asked
+Baldry.
+
+"Shut up--oh!"
+
+The exclamation came from Plunger as he felt the paper snatched from
+behind him by Leveson; then, as he tried to regain possession of it, his
+arms were pinioned behind him by one of the Fifth Form boys.
+
+"Oh, oh, just listen!" laughed Leveson, "and see if you can guess why
+Plunger put the brake on. 'Lost, stolen, or strayed. Missing Link from
+the Third. Last seen in all his native beauty in the Forum. Believed to
+have hidden himself in a box so as to escape the notice of his
+pursuers.'"
+
+There was an outburst of laughter, as all eyes went to Plunger, who was
+making furious efforts to get away.
+
+"When it's a question of beauty, there's only one person in it," went on
+Leveson calmly, "and that is----"
+
+"Plunger!" came in a chorus.
+
+"When we do agree, our unanimity is wonderful, as the Head used to tell
+us," went on Leveson. "Any other pretty bits? Oh--ah! Listen to this:
+'Notice. Our poet is stuck for a rhyme to "hunger." If any one can
+oblige the poet, we'll give him a paragraph all to himself in the next
+number. N.B.--The rhyme must be a name of some kind--bird, beast, or
+fish.' Ho, ho! Don't squirm so, Plunger. What branch of the animal
+kingdom do you belong to?"
+
+While they were shrieking with laughter at his discomfiture Plunger
+shouted above it all:
+
+"Go on--go on! As you have gone so far, you'd better go on a bit
+farther. Ah, you're not quite so ready with your reading now, Mr.
+Leveson."
+
+The laughter suddenly stopped.
+
+"Read--read," came in a chorus.
+
+And Leveson read: "'Dropped--somewhere near sand-pit on Cranstead
+Common--Honour of the Fifth. When last seen, was covered by
+crawlers--believed to be Beetles.'"
+
+There was an ominous silence on the part of the senior boys. The juniors
+tittered. Leveson screwed up the paper in his hand.
+
+"Mind what you're doing, Leveson. That's my paper," cried Plunger. Then
+there was silence again, as Paul Percival entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+PAUL WRITES A LETTER
+
+
+Stanley's head had fallen to his breast as Leveson read that bitter
+paragraph from the _Record_. He looked up quickly as Paul entered the
+room. For the moment it seemed as though he would speak; then he bit his
+lips fiercely to keep back the words that sprang to them, and went from
+the room. Newall followed him, then Arbery. One by one they followed his
+example--Third Form boys as well as Fifth--until one only
+remained--Waterman, who had been comfortably resting in a chair by the
+fire throughout the scene described in the last chapter. As the last boy
+went out, he glanced up.
+
+"Hallo, Percival! Is that you?"
+
+"Why don't you do the same as the rest of the fellows, and clear out?"
+asked Paul bitterly.
+
+"I'm quite comfortable where I am, thank you."
+
+And Waterman stretched out his legs, and settled himself more
+comfortably in his chair. Paul could see that it was not altogether a
+question of comfort with Waterman. His laziness was only a cloak to
+disguise a real feeling of friendship towards him.
+
+"The fellows were discussing me as I came in?"
+
+"I don't quite know what they were discussing. Oh, young Plunger had
+made himself an ass, as usual, over some paragraph in the _Record_. That
+was it."
+
+Leveson had screwed up the paper, it will be remembered, when he had
+read the paragraph about the honour of the Fifth, and, as Paul entered,
+had flung it contemptuously from him into a corner of the room. Paul's
+eye went to it as Waterman was speaking.
+
+"Paragraph in the _Record_," he repeated, as he smoothed it out. "What
+have they got to say about Plunger?"
+
+He quickly read the paragraphs which had reference to Plunger, and then
+he read the one which he knew well enough had reference to himself.
+Waterman rose from his chair as the paper dropped from Paul's hand and
+placed a hand on his shoulder.
+
+"You're cut up, Percival. I wouldn't let that paragraph worry me. It's
+really not worth it. There's nothing in the world worth worrying
+about--there really isn't."
+
+"You don't mean what you say, Waterman--though it's kind of you to say
+it. Honour's worth troubling about--one's own honour; the honour of
+one's form; the honour of one's school; and I know that, disguise it as
+you may, you're just as keen on it as any in the school. And all the
+fellows believe that I've dragged it through the mud."
+
+"Oh, well, things will clear up some day, Percival; then you'll come
+into your own," said Waterman cheerfully.
+
+"Some day I suppose they will; but it may be a long time first, and
+there's no game so hard to play as the waiting game."
+
+"That's where you're wrong, Percival. There's no game in the world like
+it--the waiting game, I mean. There's no fag about it, and that's what I
+like. Just wait your time, you know--take it easy--no flurry--go as you
+please. It's the game of all games for my ha'pence. It really is,
+Percival. So don't worry, old fellow--and don't flurry."
+
+Paul could not help smiling to himself at Waterman's easy view of
+things, but the smile quickly disappeared when he was once more alone.
+Waterman had talked about "things clearing up," and "coming into his
+own"; but would things ever clear up? Would he ever win back the honour
+of the Form, and the confidence of those who belonged to it? Saddest of
+all was the memory that Stanley, who had been his greatest friend, now
+appeared to be his greatest enemy.
+
+Suddenly it occurred to him--he would write to Mr. Walter Moncrief, and
+tell him what had happened that night when he went to Dormitory X. The
+idea had occurred to him before, but he had put it off in the hope that
+he might have surer evidence to go upon. No further evidence had been
+forthcoming, but delay might be dangerous; so he determined to write.
+
+So he went into the writing-room, and wrote to Mr. Moncrief, telling him
+exactly what had happened on the night he went to Dormitory X.
+
+"I am pretty well certain," he went on, "that the man I saw with Mr.
+Weevil is one of the men who came after me on the night I came to your
+house at Redmead--the chief of the two. It was night-time, but I had a
+fairly good view of his face. What he has to do with Mr. Weevil, I can't
+make out. I should be sorry to think that Mr. Weevil has anything to do
+with a traitor to his country; but there must be something at the bottom
+of it all. What that something is, you may be able to find out better
+than I can. Dr. Colville, our Head, is away, so I cannot go to him. What
+ought to be done? Will you let me know what you think?"
+
+Having written this letter, Paul felt more comfortable. So soon as he
+heard from Mr. Moncrief, his lips would be unsealed, and he might take
+steps to clear his own honour. He would then be able to explain to his
+Form--to all the school if need be--what had prevented him from
+confronting Wyndham at the sand-pit.
+
+But having finished his letter, there was one great difficulty in the
+way. All letters written in the school were supposed to pass, first of
+all, through the hands of the master. How could he let that letter pass
+through the hands of Mr. Weevil? As he was thinking over this dilemma,
+Hibbert entered the room, and told him that Mr. Travers wished to speak
+to him. Mr. Travers was master of the Fifth.
+
+Paul rose to his feet, and thrust the letter in his pocket, wondering
+what Mr. Travers could want with him. Then it occurred to him that
+Hibbert was just the boy he wanted; he could trust Hibbert with
+anything. Hibbert would post the letter for him.
+
+"Hibbert, I want you to do me a great favour," he said, drawing the
+letter from his pocket. "I want you to post this letter for me. There's
+nothing wrong in it, I give you my word of honour; but, I don't want Mr.
+Weevil to know. That's why I am not sending it through the school post."
+
+Hibbert expressed his willingness to post it, and Paul handed him the
+letter, then went to Mr. Travers' room. Hibbert hastened off with the
+letter, but, as ill-luck would have it, he ran full tilt against Mr.
+Weevil, just as he reached the outer door. In doing so, he stumbled, and
+would have fallen to the ground had not the master caught him by the
+arm.
+
+[Illustration: "AS ILL-LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, HIBBERT RAN FULL TILT AGAINST
+MR. WEEVIL, JUST AS HE REACHED THE OUTER DOOR."]
+
+"Hallo! Where are you running to in such a hurry?" he asked, in that
+gentle voice he always used to Hibbert--softer than that used by him to
+any other boy in the school.
+
+"Out--in--the grounds, sir."
+
+In stumbling, Hibbert's hand had been jerked from his breast, and Mr.
+Weevil caught sight of the letter.
+
+"What's that--a letter?"
+
+Hibbert did not answer. It was useless denying it.
+
+"Step this way."
+
+Mr. Weevil's tone had now become quite stern. He led the way into one of
+the class-rooms; then closed the door.
+
+"Now have the goodness to hand me that letter," he said, gazing at
+Hibbert through half-closed eyes.
+
+Hibbert dared not refuse; so he handed him the letter.
+
+Mr. Weevil's eyes opened to their fullest extent when he saw the address
+on it:
+
+    W. MONCRIEF, Esq.,
+    Redmead,
+    Oakville (Kent).
+
+"For whom were you posting this letter--Moncrief major, or Moncrief
+minor?"
+
+"Neither," came the low answer.
+
+"Who, then? Come; no harm shall befall you if you speak the truth."
+
+"I don't mind myself, but--but--I don't want any harm to happen
+to--to----"
+
+"The one who sent you--eh? Well, we'll see. Just tell me frankly who
+sent you with this letter? It is quite easy for me to find out by
+opening it, you know; but I would much rather hear it from you."
+
+"Percival," answered the boy, hesitatingly, seeing there was no help for
+it.
+
+"Percival!" echoed the master. "Wait here a moment."
+
+He left the room with the letter. Hibbert wondered what he intended
+doing with it. Would he open it, or would he send for Percival? He was
+on thorns. Percival had particularly wished to keep the note from Mr.
+Weevil. The very first thing he had asked him to do--and that so
+simple--he had made a mess of.
+
+"How stupid of me! How stupid of me! Percival will never trust me with
+anything again."
+
+In a few minutes Mr. Weevil returned. His face had not lost its
+sternness.
+
+"In sending you with that letter, Percival knew well enough he was
+acting against the rules of the school."
+
+"I--I--dare say it slipped his memory, sir."
+
+"Nothing of the sort. He knew well enough he was breaking the rules of
+the school, and, worse still, that he was making you an accomplice in
+the act. However, I do not intend to deal severely with the case, for
+your sake. You are quite new to the ways and rules of this place. Take
+the letter. Post it; but don't say a word to Percival that I stopped
+you. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes; I understand," said the boy, as he took the letter, and ran off
+with it to the post. He looked at the letter as he ran. Was it the same?
+Yes, the very same--the same address, in Paul's handwriting. It was very
+kind of Mr. Weevil, and he would always be grateful to him for his
+kindness.
+
+Paul, meanwhile, had gone to Mr. Travers, wondering what he could want
+with him. The master of the Fifth was a man of about thirty, who led a
+studious, secluded life. He was a capable master, but had not succeeded
+in winning the sympathies of the scholars. One of the chief reasons was
+that, though he took an interest in their studies, he took little
+interest in their sports. He preferred instead long, solitary rambles.
+Paul was, therefore, the more surprised when he found that the object of
+Mr. Travers in sending for him was to question him as to the relations
+between him and his class-mates.
+
+"I've noticed that you do not appear to be on very good terms with the
+Form, Percival," he said. "I should not have said anything about it,
+only I happened to be near the Common Room this afternoon when you
+entered, and found that that was a signal for the others to march out. I
+don't like a feeling of that kind in my Form. I know well enough that
+boys will have their quarrels, and that they can be usually trusted to
+settle them alone; but this seems to me deeper than an ordinary quarrel,
+otherwise I should not have spoken. I have no wish to press for your
+confidence, but if you will tell me what the cause of this ill-feeling
+is, I might do something to bring about a better understanding between
+you and the Form."
+
+"Oh, it's only a bit of a dispute between me and Moncrief major."
+
+"And for a dispute between you and Moncrief major all the Form are
+against you?"
+
+"They take his side, sir. They think that he is right and I'm in the
+wrong--that is all."
+
+"That is all!" echoed the master. "And that is all the explanation you
+can give? Remember, I'm not forcing an explanation from you. I'm not
+asking you as your master, but as your friend."
+
+Paul was drawn to him as he had never been drawn before, such is the
+power of sympathy. He regretted more than ever that he had sent the
+letter to Mr. Moncrief; but it was impossible to recall it. Hibbert was
+on his way with it at that moment to the post.
+
+"That is all the explanation I can give, sir."
+
+"Very well, Percival"--the manner of Mr. Travers changed as the words
+fell from Paul's lips; he was again the master, and frigid as ice--"then
+there is nothing more to be said. I regret that I sent for you."
+
+Thus curtly dismissed, Paul went out, feeling miserable. At the time
+when he so wanted a friend he had lost one. And yet how else could he
+have acted? There was no other way. He must wait and see what the
+letter to Mr. Moncrief would bring forth. And with this thought
+uppermost in his mind he went to the writing-room to await the return
+of Hibbert.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE SCHOOL OF ADVERSITY
+
+
+Paul took up a pen as he sat and waited, and idly traced words upon the
+blotting-paper. But his thoughts were far away. He was thinking of the
+interview he had just had with Mr. Travers. He was still thinking of it
+when the door opened and Hibbert entered.
+
+"Have you posted the letter?" Paul asked.
+
+"Yes; the postman was just clearing the box when I slipped it in."
+
+Paul would almost as soon that he had not succeeded in posting it--that
+he had brought the letter back with him. Perhaps it was best as it was,
+however.
+
+"Thanks, Hibbert."
+
+He did not notice that the boy was looking uncomfortable--as though he
+had something on his mind but dared not speak it.
+
+"You have seen Mr. Travers?"
+
+"Yes." Then noticing for the first time the nervous, apprehensive look
+in the boy's eyes, and thinking it was due to the fear that he had got
+into further trouble with the master, he added: "Nothing happened. He
+was quite nice with me."
+
+"I'm glad of that."
+
+By this time Hibbert was standing by Paul's side. Suddenly an
+exclamation came from his lips.
+
+"Hallo! What's wrong?"
+
+Paul, looking at the boy, saw that his eyes were fixed upon the
+blotting-paper.
+
+"That--that! Do you know anybody of that name?" he asked, as he pointed
+to a name Paul had unconsciously traced on the blotting-paper--that of
+Zuker.
+
+"Why? Do you?" Paul asked.
+
+"Y-yes," answered the boy, with hesitation. "I--I once knew a boy of
+that name."
+
+"Where?" asked Paul, at once interested.
+
+"When I was at school in Germany; but there are a good many Zukers
+there, you know, and the boy I speak of is dead."
+
+"Dead! Did you know his father?"
+
+Hibbert shook his head. Paul tore up the blotting-paper. It was just
+possible that Mr. Weevil might catch sight of the name, just as Hibbert
+had done.
+
+"You--you don't like the name?" the boy asked, as he watched Paul.
+
+"Oh, it's as good as any other, I suppose."
+
+"You must have known some one of that name--I'm certain of it,"
+persisted the boy.
+
+"Well, I don't mind telling you, Hibbert--you've been such a good little
+chap to me--it was through a man of that name my father lost his life."
+
+"A man of the--of the name of Zuker?" stammered Hibbert.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Tell me--do tell me--all about it?" pleaded the boy, clutching Paul
+suddenly by the arm.
+
+"Oh, it's a sad tale, and it won't interest you."
+
+"Indeed it will--very, very much. Anything that has to do with you
+interests me. Tell me."
+
+Without intending to compliment Paul, the boy had paid him the most
+delicate compliment he could have done. Besides, Paul was now very much
+alone, and in his loneliness it was nice to have some one to speak to;
+so he told his eager listener the tragic circumstances that had cost his
+father his life. Hibbert scarcely spoke or moved all the time Paul was
+telling the story. He hung upon every word.
+
+"How noble of your father to jump overboard and save the man--the man
+Zuker," said the lad, when Paul had finished. "There's not many who
+would have risked their life to save an enemy. I think you said Zuker
+was an enemy."
+
+"Well, I don't know about an enemy. He seems to have been a wretched,
+contemptible spy; but what's wrong with you?" he suddenly exclaimed, as
+his eyes went to the boy's face. It was of an ashen pallor, and he was
+trembling in every limb.
+
+"Nothing wrong, except--except that I can't help thinking what a lot you
+and your mother must have suffered after your father's death."
+
+"I didn't suffer much, because I was too young to remember him. I was
+only a little more than a year old when it all happened. Still, I should
+so like to have known my father. They say he was very brave, and kind,
+and true, and one of the best captains in the Navy; and when sometimes I
+think of him, and what he might have been to me, I feel very bitter
+against the man for whom he gave his life. Then I battle against the
+feeling, and a better takes its place. I think to myself--What nobler
+death could a man die than in trying to save the life of one who had
+done him wrong."
+
+"Yes, Percival," said the boy, looking away; "it was a noble death--very
+noble--and your father must have been a noble man. What was it the spy
+did?"
+
+"Got into my father's cabin, and tried to get at his private
+despatches."
+
+"And where were they taking this man--the spy--when he jumped
+overboard?"
+
+"To Gibraltar, where he was to be tried by court-martial."
+
+"And after they'd tried him by court-martial?"
+
+"If the court-martial had found him guilty, they would have shot him."
+
+"Shot him?"
+
+"Yes, they showed no quarter at that time, I believe, to one who stole,
+or tried to steal, State secrets."
+
+"Oh, how horrible!" cried the boy, covering his face with his hands.
+
+"Don't you think that a man like that deserves to die, Hibbert?
+Remember, it isn't only one life he places in peril, but
+hundreds--thousands. He betrays a country."
+
+"Yes, yes, I dare say you are right, Percival--I'm certain you are
+right; but none the less, it sounds very terrible. Is it the same now as
+it was then--that no quarter would be given to a spy, I mean?"
+
+"I think so. But I'm sorry I told you the story," said Paul, looking at
+the boy apprehensively. His face was still deathly pale, while he
+trembled in every limb. "I didn't think it would cut you up so. Any one
+would think," he added, with a sad smile, "that it was your father's
+death I'd been talking about instead of mine."
+
+"Yes, my father"--and the boy gave a little, stifled laugh. "I--I've
+been putting myself in your place, you see. How was it the spy got
+away?"
+
+"He was tried by court-martial, but nothing could be proved against him,
+you see; for my father was the principal witness, and he was at the
+bottom of the sea."
+
+"At the bottom of the sea," repeated the boy, as a tear stole slowly
+down his cheek. "And you don't know what became of the spy?"
+
+"Oh, I suppose he returned to his own country after that," said Paul
+carelessly; for he did not want to tell Hibbert his suspicions that
+Zuker was still in England and not so far away. "But be off now, and
+have a good run in the open. You've had enough of my yarn, and will be
+dreaming about spies and drowning all night."
+
+Hibbert brushed the tear from his eye. It seemed as though his heart
+were too full for speech; for he went out without a word.
+
+"What a sensitive little chap he is!" thought Paul. "He was full to
+overflowing as I told him that story. I wonder what his people are
+like?"
+
+He got up as he spoke and went out. A throng of boys were playing in the
+grounds. Too absorbed in their games, they took no notice of Paul, for
+which he was devoutly thankful. He walked out of the grounds, along the
+road leading to St. Bede's. Scarcely noticing the direction in which he
+was travelling, he was rudely awakened from his reverie by the shout of
+"A Gargoyle--a Gargoyle!" And before he could move a step farther he
+found himself surrounded by a dozen boys, who danced wildly round him,
+shouting the name of contempt again and again, as though they were a
+band of savages, and had suddenly discovered a victim for the sacrifice.
+
+Paul saw at a glance that he had fallen into the hands of the enemy--in
+other words, into the hands of the rival school. There were senior boys
+and junior boys. Prominent amongst the latter he noticed Mellor, who was
+quite ecstatic with delight at having trapped a Gargoyle.
+
+"Why, hanged if it isn't the fellow who turned tail and ran!" cried one
+of the seniors.
+
+"Yes, Percival. Didn't you see that?" said Mellor.
+
+"So it is," came in a chorus.
+
+"The noble champion of the Gargoyles--ho, ho!" cried the senior.
+
+"Ho, ho!" came in a chorus, and they commenced dancing round Paul, in a
+wilder, madder fashion than before. "Ho, ho, ho! The noble champion of
+the Gargoyles."
+
+"'And he bared his big right arm,'" cried one, when this chorus had
+ceased.
+
+"And cried aloud, 'Come on,'" shouted another.
+
+    "Come one, come all, this rock shall fly
+    From its firm base sooner than I!"
+
+shouted a third.
+
+A scream of laughter greeted this sally, and then the dancing was
+resumed to the old chorus.
+
+"Ho, ho! ho! The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"
+
+Paul stood motionless as a statue and as white as one in the midst of
+the jeering, mocking throng. He made no answer to the jibes, but waited
+until they had exhausted themselves. It was some time before that
+happened. At length the cries grew feebler, the wild dancing slackened.
+
+"Well, have you nearly finished?" Paul asked.
+
+"Listen. The noble champion of the Gargoyles is speaking. He's got a
+tongue," exclaimed the senior who had first spoken.
+
+"And legs as well," said a second.
+
+"And doesn't he know how to use them!" added a third--an observation
+which drew out another shriek of laughter. From white Paul turned
+scarlet.
+
+To keep silent under provocation, more especially provocation that is
+undeserved, is one of the hardest lessons that can be learned, boys and
+girls. Paul was only a boy, with a boy's impulses, passions, and
+feelings. But some time was to pass before he was to learn the great
+lesson of how to keep these passions under perfect control--and many
+things were to happen in the interval--but he had begun the task. Rough
+and bitter though the schooling was, in no better way could the lesson
+have been taught than in that school of adversity through which he was
+now passing.
+
+"When you've quite finished," said Paul, as they once more came to a
+pause, "I would like to go on my way."
+
+"Where? To the sand-pit?" came a voice.
+
+"No; he'd rather keep away from that. He'll always give that a pretty
+wide berth," some one answered.
+
+"Why not take him there? He doesn't know what a nice place it is for a
+picnic."
+
+The suggestion was hailed with delight.
+
+"The sand-pit--the sand-pit!" was the cry.
+
+Immediately a rush was made for Paul. It was more than flesh and blood
+could stand. Paul had kept wonderfully calm and cool up to the moment;
+but directly they tried to put hands upon him he struck out right and
+left. With so much vigour did he strike that he might have made his way
+through the howling, struggling pack, but just at the moment he had got
+himself free, Mellor, who was one of those who had been knocked to the
+ground, caught him by the legs and brought him with a crash to the
+ground.
+
+"On him--on him!" was the cry.
+
+"Back--back! Cowards all!"
+
+At the instant they were about to seize Paul a figure dashed into their
+midst, scattering the struggling pack to right and left.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+WYNDHAM AGAIN TO THE RESCUE
+
+
+"Back, back! Twelve to one--cowards, cowards!"
+
+The Bedes fell back as the youth fell among them, and cleared a passage
+to Paul. Paul, momentarily stunned by his fall, breathed freely again,
+and leapt to his feet.
+
+"Why, it's Percival!" said the new-comer. "Are you hurt?"
+
+Paul could scarcely believe his eyes, as he found himself again
+confronting Gilbert Wyndham.
+
+"No, thanks," he answered stiffly.
+
+He would rather have been indebted to any one than to Wyndham. He had
+wished to clear off the debt between them, but instead of that he found
+himself more indebted to him than ever. For a second time he had been
+placed under an obligation to him.
+
+"You don't see who it is, Wyndham," came a voice from the ranks of the
+Bedes, disappointed of their prey. "It's a Gargoyle--the wretched
+Gargoyle who showed such a clean pair of heels at the sand-pit."
+
+"Yes, I do see who it is; but, whoever he is, that's no reason why a
+dozen of you should set on him at once. That's not fair play, Murrell."
+
+"Half a dozen of 'em set on me," came the voice of Mellor. "What's good
+enough for the Gargoyles ought to be good enough for us."
+
+"That's just where you're wrong, Mellor," answered Wyndham coolly.
+"What's good enough for a Gargoyle isn't good enough for a Bede--is it,
+Bedes?"
+
+A murmur of ready assent went up at this appeal--from all except Mellor.
+
+"You see, you are half a Gargoyle yourself, Mellor, or you would have
+known that. You belong to the amphibia at present. When you've grown out
+of that you will know better, won't he, Bedes?"
+
+A laugh went up--from all except Mellor. The storm which had looked
+threatening began to clear under the ready tact of Wyndham. Still, the
+boys did not like the idea of letting Paul go scot-free.
+
+"Yes, you'll know better than that by-and-by, Mellor," said the youth
+addressed as Murrell. "Your education was neglected as a Gargoyle.
+You'll improve as you go along. But, I say, Wyndham, what are you going
+to do with the specimen you've got? You can't stick it in the museum,
+you know. So turn it over to us again. We won't hurt it. We'll only give
+it a run to the sand-pit, and a roll down. It will do it good. Eating
+sand is better than eating dirt."
+
+"Yes, hand him over," came in a chorus.
+
+"No," came the decided answer, as Wyndham twined his arm in Paul's. "The
+Gargoyle is my property."
+
+"What are you going to do with him?" demanded Murrell.
+
+"I want to have a little quiet talk with him, that's all."
+
+What could Wyndham want with a little quiet talk with a Gargoyle? It
+could only be for one purpose--to gather information which might be of
+use to the Bedes in any future campaign against Garside. So the boys
+reluctantly turned away, and left Wyndham and Paul together.
+
+"Why have you come a second time to my help?" came in a choking voice
+from Paul when they were alone.
+
+"Really, I don't know," smiled Wyndham. "Does it matter much? Do you
+mind?"
+
+"Mind! After what happened at the sand-pit the other day. Mind! I would
+rather have been under an obligation to any one than you."
+
+"Do you mean it?" asked Wyndham, now quite grave.
+
+"Of course I do. I was never more in earnest in my life. I had hoped to
+clear off the debt that was between us, and now you have placed me in
+your debt a second time."
+
+"If you mean by debt that little service I was only too pleased to do
+for you at the well, I thought it was quite cleared off."
+
+"How?"
+
+"By the service you did for me at the sand-pit the other day."
+
+"You are mocking me?"
+
+"I was never more serious in my life," answered Wyndham, using Paul's
+words. "When I saw you standing before me at the sand-pit--saw who your
+fellows had selected as their champion--I was staggered. You were the
+last in the world I dreamt of seeing. I could see that you were
+bewildered, but not more than I was. I knew not how to act. Fight you?
+Impossible! Go away--turn on my heel? That seemed impossible, too. I
+should be stamped as a coward. I could not explain, because that would
+have meant giving away your secret. Then, as the thoughts flashed
+through my mind, you solved the riddle. You had the courage to do what I
+couldn't--you walked away."
+
+Paul regarded Wyndham in wonder. The thoughts which had passed through
+Wyndham's mind were almost the same thoughts that had passed through
+his. The same struggle had gone on in both. For the moment the hard,
+bitter feeling that had stirred within him softened, and he was on the
+point of holding out his hand, when he remembered that it meant clasping
+the one that had so severely punished Stanley.
+
+"I walked away," he echoed; "and then?"
+
+"Why, then," smiled Wyndham, "things couldn't have happened better. Some
+bounder amongst your mob was anxious to bound into your shoes. He jumped
+up in an awfully excited way, muttering something about 'the honour of
+the Form.' He insisted on fighting me, and I didn't mind in the least.
+You know how it ended."
+
+"Too well--too well," repeated Paul sadly. "Better far had I stayed.
+That was my friend you punished so."
+
+"Your friend!"
+
+"The best friend I had at Garside. We are friends no longer. Instead of
+that, he looks upon me now as his worst enemy, while all the school look
+upon me as a cur. But it isn't that I mind so much, it's losing the
+friendship of Stanley Moncrief."
+
+"I'm sorry. I did not dream things were as bad as that. Who is this
+Stanley Moncrief?"
+
+"He is the son of that gentleman for whom I took the letter to Redmead
+on the night you met me, and did me so great a service."
+
+"If it was a service, I've undone it now," answered Wyndham sorrowfully.
+"I could not have done a worse one than I did you at the sand-pit. Why
+couldn't you explain to your friend?"
+
+"I've tried to, but he won't listen. He is smarting under his defeat,
+and I don't wonder at it."
+
+There was silence between them for a minute or two, then Wyndham
+exclaimed:
+
+"Are you going back to Garside?"
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+"Because I am going with you. Moncrief won't listen to you. He will
+listen to me."
+
+"No, no!" said Paul firmly. "It is very kind of you, but I would rather
+not. If Stanley Moncrief and I are ever to be friends again, he will
+have to find out for himself that I'm not the cur he thinks me. I've
+tried to explain, but he would not hear. I shall never try again, unless
+he comes round and asks me."
+
+"I think you are right," said Wyndham, after a pause. "None the less,
+I'm sorry--deeply sorry--that you should have lost your friend through
+me."
+
+"Oh, things will work round presently," said Paul lightly. "I suppose,
+after that affair at the sand-pit, you were quite the hero of your
+school?"
+
+"I don't know about hero. They made a lot of fuss over me, because, as
+you know well enough, there's no love lost between us and Garside. But
+if anybody deserves to be the hero of a school, it is you."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+"It is easy enough to flow with the tide, but awfully hard to struggle
+against it. That's what you're doing just now, Percival."
+
+He walked with Percival for some distance on the road to Garside, and
+when they separated they shook hands, unaware of the fact that they had
+been seen by one of the Third Form. After Wyndham's explanation, how was
+it possible for Paul to refuse the hand held out to him?
+
+Now, Stanley Moncrief was at this time in his dormitory, very miserable.
+He had been so, in fact, ever since he had broken with Paul. He had a
+real affection for him. He had loved him as he might have loved a
+brother; then, after his defeat at the sand-pit, he felt that there was
+only one thing to be done, and that was to--hate him. So he had broken
+off the friendship, and rushed into the arms of the two whom he
+disliked--Newall and Parfitt.
+
+But when Stanley began to reflect a little more deeply, he began to see
+that he could not altogether shake off the old link that bound him to
+Paul. He had always been comfortable and at ease with him--could sit
+with him, as it were, in his shirt-sleeves and slippers. He had felt at
+home with him from the first day they met. He could not feel the same
+with Newall or Parfitt, try as he might. He seemed to be ever acting a
+part when he was with them, and they seemed to be doing the same when
+they were with him. For instance, he would have liked to have read the
+letter Paul sent him by Waterman; but the eyes of Newall were upon him,
+so he tore it up in bravado, and scattered the fragments in the way
+already described. It was not Stanley's real self did that--he was
+acting a part.
+
+Again, when Paul entered the common room, looking so sad and miserable,
+Stanley's heart prompted him to stay and speak to his old friend.
+Perhaps he might have done so had he been alone; but he felt that the
+eyes of the others were upon him, especially Newall's. Something was
+expected of him. He was to give the lead; so he gave the lead, by
+walking from the room, and the rest followed him, with the solitary
+exception of Waterman.
+
+Then he joined in the laughter and the jeers of his new-found friends
+when they got outside, all at the expense of Paul. Again, Stanley was
+acting a part. At heart he felt miserable. The sadness of Paul's face
+haunted him, and as soon as he could he escaped from his companions to
+the solitude of the dormitory.
+
+He had been puzzled all along how it was Paul had acted in such a
+cowardly way at the sand-pit. He knew that he had no love for fighting;
+but once having taken up the gage of battle, he was not one to shrink
+from it. What was it his father had said? That no braver youth could be
+found than Paul Percival. His uncle had the same opinion, and they were
+not the men to make mistakes. Had his nature suddenly altered, or what
+had happened? More and more he regretted that he had not opened Paul's
+letter. It might have given him the answer to the riddle.
+
+So Stanley sat on the side of the bed for a long time, very miserable.
+Indeed, I very much question whether of the two he was not the more
+miserable. It is true that nearly all Paul's companions dropped away
+from him; but perhaps it was better to lose companions than to have
+those you did not really want.
+
+"It is all a hideous mistake. I'll go and make it up with Paul," he
+thought.
+
+As he was thus thinking, the door opened, and his cousin entered.
+
+"Well, Harry, what do you want?" he asked gruffly, as though resenting
+the intrusion.
+
+Harry eyed him for a moment without answering.
+
+"Can't you speak? Have you lost your tongue, Harry?"
+
+"I saw Percival a little while ago, Stan."
+
+"Well--what of it? What's that to me?"
+
+"Nothing much, I suppose."
+
+"Where did you see him?"
+
+"Not very far from here. He was with that fellow--that beastly
+Beetle--who fought with you."
+
+"What were they doing?"
+
+"Oh, they were walking and talking together--very chummy. When they
+left, they shook hands--almost kissed each other."
+
+"Shook hands! You are sure?"
+
+"Positive."
+
+"Run off, youngster. Leave me," cried Stanley hoarsely.
+
+Harry ran out, wondering at the effect his information had had upon his
+cousin.
+
+"Shook hands with him!" echoed Stanley, as he sank with a groan upon the
+bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE CHASM WIDENS
+
+
+Unintentionally Harry Moncrief had made deeper the chasm between the
+one-time friends. It was quite evident to Stanley, from Harry's
+description of what he had witnessed, that there was an understanding
+between Paul and Wyndham, otherwise they would never have shaken hands
+with each other. The fact that Paul could take the hand of one who had
+thrashed him set the blood tingling in Stanley's veins. That showed
+plainly enough that Paul was on friendly terms with his enemy--with an
+enemy of the school. What was to be done?
+
+Stanley got up and paced the room. The softer feelings that had been
+working in his breast vanished.
+
+"I will never speak to Paul Percival again--never!" he said fiercely.
+"Perhaps the whole of that business at the sand-pit was a trap of his
+into which I was fool enough to fall. How else could they have shaken
+hands together?"
+
+It seemed to him, thus blinded by suspicion against his friend, that it
+could only have one meaning--they were gloating over his defeat.
+
+Meanwhile, Harry Moncrief had no sooner descended the stairs leading
+from the dormitories than he came sharply into contact with Plunger, who
+was hurrying along the corridor as though he were rushing full speed up
+a cricket pitch to prevent himself from being run out.
+
+"Hallo, Harry, just the fellow I was looking for!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Are you, Freddy? Then I wish you'd look for me with your eyes instead
+of your elbows," answered Harry, rubbing his ribs, which were aching
+from the blow they had just received from the boniest part of Plunger's
+elbows. "What is it?"
+
+"You know that twaddle in the _Gargoyle Record_ about the poet being
+stuck for a rhyme to 'hunger'?"
+
+"Yes," laughed Harry, as he recalled Plunger's confusion when the
+paragraph was read aloud in the common room.
+
+"What are you grinning at? You don't mean to say you saw anything funny
+in it?"
+
+"Oh, no; but you're bound to laugh when the other fellows laugh, you
+know. It's like the measles--catching. I'm all right now. Go on. You
+were saying----"
+
+"I believe that paragraph was sent in to the editor--Dick Jessel, you
+know--by Baldry."
+
+"Oh! What makes you think that?"
+
+"He's been worrying about rhymes ever since that paragraph was read
+out--that's why. You see, he sent in the paragraph so that he might have
+another shot at me with the answer. Baldry's a deep 'un."
+
+"But why should he send in paragraphs to the _Record_ against you?"
+
+"Well, I make fun of his name, so he's trying to score off me in return.
+But he can't do it, for 'Plunger's' no sort of rhyme to 'hunger.' And
+there's another thing I've got to tell you in confidence, Harry. I
+believe that cartoon of me on the Forum window was Baldry's work."
+
+"Oh!" answered Harry drily. "What makes you think that?"
+
+"Baldry once said that if the glue business failed"--Plunger's father
+was a glue and size merchant in a large way of business--"I could always
+pick up my living as an artist's model."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Well, he had the cheek to tell me I had a funny sort of face. And
+Baldry's smart with the pencil, you know; so, putting this and that
+together, I believe Master Baldry not only sent in that paragraph to the
+_Record_, but put my face on the Forum window."
+
+"Very wrong of him, Freddy," said Harry sympathetically. "What are you
+going to do with him?"
+
+"Well, I've got a lovely old basket, once the property of a dear and
+highly-respected friend of yours, Mrs. Trounce, and this basket is
+filled with a lovely collection of feathers. Along with these feathers
+will be mixed a little glutinous substance, as the chemistry master
+calls it, which I brought last term from the pater's works. This basket
+will be fixed directly over the Forum door, by means of a string, the
+end of which will be held by some one hidden in a tree at the back of
+the Forum. That some one in the tree will be you. Are you listening?"
+
+"Ra-ther. That some one in the tree will be me. Go on."
+
+"My dearly beloved and much respected chum, Sammy Baldry, will receive a
+message calling him to the Forum at half-past six. Someone will be at
+the side of the Forum, so as to know the exact moment Baldry appears on
+the scene. Directly he nears the door that some one will whistle. That
+will be a signal to you up in the tree. Baldhead will open the door.
+Then you'll pull the string. Over will go the basket, and down will come
+the pretty feathers over Baldhead. In the information Baldry was good
+enough to supply to the _Gargoyle Record_, affectionate inquiries were
+made, you remember, after the Missing Link, last seen in all his native
+beauty in the Forum. What price for Baldry, eh? When he gets these
+feathers on him he'll be a puzzle. No one will be able to tell which
+kingdom he belongs to--animal, vegetable, or mineral."
+
+And Plunger chuckled so that it seemed as though he would never be able
+to stop himself. Just to keep him company, Harry chuckled too.
+
+"Splendid little joke, isn't it, Harry?"
+
+"Splendid."
+
+"I told you what fun you'd have when you got to Garside. Better than
+Gaffer Quelch's, eh? Things were awfully slow there, weren't they,
+Harry?"
+
+"Awfully."
+
+But, so far as fun was concerned, Harry couldn't see that he had had
+very much of it, except at his own expense. Plunger had, in fact, made
+him his butt, and now he wished to score off Baldry through his
+instrumentality.
+
+"I didn't quite understand you, Freddy," said Harry presently, as
+Plunger went on chuckling. "Who do you say was to be up in the tree at
+the back of the Forum and pull the string?"
+
+"You, Harry. I'm giving you the post of honour, because you deserve it.
+Baldry has poked fun at you a lot. Now it's your turn, old fellow."
+
+"It's very kind of you, Freddy--it really is. I don't know how to be
+grateful enough. I'm to be in the tree, you say: but where will you be?"
+
+"Oh, I'll do the whistling."
+
+"The whistling?"
+
+"Yes, to let you know up in the tree when Baldry comes along. Then,
+directly Baldry opens the door, you pull the string, and--there you are.
+Baldry in full plumage. It's all clear enough, isn't it?"
+
+"All clear enough;--but----"
+
+"But what? You're not going to cry off, are you?"
+
+"I'm not going to cry off; but suppose we change places."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"You go up the tree and do the pulling, and let me do the whistling."
+
+"Why, it'll be ever so much more fun to pull the string. I want to give
+you the best position, you see."
+
+"I know you do, Freddy. I know your good nature; but I'm not going to
+let you make the sacrifice. I'll do the whistling."
+
+"Very well, if you wish it. I don't mind which I do," said Plunger, in a
+lofty tone. "Only don't make a mess of it."
+
+"Oh, my part's so simple, I can't make a mess of it. Mind you don't make
+a mess of yours, Freddy."
+
+Now Harry decided, immediately on quitting Plunger, that he would
+acquaint Baldry with the joke that Plunger intended to play upon him. It
+was he who had drawn that cartoon in the Forum that had stirred Plunger
+to wrath, and Harry came to the conclusion that it was not right that
+Baldry should suffer for him. Besides, as Plunger had so often scored
+over him, he thought it only right that he should begin to equalize
+matters. So he hunted up Baldry, and informed him of Plunger's kind
+intentions towards him.
+
+"Oh," said Baldry, when Harry had ended, "that's Plunger's little game,
+is it? I thought he was getting a bit cross, but I didn't think he
+meant showing his teeth. The beauty of it is, I hadn't anything to do
+with that portrait of him on the Forum window. I know no more about it
+than you do."
+
+"Than I do!" echoed Harry, smiling to himself.
+
+"He made a better guess when he told you that I inspired those
+paragraphs in the _Record_. I just gave a hint to Jowett. Jowett passed
+it on to Jessel, and Jessel put in the smart bits that touched Plunger
+on the raw. Plunger's all right when he's going for other people, but he
+doesn't like it when others go for him."
+
+Harry quite sympathized with this view of things.
+
+"There's my name," went on Baldry. "I can't help my name. I didn't
+christen myself, and was never asked whether I liked it or not. That's
+the worst of names. You never are consulted. It's all done for you by
+your ancestors, and your godfathers and godmothers--and people of that
+sort. I don't know why it should be, but it is; and there you are--fixed
+up for life with a name, unless you happen to be a girl, and get
+married, then you drop it for another, but it may be ever so much worse
+than the one you've got. Now, what I say is this--Baldry isn't such a
+bad name, as names go, is it, Moncrief?"
+
+"Better than Plunger, any day," remarked Harry, in his most sympathetic
+manner.
+
+"Better than Plunger, as you say, Moncrief. Where Plunger's ancestors
+picked up a name like that, goodness only knows. It must have come out
+of the Ark. And yet he's always calling me 'Baldhead,' 'Bladder of
+Lard,' 'The Lost Hair,' and telling me to go in for hair-restorer,
+Tatcho, and making feeble jokes of that sort. But I think I went one
+better when I got that paragraph in the _Record_, eh?"
+
+"Yes, Baldry you scored there; but what we've got to think about is, how
+to prevent Plunger from scoring back. Some one will have to go to the
+Forum in answer to his invitation, when it comes. It won't matter who,
+because Plunger won't be able to see; he'll be up in the tree, waiting
+for my whistle. So who's to be the victim?"
+
+Baldry became thoughtful. He ran through the list of his acquaintances
+whom he thought most deserving of the honour that Plunger proposed to
+bestow on him. He thought of one or two in his form who might have been
+available for his purpose, but it was just possible that they were in
+the confidence of Plunger. So he turned from his own form to the
+Fifth--"the bounders of the Fifth."
+
+"I've got it," he suddenly exclaimed. "Percival!"
+
+"Percival!" echoed Harry.
+
+"Yes; that's the ticket; the very thing--Percival. If it comes off all
+right, it'll be a big hit. We shall be covered with glory, and he'll be
+covered with feathers--ha, ha! It couldn't be better. Do you see how it
+fits in? A nice little present of feathers for the fellow who showed the
+white feather at the sand-pit. Isn't it splendid, Moncrief?"
+
+Harry was silent. Percival had been far from his thoughts. He never
+imagined that Baldry would suggest Percival. For the moment his mind
+went back to that night when Paul came to Redmead. Once again he could
+hear the low, earnest tones of his father--"Many thanks for the great
+service you have done, Paul. You have not only done a great service for
+me and my brother, but for your country."
+
+"Well, Moncrief; why don't you answer?" came the voice of Baldry. "It's
+the finest idea that has come to me for a long time. Feathers for the
+fellow who showed the white feather."
+
+At the words, the image of his father faded from Harry's mind. He could
+no longer hear the echo of his words. He only saw his cousin's bleeding
+face as he rose vanquished from the sand-pit; and, side by side with
+that picture, he saw Percival walking and talking, and shaking hands
+with "the wretched Beetle--Wyndham," as he had seen him walking and
+talking and shaking hands with him that afternoon.
+
+"A fine idea--splendid!" he cried. "Nothing could be better. Let
+Percival be the victim."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+HATCHING A PLOT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT
+
+
+"Nothing could be better. Let Percival be the victim!"
+
+Scarcely were the words out of Harry's lips than Viner come up to Baldry
+with the notice he was expecting. It was a hectograph copy, announcing
+that a meeting of the more important members of the Third Form would be
+held in the Forum at half-past six prompt to consider a matter of
+pressing importance.
+
+Baldry thanked Viner. Viner smirked and retreated.
+
+"Viner's in the know, that's certain," said Baldry, when he was out of
+earshot. "Viner's a crawler."
+
+Harry had no great reason to like Viner. It was he who had gone behind
+him on the day that he had entered Garside, so that Newall might push
+him over his back. From that incident the quarrel had arisen between
+Stanley and Newall, and other troubles had followed in its train.
+
+"You're right there; but now what's to be done?"
+
+"Oh, that's easy enough. We've only got to rub out 'Third Form' and put
+in 'Fifth,' and then send it on to Percival; and there you are."
+
+With the aid of a knife and some hectograph ink this alteration was soon
+made. The next question was how to get it to Percival without arousing
+suspicion. As they were considering this point Baldry caught sight of
+Hibbert crossing the ground.
+
+"There's our messenger," he exclaimed. Then he shouted, "Hibbert,
+Hibbert!"
+
+Hibbert looked round. Baldry beckoned him, and he came to where they
+were standing.
+
+"I want you to give this note to Percival. If he asks you where it came
+from, tell him he will see inside. Then come away. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes," said Hibbert, looking suspiciously at the note.
+
+"Well, run along. It won't bite you."
+
+Hibbert went off reluctantly with the note. It seemed now as though he
+were as anxious as the rest to avoid Paul. At any rate, he kept out of
+his way, but he could not very well refuse Baldry's request.
+
+He found Paul by himself, as usual, in the writing-room. He had
+commenced work in downright earnest on the prize essay.
+
+"Hallo, Hibbert, is that you?" he asked, looking up as the boy entered.
+"What have you got there?"
+
+Hibbert handed him the notice without a word, but did not beat a retreat
+according to the instructions he had received.
+
+"Another meeting of the Fifth," Paul said, as much to himself as to
+Hibbert, when he had glanced at the note. "I wonder they trouble to send
+to me. It is too great an honour!"
+
+No suspicion as to the genuineness of the note crossed his mind. It was
+quite usual for Sedgefield, who acted as hon. sec. for the Fifth, to
+send out his notices with a messenger from the junior forms.
+
+"What's too great an honour, may I ask?" said Hibbert timidly.
+
+Paul explained to him the contents of the notice.
+
+"It's to call me over the coals again, I expect. Shall I go or shan't
+I?" he asked himself. Then, turning smilingly to the boy: "What would
+you do if you were in my place, Hibbert?"
+
+"Stay away," said the boy promptly.
+
+"And improve my reputation for courage--eh? Why would you stay away?"
+
+Having so far exceeded his instructions, Hibbert thought he might as
+well go a little further.
+
+"Because I don't believe that the Fifth had anything to do with that
+notice. It came from Baldry and Moncrief minor. I believe it's a trick."
+
+Paul, beginning to smell a rat, examined the notice with closer
+attention, and soon detected the erasion where "Fifth" had been
+substituted for "Third Form."
+
+"Thanks, Hibbert. I don't know why you should, but you're always doing
+me a good turn."
+
+"Not half the good turns you've done me," said the boy earnestly, as he
+went out.
+
+"What's in the wind?" Paul asked himself, when he was alone. "Bitter as
+Stanley is against me, he can't have set on his cousin to hoax and poke
+fun at me. Surely not?"
+
+What was it, then? He could not guess; but it seemed to him that he must
+have sunk very low indeed in the eyes of the school when he had become a
+target for the junior forms.
+
+"I must put my foot down on that nonsense," he said to himself, as he
+paced to and fro the room.
+
+At first he thought of making straight for Baldry and Moncrief minor,
+and demanding what it meant; but on second thoughts he decided against
+that course, because it would mean mischief to Hibbert. His life at the
+school would be made more miserable than it was.
+
+"The best thing after all will be to face it--to accept the invitation
+of Masters Moncrief and Baldry to the Forum to-night. I run the risk of
+being laughed at, I know, but I'm getting fairly used to that. And it's
+just possible I may be able to turn the tables."
+
+Having come to this decision, Paul did the wisest thing possible under
+the circumstances--dismissed the matter from his mind, and went on with
+his work.
+
+Now it so happened that a meeting of the Fifth had really been called
+for that evening in the Forum, and still stranger to relate, for the
+express purpose of discussing Paul. The information that he had been
+seen in the company of Wyndham, and had actually shaken hands with him,
+had quickly spread, and the meeting of the Fifth had been called for the
+express purpose of considering this further development in the feud
+between the Beetles and the Gargoyles. No notice of this meeting had,
+however, been sent to Paul.
+
+So it was that about the time Paul was getting ready to go to the Forum,
+little suspecting the proposed meeting, Newall had already started for
+it, just as ignorant of the little plot that had been hatched by certain
+members of the Third. Leveson had had some lines which had kept him late
+in the class-room, and Newall had taken his place in getting the shed
+ready for the meeting. Thus it happened he was in advance of the rest.
+
+It was quite dark as Newall made his way to the shed. Harry Moncrief was
+hiding at the side, with his whistle between his teeth. The figure
+coming towards the shed in the darkness he took to be the figure of
+Paul.
+
+"He's up to time," he chuckled to himself. "He's fallen into the trap
+beautifully."
+
+Newall reached the door of the shed, opened it, and passed in.
+Simultaneously Harry blew the whistle. At the signal, Plunger pulled the
+string which communicated with the basket immediately over the doorway,
+sending its contents showering down on the head of Newall.
+
+Newall gasped and staggered in the darkness, striking out wildly with
+his arms. He had a confused idea that some enormous bird of prey had
+suddenly swooped down from the roof, and was flapping its wings over his
+head.
+
+"Ooshter--ooshter! Get out of it!" he gasped, as he reeled about and
+struck out wildly at his imaginary foe.
+
+Meantime Plunger had slid down quickly from the tree, and, accompanied
+by Viner and Bember, who had been awaiting the signal in the rear,
+rushed round to the front. The three held on to the door, so as to keep
+their victim floundering about in the darkness till they saw fit to
+release him.
+
+"Splendid; couldn't be better," chuckled Plunger. "My, isn't old Baldy
+carrying on?"
+
+His companions could not answer. They were doing their best to smother
+their laughter.
+
+"My, he's carrying on awful!" went on Plunger. "Breaking up the happy
+home. Didn't think Baldy had so much spring in him. Seems to be all over
+the shop. Do you hear him, Moncrief? Where is Moncrief?"
+
+Moncrief had made himself scarce. He had retreated to a safe distance,
+where Baldry was awaiting him. By the time he reached him, he, too, was
+exploding with laughter.
+
+"Well, what's happened?" asked Baldry.
+
+"Oh, don't ask me. It's too funny for words."
+
+"Percival's inside?"
+
+"Percival's inside, ramping about like mad, and Plunger, Viner, and
+Bember are holding the door outside like grim death, and laughing like
+hyenas over 'old Baldy.' Good, isn't it?"
+
+On that Baldry was seized with a fit of laughter too.
+
+"Good? The best joke we've had at Garside for a long time," answered
+Baldry, between gasps. "My, what will happen when they find out their
+mistake? What will they say when they see Percival stagger out instead
+of 'old Baldy?'"
+
+"Plunger will stagger the most of the two, I reckon," laughed Harry.
+
+"I just reckon he will."
+
+"And I reckon also that he'd better keep out of the reach of Percival."
+
+"Percival!" echoed Baldry contemptuously. "Percival may ramp a good
+deal, but he's not likely to do much, I'm thinking, after his exhibition
+at the sand-pits. Percival is----"
+
+"I beg pardon, but did I hear some one mention my name?" came a quiet
+voice in the rear of Baldry.
+
+Both boys turned promptly round at the voice. To their amazement
+Percival was standing before them.
+
+"Per--Percival!" exclaimed Harry.
+
+"Per--Percival!" echoed Baldry.
+
+"I happened to be strolling this way, and thought I heard my name; but
+perhaps I was mistaken."
+
+The boys could not speak. They could only stare with open mouths at
+Percival. It was a shadowy figure that stood before them in the
+darkness. Was it indeed Percival, or was it his ghost?
+
+"Y--y--yes; we--we--were speaking about you," stammered Baldry, at
+length. "We--were--just wondering--how you were getting on."
+
+"It's very kind of you to think of me," said Paul, with a quiet smile.
+
+Paul, quite ignorant of what had transpired in the shed, thought for the
+moment whether he had better tackle Baldry and Moncrief minor then and
+there as to their motive in desiring him to go to the shed, but on
+second thoughts he decided to find out for himself; so he passed on.
+
+"Pinch me--punch me--kick me", exclaimed Harry. "Am I awake or am I
+dreaming, Baldry?"
+
+"It was Percival right enough."
+
+"Then who--who's--in--the shed?" gasped Harry, a cold perspiration
+coming to his brow.
+
+"What an idiotic question to ask me," retorted Baldry indignantly. "You
+ought to know best. Are you sure there's anybody in the shed at all?"
+
+"I'm sure of that. And--and--I could have sworn it was Percival."
+
+"You've made a nice mess of it."
+
+"Well, if I have made a mess of it, I've kept you out of it," retorted
+Harry, beginning to feel sore at the tone taken by Baldry. "After all,
+Plunger and the others will be taken in a good deal more than we've
+been, remember. He still thinks it's you he's got a prisoner."
+
+"Ah, yes, so he does," exclaimed Baldry, breaking into laughter again;
+"I'd forgotten that. When that door opens it'll be one of the best
+little surprise packets Plunger's ever had in his life. Hallo, here
+comes a lot of the Fifth fellows, and they seem making for the shed,
+too!"
+
+The shadowy figures of Arbery, Parfitt, Hasluck, and a couple of others
+passed within a short distance of where the two boys were standing. They
+were conversing eagerly together.
+
+There was silence between them for a moment; then an unearthly yell rose
+on the air.
+
+"Goodness! What was that? Enough to lift your hair off, wasn't it,
+Moncrief?"
+
+Harry did not answer. He was trying to pierce the darkness to see what
+was happening in the direction of the shed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE LAST BOND OF FRIENDSHIP
+
+
+While Harry had been explaining to Baldry what had happened at the shed,
+Plunger and his two companions held fast to the door, under the
+impression that Baldry was within. Plunger was in a high state of glee
+at the capture he had made, and as soon as Harry had gone commenced
+crowing loudly, explaining as he did so that "as old Baldy seemed to be
+going in for dancing, he must give him a tune to dance to."
+
+"Put the soft pedal on for a bit, Freddy," said Viner. "He's saying
+things to himself. Let's listen."
+
+Plunger, who had nearly crowed himself hoarse, kept silent for a moment,
+as a smothered voice from within travelled through the door.
+
+"Open the door--open the door!"
+
+"Keep your wool on, Baldy!" retorted Plunger, in his most provoking
+tones. "Drop the clog-dancing, and give us a song; it's getting
+monotonous. What's the best rhyme for Baldy? How're the birds, beasts,
+and fishes getting on? What's the kingdom you've sprinted to--animal,
+vegetable, or mineral? Any more paragraphs for Jessell? We'll take them
+along."
+
+"Open the door! I'll--I'll smash you when I get out of this!" came the
+voice from within.
+
+"Smash us? Oh, oh, Baldy!" commenced Plunger, but Viner stopped him.
+
+"Quiet, Freddy. Listen a moment. It doesn't sound to me like Baldy."
+
+"Will you open that door? I'll pay you out for this! I'll--I'll----"
+
+"Why--why, it's Newall!" whispered Plunger, aghast. "How's he got in
+there?"
+
+"Don't ask me," said Viner, turning cold, for he had always been on
+particularly good terms with Newall.
+
+"Can there be two of them in there, do you think?" suggested Bember.
+
+"Ah, I see it all!" said Plunger, a light beginning to dawn upon him.
+"Moncrief minor's let us in for this. That's the reason he's bolted."
+
+"Seems to me we'd better bolt too," exclaimed Bember. "There won't be
+much left of you, Freddy, if Newall gets hold of you."
+
+"What price you? You're just as much in it as I am."
+
+But Bember's advice commended itself to Plunger and Viner, neither of
+whom was desirous of meeting their captive when he was released, so,
+suddenly letting go their hold of the door, they bolted with all speed
+in the direction of the school.
+
+Newall continued shouting his threats at the top of his voice for a few
+moments before he discovered that no one was on guard outside; then he
+flung open the door, and dashed through with a yell, just as Arbery,
+Parfitt, Hasluck, and others of the Fifth had started for the shed. They
+came to a sudden stop when they saw the extraordinary figure that rushed
+towards them in the darkness. And well they might, for Newall, smothered
+in feathers from head to foot, presented one of the most extraordinary
+sights it is possible to imagine.
+
+"What is it?" asked Arbery, in an awestruck whisper.
+
+"Ask me another. It--it looks like----"
+
+But before Hasluck could explain what it looked like Newall had dashed
+up to them.
+
+"Newall!" came the astonished cry.
+
+"Who--who's been doing this?" he cried, glaring fiercely round on his
+companions.
+
+"Doing what?" asked Hasluck.
+
+"Can't you see? Nearly smothering me with feathers, and fastening me in
+the Forum."
+
+"We know nothing of it. We were just coming to the meeting when we heard
+the shouting," answered Parfitt, in an injured tone. "Is it likely we'd
+play a trick on you, Newall?"
+
+"It sounded like some of those imps of the Third. They were talking to
+me as if I were Baldry."
+
+At this moment Paul joined the group, wondering what was the matter.
+Directly Newall caught sight of him, he turned towards him fiercely:
+
+"Do you know anything of this? Had you a hand in it?"
+
+"I don't know what you are talking about," answered Paul coldly.
+
+"Of course not. You never do when it suits your purpose. Can we believe
+anything from the fellow who shakes hands with a Beetle--with the enemy
+of Garside?" came the sneering answer.
+
+Paul staggered back as though he had been struck. Some one had seen him
+shake hands with Wyndham then, and, without knowing the facts, his
+enemies were already putting the worst possible construction on it.
+Stanley had joined the group as Newall was speaking.
+
+"If you can't believe anything I say, what's the use of asking me
+questions? It seems to me a waste of breath."
+
+"Did you or did you not set those fellows on to keep me in the shed?"
+demanded Newall hotly.
+
+"I'm not going to answer you," said Paul firmly.
+
+"Then perhaps you'll answer me," said Stanley, stepping forward to
+Newall's side, pale to the lips.
+
+Paul had not noticed his arrival, and did not know that he was present
+till he heard his voice. It stirred the old feeling of love and
+friendship within him, though there was little that was friendly in its
+tone.
+
+"Answer you what, Stan?" asked Paul, in softer tones.
+
+Stanley knew little of the grounds of the present dispute, but he
+guessed that he could not be far wrong in repeating the question that
+Newall had just put. So he repeated it.
+
+"Yes, I'll answer it," came Paul's response, "for whatever else you may
+think me guilty of, Stanley, I don't think you'll believe me guilty of
+telling a deliberate falsehood. I haven't set anybody on to keep Newall
+a prisoner in the shed, and, whatever has happened to him, I've had no
+hand in it."
+
+He spoke with such earnestness and sincerity that there was scarcely any
+one present, with perhaps the exception of Newall himself, who doubted
+him.
+
+"I think you can take Percival's word for it," said Stanley, turning to
+Newall.
+
+"Thanks so much for one crumb of confidence." Paul, in spite of himself,
+could not prevent a slight accent of bitterness creeping into his voice.
+"It is really very good of you to think that my word may be taken, and I
+hope you won't think me ungrateful."
+
+"If you say his word may be taken, Moncrief," said Newall, with a shrug
+of his shoulders, "that's enough. But as you have so much confidence in
+him, you'd better question him about the Beetle."
+
+"I was going to," answered Stanley, as, once more turning to Paul, he
+asked: "One of the fellows saw you speaking to a Beetle yesterday. Is
+that true?"
+
+"Quite true."
+
+"Shaking hands with him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Stanley groaned inwardly. He had hoped that it was a mistake--that his
+cousin's eyes had deceived him, but there was no mistake. It was only
+too true. He turned away, unable to hide the disappointment on his face.
+Paul caught a glimpse of it in spite of the darkness, and was about to
+speak, but Newall quickly interposed.
+
+"There's another question which Moncrief's modesty prevents him from
+asking," he said, with a sneer. "We've been given to understand that the
+Beetle you shook hands with is the same Beetle who knocked Moncrief
+about in the sand-pit. Is that true, too?"
+
+Paul was silent, as though he still stood to the resolution he had made
+not to answer Newall.
+
+"Is it--is it?" demanded Stanley, turning swiftly round again, his tone
+almost as fierce as Newall's had been.
+
+"Yes; it is true." Then he added in a lower voice: "There are things I
+can't explain. Will you meet me quietly, by yourself, just for a few
+minutes, Stanley?"
+
+"There's nothing I'm ashamed of. I've no secrets," came the proud, cold
+answer. "If you've anything to explain, explain it now--in the presence
+of my friend Newall and the rest!"
+
+"My friend Newall!" The words froze up all the warmer feelings in Paul's
+breast. It was as though Stanley had taken a knife from his pocket, and
+with one cruel stroke severed the last bond of friendship between them,
+and had then bound with firmer hand the bonds that bound him to Newall.
+
+"Very well. If that is your last word, I've spoken my last word too."
+
+And Paul turned on his heel, leaving them to draw what conclusions they
+liked from his answer.
+
+Newall and his companions set to work removing the feathers which had
+descended on him in such a shower, and while they were actively engaged
+in it Waterman came leisurely along, late as usual, and drawled out:
+
+"Hallo, Newall! What's wrong? Been moulting?"
+
+Newall disdained to answer. It was some time before he got clear of the
+feathers, and then they left unmistakable marks.
+
+"It won't be long before I find out who served me this trick," he said;
+"but I don't think we want to go to the shed now over the other matter."
+
+"Newall's had more than enough of the shed already, seems to me,"
+drawled Waterman.
+
+"Dry up, Water. You're getting it on the brain," responded Newall
+gruffly.
+
+"I think Newall's quite right," said Stanley. "There's no need for any
+meeting now. We've found out that it's all true enough about
+Percival--that he has met a Beetle, that he has spoken to him, that he
+has shaken hands with him that he is on friendly terms with him. He's
+admitted it, so it's no use going to the shed."
+
+There was a murmur of assent.
+
+"Well, but you can't leave it at that. Something more must be done, else
+Percival will be laughing at us in his sleeve," said Parfitt.
+
+"Why not--why shouldn't we leave it at that?" said Waterman. "What's the
+use of worrying over trifles? Percival talks to a Beetle. Why on earth
+shouldn't he, if he likes it? Percival shakes hands with a Beetle.
+Again, I ask, where's the objection, so long as he doesn't want me to do
+it, or any other fellow in the Form. What's the use of making such an
+awful smoke?"
+
+"I think we'd better truss him with Waterman," suggested Newall.
+
+"That's better than being feathered anyhow," retorted Waterman coolly.
+
+"Come, what's to be done? We can't stay here all night," said Hasluck.
+"Leveson will be up presently with his stop-watch."
+
+"We oughtn't to have a fellow like Percival in the school," Parfitt
+commented. "The thing is how to get rid of him. We can't go up to Weevil
+and ask that he shall be turned out. And we can't do what we'd like to
+do--kick him out."
+
+"No, we can't very well do that," struck in Newall. "There's only one
+way."
+
+"What's that?" cried four or five in chorus.
+
+"Make it too warm for the school to hold him."
+
+"No, no; don't do that," came in quick, tense tones from Stanley. "I
+wouldn't like to be one to drive Percival from Garside."
+
+"Nor I," added Waterman, with unusual emphasis for him.
+
+"You!" retorted Newall contemptuously; "you don't count. Moncrief does.
+What's your objection, Moncrief?"
+
+"Percival was once my friend," came the sad answer.
+
+"Friend!" was the scornful reply.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+THE RAFT ON THE RIVER
+
+
+From this time every effort was made to make Paul's life at Garside
+unendurable. The dead set against him extended from the Fifth Form
+downwards. The views which Newall had expressed with so much force on
+the night he had been feathered reigned supreme throughout the school.
+It was felt that Paul had no place there, and that as he would not go of
+his own free will, it was the bounden duty of all of them to follow
+Newall's advice, and drive him from it. So the war against him was
+carried on--not so much openly as secretly--by every petty means that
+could be devised.
+
+Stanley, to his credit, took no part in this secret warfare against
+Paul. He had still some affection for him; but though he took no part in
+it, he made no effort to check it. The fact was that he was getting more
+and more under the thumb of Newall and Parfitt every day.
+
+Even Hibbert seemed to have deserted him. At any rate, Paul saw but
+little of him at this time, and when he did see him, the boy only
+greeted him with a wan, frightened smile, as though he were afraid to
+speak.
+
+Waterman was about the only one who showed no change of manner towards
+him. He was still quite friendly in his lazy fashion. It was he who had
+first given the hint to Paul of the movement on foot against him.
+
+"I may as well put you on your guard, Percival," he said, on the day
+following Newall's declaration against Paul. "You've put up the backs of
+all the Form, and a lot of fellows outside it. They're going for you.
+They mean driving you from Garside."
+
+"I thought something was on foot. Thanks for telling me."
+
+"Oh, you'd have soon found out, you know, without my telling you. But
+you needn't give me away. I only just mention it so that you may know
+what's in the wind. Don't worry. It's not worth it."
+
+With this characteristic piece of advice Waterman left him.
+
+"Trying to drive me from the school," Paul repeated to himself. "Well,
+they may try, and beat me in the long run, but they won't find it easy.
+'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.' By God's help I'll try to be true to the
+school motto."
+
+Having come to that determination, Paul set his teeth hard, and put his
+back to the wall. And so, though scarcely a day passed without bringing
+some fresh insult or tyranny, he still held firm to the position he had
+taken up--to the resolve he had made with himself and his God. It must
+be admitted, however, that the cup was sometimes very near to
+overflowing.
+
+His lot might have been easier to bear had he received some answer to
+the letter he had written to Mr. Moncrief; but as day followed day
+without any response, it seemed to him that Mr. Moncrief disdained
+writing to him, or did not think his letter worth answering. He came to
+the conclusion that Stanley must have written to his uncle, telling him
+what had happened at the sand-pit, and the feeling against Paul at the
+school, and so had poisoned his mind against him.
+
+Once or twice Paul thought of writing to the one friend who never failed
+him--his mother--and unburdening his breast to her; but the thought only
+came to him to be dismissed. It would only make her miserable. She had
+suffered enough in the past without being worried with his petty
+troubles at school. So he determined to stand alone--to fight out the
+battle by himself.
+
+Things were at this pass when an event happened which caused some stir
+at Garside.
+
+About a mile from the school ran the river. Its course lay in
+picturesque variety through peaceful pastoral country, cornfields, and
+orchards. One part of it was spanned by an old wooden bridge. This
+bridge had become so dilapidated by time and wear that the county
+justices had decided that it was dangerous for traffic. So to prevent
+the possibility of an accident, it was decided to pull it down, and
+replace it with a new one.
+
+Accordingly, the bridge was pulled down, and a new one begun. To aid in
+this task, a raft was used by the workmen in crossing the river.
+
+Now Plunger and his companions in the Third Form were deeply interested
+in the work that was going on at the river, but what interested Plunger
+most of all was the raft. It seemed to him that he would like to live
+upon that raft. What could be more delightful than gliding up and down
+the stream on it for ever. Then he thought of the many adventures that
+had happened on rafts--of the many shipwrecked passengers that had been
+saved on them.
+
+"Wish I had one of my own," he remarked to Harry, as the two stood
+watching the men crossing the stream one half-holiday. "Wouldn't it be
+jolly fun?"
+
+"Very," answered Harry, who, fired by Plunger's enthusiasm, began to
+share his longing.
+
+It should be mentioned that Plunger's attitude towards Harry had changed
+since the night when Newall had been feathered in mistake for Baldry.
+
+To use the phrase of the Third--"Moncrief minor had scored," and Plunger
+never respected anybody till they had succeeded in scoring over him--in
+other words, beaten him at his own game. Since then he had begun to
+tolerate Harry, and receive him on something like a footing of equality.
+
+"Those fellows," went on Plunger, nodding his head in the direction of
+the workmen on the raft, "are so beastly selfish."
+
+"How, Freddy?"
+
+"Well, I tried to get on that raft when it was lying idle the other day;
+but they commenced shouting at me like mad. I wasn't doing any harm."
+
+"Of course not."
+
+"If they'd been using it, it'd have been a different thing; but they
+weren't. So why couldn't they have let me cross the river on it--eh?"
+
+"I don't see why. They ought to have been glad to. They didn't know the
+honour they were losing. Now, if you'd only have told 'em who you
+were----"
+
+"Shut up!" cried Plunger, pinching Harry's arm. "But, I say, couldn't we
+just have some lovely games, if we only had a raft like that?"
+
+"Lovely," assented Harry.
+
+Here was silence between them for some moments, as they watched the raft
+and the men upon it with envious eyes.
+
+"Duffers!" exclaimed Plunger, at length giving expression to his
+feelings.
+
+"Don't take on so, Freddy."
+
+"Can't help it--duffers!" repeated Plunger, with still greater emphasis.
+
+Silence again, broken by Harry.
+
+"Would you really like to go on that raft, Freddy!"
+
+"Stow poking fun."
+
+"I'm not poking fun, I'm quite serious. Seems to me that if we really
+wanted to go on that raft, and really made up our minds to it, we ought
+to be able to manage it."
+
+"How?" came the eager question.
+
+"Easy enough if we go the right way, and don't make a mess of it, like
+Newall did that night when he walked into the Forum."
+
+"We're not talking about the Forum," said Plunger quickly, giving Harry
+another pinch. "We're talking about rafts--that raft," pointing to the
+one on the river.
+
+"And it's that raft I'm talking about. Have you ever noticed what
+happens on a Saturday?"
+
+"Many things happen on a Saturday; but what is the one thing that
+happens in particular?"
+
+"The workmen on the bridge leave off exactly as the clock strikes
+twelve--a little bit sooner if they can manage it. Never later."
+
+"Oh, yes; they're very punctual at leaving off. But what's that to do
+with the raft?"
+
+"A good deal. They always leave the raft tied up under the bridge. What
+would be easier than to untie it, and there you are."
+
+"Harry, you're a genius--a reg'lar genius!" cried Plunger, bringing his
+hand down on Harry's back. "It never sprouted out like that when you
+were at Gaffer Quelch's. It's come on since you've been at Garside. I
+must have helped it."
+
+Plunger had undoubtedly helped in the development of what he was pleased
+to term Harry's "genius," but whether altogether to the advantage of
+Harry time alone could show.
+
+"You helped it, Freddy! The only help you give is helping Number One.
+You ought to have belonged to the help-myself society. You'd have been
+just the fellow for the president."
+
+Plunger kicked Harry, and Harry returned the compliment; then their eyes
+went to the river again, and the raft, which was just getting under way
+again to cross to the other side.
+
+"Those duffers don't know how to use a raft," said Harry contemptuously,
+after he had been watching the workmen for some moments.
+
+"Of course they don't. That's the worst of being landlubbers. Wish we
+could only take them in hand and show them."
+
+"One of 'em ought to be wearing a suit of goatskins and things of that
+sort, with a great cap on his head, with the hair on the outside to
+shoot off the rain if it came on," said Harry thoughtfully.
+
+"Like Robinson Crusoe, you mean?"
+
+"Like Robinson Crusoe. That slim fellow with the black hair would do for
+Friday, and the others could be Indians--if they only knew how to do
+things properly; but they don't."
+
+"They don't," repeated Plunger emphatically. "My, if we only had the
+working of that raft, Harry, we'd make things hum!"
+
+It was tantalizing to watch the men, so they turned away with visions of
+what it would be possible to accomplish if they only had possession of
+the raft. They could discover a desert island on the other side of the
+river, pitch their tent on it, and do "lots of things." Full of these
+splendid visions, they walked along in silence, each busy with his own
+thoughts.
+
+"I think we can work it, Harry," Plunger at length remarked.
+
+"Work what?"
+
+"That Crusoe idea. We can get the raft next Saturday, and easily peg out
+a desert island on the other side of the river. I shan't want to dress
+up much. I've got a ragged jacket which'll be near enough for skins, and
+a soft felt which I can cut round the brim with Mrs. Trounce's scissors.
+That'll do for the hat."
+
+"Whose hat?"
+
+"Crusoe's hat, of course."
+
+"And who's going to wear it?"
+
+"Who's going to wear it?" Plunger's eyebrows disappeared into the roots
+of his hair in amazement at the question. "I am, of course!"
+
+"You mean that you're going to be Crusoe?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+And Plunger's eyebrows remained so high up in the roots of his hair at
+the bare idea of anybody else playing the part that it seemed as though
+they would never come down again.
+
+"Well, but where do I come in?"
+
+"You can be Friday or an Indian."
+
+"And make myself black, and go about without any shoes and socks on, and
+get thorns in my feet, and--and things like that. No, Freddy; no, I
+don't! We'll change parts. I'll be Crusoe; you be Friday. You look more
+like a savage than I do."
+
+Plunger did not seem altogether pleased with the compliment, for he
+brought his knuckles down on Harry's head; but Harry was not quite the
+meek boy he was when he first came to Garside, so he returned the
+compliment, with interest. Then Plunger tried by cajolery to induce him
+to let him be Crusoe, and satisfy himself with the part of Friday, but
+Harry remained firm.
+
+"I first thought of it," he argued, "and I ought to have first choice.
+If we're going on that raft, I'm going as Crusoe, Freddy."
+
+Plunger preserved a gloomy silence for some moments; then he suddenly
+lifted his head, and his eyes sparkled.
+
+"I've got it. Why shouldn't there be two Crusoes?"
+
+"Two Crusoes! You and I, Freddy?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Harry had never heard of two Crusoes existing on the desert island at
+one and the same time, but he didn't see why there shouldn't be. It
+would be more up to date. Besides it solved the difficulty, so he
+promptly consented.
+
+"But, who'll be Man Friday?"
+
+"Oh, we'll make the Camel Man Friday. He'll do splendidly."
+
+"The Camel" was the cruel nickname it will be remembered that Newall had
+given to Hibbert. Unfortunately, a name like that sticks, and it had
+stuck to Hibbert.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+ON A VOYAGE OF ADVENTURE
+
+
+Moncrief minor and Plunger, having decided that they would improve upon
+Defoe's famous story and introduce two Crusoes into their forthcoming
+adventures instead of one, and having further decided that Hibbert
+should be Man Friday, it only remained to put their project into
+execution as soon as possible.
+
+A little way down the river, on the opposite side to that on which the
+raft was usually moored, was a plantation. It had a thick growth of
+furze and bushes, and save for the rabbits and squirrels, was quite
+desolate during the winter. What better place could be selected for the
+desert island?
+
+"Just the ticket," said Plunger, rubbing his hands, after he and Harry
+had explored the plantation with a view to their forthcoming enterprise.
+"Couldn't have been better if it had been built for us. We must be
+careful, though, and not let old Baldhead and the others know anything
+about it. They'll all want to cut in--Sedgefield, Bember, and the rest.
+I know them. Two Crusoes are quite enough at one time, don't you think?"
+
+Harry quite agreed with Plunger. In fact, he was rather doubtful whether
+two weren't too many--too many by one. But he didn't hint it to Plunger,
+for fear of bringing up the old dispute.
+
+"Have you sounded the Camel?" Plunger asked presently.
+
+"Not yet; but I don't think he'll mind, except for one thing."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"Having his face blacked. He's sure to object to that."
+
+"But he needn't know anything about it till we get him over in the
+plantation; then he can kick and squeal as much as he likes. It won't
+matter. Let's hunt him up now."
+
+The two thereupon went in search of Hibbert. When they found him, Harry
+informed him in glowing language of their project for the coming
+Saturday.
+
+"And just by way of a little treat we thought we'd take you with us,"
+said Plunger, as Harry concluded his explanation. "It'll be fine fun.
+When we get on the desert island we can have splendid adventures!"
+
+"Yes, yes; it'll be fine fun, as you say; but I'd rather not," answered
+Hibbert, for whom the river had little attraction. He somehow feared it.
+"I'll give way to some of the others."
+
+"But you're not going to give way. You're too fond of taking a back
+seat. You never have any fun; the other fellows have plenty. It's a
+jolly shame!" exclaimed Plunger, waxing indignant. "It isn't right, is
+it, Harry?"
+
+"No, it isn't," Harry promptly assented. "I don't see why the Camel
+shouldn't have as much fun as the rest of us."
+
+"But--but I don't want it. I'm quite content."
+
+"Ah, that's it. You're too content; but we're not. We mean making things
+better for you. It's nearly time some alteration was made. Baldry,
+Sedgefield, and the others would never think of giving you a bit of
+pleasure. They're too selfish--aren't they, Harry?"
+
+"Awfully!"
+
+"So we're leaving them out of it, and you're coming with us instead,
+Hibbert. We'll have a good time, I can tell you."
+
+Plunger spoke with so much earnestness, and was backed up by Harry with
+no less earnestness, that Hibbert really thought that their sole object
+in taking him with them on the raft was to give him "a bit of pleasure."
+It was perfectly clear also that they would take no denial; so Hibbert,
+making a virtue of necessity, reluctantly consented.
+
+"Whatever you do don't let out what we're going to do to the other
+fellows," was Plunger's parting injunction, "or they'll be eating their
+heads off with envy."
+
+Nevertheless, in spite of Plunger's injunction, the secret leaked out.
+Indeed, it would have been an astonishing thing if it hadn't, for the
+proposed adventure on the raft had taken such complete possession of the
+mind of Plunger, that he could think of little else. He dreamt about it,
+and talked it over with Harry at every opportunity. In addition to this,
+they had been seen carrying parcels in the direction of the plantation.
+
+The long-looked-for Saturday at length came. It had been agreed between
+the two confederates that, so as to avoid suspicion, Plunger should
+stroll up to the bridge just before the hour the men left off work, and
+that Harry should arrive on the scene a few minutes later with Hibbert,
+from another direction.
+
+"If anybody's about they won't suspect anything," said Plunger. "We
+shall meet as if by accident, and keep out of the way till the road's
+clear."
+
+Precisely as arranged, Plunger strolled up to the old bridge, which by
+this time was almost demolished. The workmen had made fast the raft to a
+stake at the side of the river, and, having received their wages,
+hastened off at the stroke of twelve. No one heeded Plunger. A few
+minutes later, Harry came up with Hibbert, who was trying to look as
+happy as possible under the circumstances, but was nevertheless far from
+comfortable. The river always seemed so cruel to him--so treacherous.
+And somehow it had seemed more cruel, more treacherous, since Paul had
+told him the story of his father's death.
+
+"All serene, Harry," cried Plunger. "The road's clear. We've got it all
+to ourselves."
+
+"That's good," said Harry. "We're in luck's way. Let's make hay while
+the sun shines. Wait for us on the towing-path, Hibbert. We'll soon be
+alongside."
+
+Leaving Hibbert on the towing-path, the two boys got on the raft, and
+proceeded to untie it from the stake to which it was attached. This did
+not take them long, and, having secured a punting-pole, they soon
+brought the raft to where Hibbert was awaiting them.
+
+"I'd--I'd rather not go," said the boy hesitating.
+
+"Don't talk rubbish. Get on. You don't mean to say you funk it?"
+
+To tell the truth, Hibbert did "funk it," though there seemed so little
+to fear; but he was, as we know, a nervous, timid boy. None the less, he
+always tried to disguise his feelings even to himself.
+
+"Funk--not a bit; but--but I'm never much help, and--and I thought I
+might be in the way. It's a jolly raft, isn't he!" he said, as he
+stepped on.
+
+"Jolly."
+
+Plunger pushed off and they went slowly down the river in the direction
+of the plantation.
+
+"It's smooth enough here, but what must it be like on the sea, eh?"
+asked Plunger, after an interval of silence.
+
+"Without any food or water and no sign of a sail."
+
+"Yes, famishing with hunger and casting lots which shall die," added
+Plunger cheerfully, glaring at Hibbert, as though he contemplated him
+for a victim. Hibbert, pale before, turned to an ashen hue. "Why, what's
+the matter, Camel? Don't you feel well? Seasick?"
+
+"I--I'm all right. Is--isn't it jolly?" answered Hibbert, with a feeble
+attempt at a smile.
+
+Though Hibbert was far from enjoying himself, in spite of trying to
+impress upon himself that he was, his companions were in their element.
+As they floated along the river, they imagined themselves to be
+adventurers, bent on discovery and deeds of heroism. All the same Harry
+began to feel that Plunger, as usual, was trying to take up the position
+of command, and make him play second fiddle.
+
+"I say, Freddy," he presently burst out, "isn't it time that I did a bit
+of punting?"
+
+"I'd like you to have a try, I really would; but it's not so easy as it
+looks. You've never done any punting, and you don't know how hard it
+is."
+
+"And what do you know about it? You've never done any of it till now.
+You're not going to gammon me, Freddy; so hand over the pole."
+
+As Plunger did not seem inclined to give up the pole, Harry caught hold
+of it, with the intention of enforcing his demands. As he did so, the
+raft swayed, and Hibbert, crying out in alarm, clutched Harry in turn to
+steady himself.
+
+"Don't be an ass, Harry," exclaimed Plunger hotly. "You'll have us over
+in a minute. We're not on dry land. We're not out for a picnic."
+
+"Give up the pole, then. We were to go halves--share and share alike. I
+know as much about punting as you do; so let me have a turn."
+
+"Put me on land," said Hibbert appealingly, fearing that a struggle
+would take place between the two boys.
+
+"Don't be such an awful funk, Camel," exclaimed Plunger roughly. "Let
+go, Harry. Don't play about on this bit of wood or over we go. I'm not
+insured, if you are. I said we'd go halves, and so we will. Let me
+finish punting to the plantation and you shall do the punting back."
+
+"You mean it?"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+Satisfied with this promise, Harry let go the pole, much to the relief
+of Hibbert. The rest of the voyage was passed without further dispute,
+and in a little while they reached the plantation in safety. Having
+secured the raft, they made their way into the thicket. Hibbert
+timorously inquired where they were going.
+
+"We told you we were out for adventures," explained Plunger. "Harry and
+me are Crusoes--twins, you see."
+
+Hibbert nodded assent, but he could not help thinking that he had never
+seen twins who were so utterly unlike each other as the two before him.
+
+"You're to be Friday, Camel."
+
+"Friday--yes," Hibbert feebly assented. "Wha--what's he to do?"
+
+"He's got to discover us--the twin Crusoes."
+
+Hibbert thought that to balance things there ought to be a twin Friday,
+but he only repeated, "Twin Crusoes--yes." As he did so, he thought he
+heard a rustling among the bushes, as though some wild beast were
+crawling amongst them. He looked round with a shiver, but saw nothing.
+Plunger and Harry, too intent on their enterprise to hear anything, had
+been groping about in the thicket for something they had hidden there.
+Presently Plunger cried, "Got it!"
+
+He drew out a brown-paper parcel from its hiding-place as he spoke,
+while Harry explained as he did so:
+
+"This is to be a sort of dress rehearsal, you see. The next time we come
+we shall be able to do the thing properly."
+
+"Yes, we've only got the hats and Friday's wig, and the stuff for his
+face," went on Plunger, as he pitched a brimless felt hat to Harry and
+clapped one of similar design on his own head. "We mean having the skin
+coats next time. Here's your wig, Camel--Friday, I mean. Let's see how
+it fits."
+
+He took from the parcel a wig, which had been skilfully designed from a
+couple of fluffy woollen table mats, once the property of Mrs. Trounce.
+Pulling off Hibbert's cap, Plunger fixed this curiously fashioned wig on
+the boy's head.
+
+"Fits to a T. Doesn't it, Harry?"
+
+Harry nodded.
+
+"Wish we only had a looking-glass here so that you could see yourself in
+it, Camel," went on Plunger. "You only want painting up a bit, and there
+you are. Hold your face down while Moncrief puts on the artistic
+touches."
+
+Hibbert feebly protested. He didn't want his face painted.
+
+"Now, look here, Camel," said Plunger, giving his arm a twist which made
+him wince, "we're not going to hurt you; so don't be silly. Friday was a
+savage, you know, and savages don't go about with white faces, and yours
+is awfully white. Don't be silly, I say."
+
+Hibbert wriggled for a moment, but seeing that it was useless for him to
+struggle further, gave in with as good grace as possible. Harry at once
+went to work on his face. First of all greasing it, he next smeared it
+with burnt cork, until Hibbert was as black as a nigger. Thus blackened,
+and with the rudely fashioned wig as crown, Hibbert presented a curious
+appearance indeed. The two burst into laughter when they had finished.
+Their laughter seemed to echo through the plantation. Suddenly their
+laughter was checked.
+
+"Did you hear it? Strange, wasn't it?" said Plunger.
+
+Hibbert looked tremblingly round. Of a sudden an unearthly yell rent the
+air, and half a dozen dusky figures leapt from the bushes in the
+distance. Flourishing curiously-shaped weapons, very like tomahawks,
+they rushed, yelling and screaming, towards the bewildered boys.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+WHAT HAPPENED ON THE RAFT
+
+
+Hibbert, a picture of terror, turned and fled towards the river, and
+Plunger and Harry, imagining for the moment that they had been set upon
+by real savages, promptly followed his example. The dusky figures
+followed in pursuit, still yelling their outlandish cries.
+
+"Ka-pei, ka-pei! Houp, houp! O-jib-e-way! Koo-oo, koo-oo!"
+
+Hibbert ran as he had never run before in his life. Terror lent speed to
+his feet. He had got the start of his companions, so that they only drew
+up to him as he reached the river.
+
+"Quick--the raft!" shouted Plunger. "They'll be on us in a minute."
+
+It was the raft for which Hibbert was making.
+
+"Ka-pei, ka-pei! Houp, Houp! O-jib-e-way! Koo-oo, koo-oo!"
+
+The cries of the pursuers drew nearer and nearer. Hibbert reached the
+raft and leapt on it.
+
+"Undo the rope! I'll push off!" panted Plunger.
+
+Harry never thought of the promise Plunger had made--that he should punt
+the raft back. His only desire was that they should put the river
+between them and their pursuers as quickly as possible. In less than a
+moment he had undone the rope which bound the raft to the bank, and
+leapt to Plunger's side. Brief as the space of time, it had enabled the
+foremost of their pursuers to reach the bank.
+
+"Push off, Freddy," cried Harry.
+
+Plunger pushed off in desperation. Too late! The foremost of the
+pursuers had followed them on to the raft. Plunger could see the dusky
+face looking into his. The raft had floated a little way from the bank.
+With another unearthly cry three more of the savage-looking figures
+leapt on.
+
+The raft swayed ominously. Plunger made a wild endeavour to push further
+out into the stream. The raft lurched forward. There was a cry of
+horror, a splash, and the next moment three of the boys--Plunger,
+Hibbert, and one of "the savages"--were struggling in the water.
+
+The impetus given to the raft had taken it out into midstream, and when
+the three rose to the surface, it was at some distance from them. By the
+ducking in the water the paint of the "noble savage" was running down
+his face, and Plunger, in that terrible moment, recognized that it was
+Baldry.
+
+Plunger knew little of swimming. Fortunately, Baldry knew more of it
+than he did, and was able to clutch him by the arm and hold him up. But
+those on the raft saw with horror that they had floated right away from
+Hibbert, and that was he drowning before their eyes.
+
+Harry looked round for the punting-hole, in the hope that he might go to
+the aid of the drowning boy. Alas! Plunger had carried the pole with him
+when he had fallen into the river, and it was now floating down the
+stream at some distance from them.
+
+"The Camel's drowning!" gasped Harry.
+
+The boys on the raft saw that he was. They had caught sight of the white
+face as it rose for the second time to the surface. And they stood
+there, transfixed horrified, at the tragedy that was taking place before
+them. Unable to find the punting-pole, Harry would have leapt into the
+river, but Sedgefield, one of the "savages" who had jumped upon the
+raft, was just in time to clutch him by the arm and hold him back.
+
+"Look, Moncrief! That's Percival, isn't it?"
+
+Harry stood, trembling in every limb, on the edge of the raft, and
+followed the direction of Sedgefield's finger. Yes, Percival it was. Cut
+off from the games of his companions, left entirely to himself, he had
+brought out his rod and line to pass an hour or so angling. While thus
+occupied, he had heard the shouts and cries raised by the "savages" on
+the opposite bank.
+
+"What's wrong?" he asked himself, as he stood quite still and listened.
+
+The shouting grew louder; the yells more unearthly, and in a tongue, as
+it seemed to him, he had never heard before.
+
+Dropping his rod, he raced along the bank, just in time to to see from a
+distance the raft push off with the boys upon it, and the disaster that
+followed, as it floated further into the stream. He paused for an
+instant as he breathlessly watched the scene; then raced forward at full
+speed, flung off his jacket, waistcoat, and boots, and struck out, hand
+over hand, to where Hibbert was struggling in the water.
+
+Fortunately, Paul was a powerful swimmer. Even in his cradle his father
+had taken his little hand in his large one, and, while looking lovingly
+in his face, had said to the wife who sat beside him:
+
+"The son of a sea-dog, the son of a sea-dog! He must never know the fear
+of water."
+
+Alas! it was the cruel water which had carried off the father, but the
+son had grown up true to his wish--he had never known the fear of water.
+So he had become a bold and powerful swimmer. With a swift, sweeping
+side-stroke he reached Hibbert's side, just as he was sinking for the
+last time. Clutching the drowning boy by the hair, he held him up; then,
+turning on his back, he drew him to his chest, and, kicking out with his
+feet, soon reached the bank.
+
+Placing the boy gently on the turf, Paul gazed anxiously into his face.
+The eyes were closed; the lips ghastly blue; the heart seemed still.
+
+"Hibbert, Hibbert!" cried Paul, as he tried to restore animation.
+
+No answer came to his pleading cry. The eyes still remained closed. A
+big fear took possession of Paul. Had the eyes closed never to open
+more? Had help come when it was too late? Was the little chap dead?
+Notwithstanding the fear that seized him, he did not relax his efforts,
+and presently, to his great joy, the lids fluttered, then opened, and
+the eyes went up to his face. They were dazed, bewildered. Slowly a look
+of recognition came into them.
+
+"Per--Percival!" came in a feeble whisper from the lips; then the lids,
+as though exhausted by the effort they had made, closed again.
+
+Danger was not yet past, but the boy lived, and Paul, breathing more
+freely, looked round to see what had happened to the others. It had been
+a near thing with Baldry and Plunger. Baldry had supported Plunger for
+some time, but neither had been able to reach the raft or the bank;
+while those on the raft were unable to move to their assistance. The
+strength of both was, therefore, giving out rapidly.
+
+"Let go of me, Baldry. Take care of yourself!" gasped Plunger.
+
+"Shan't Freddy," answered Baldry feebly. "Sit tight!"
+
+Even in that terrible moment, with death looming grimly before him,
+Plunger smiled faintly. Baldry's advice seemed so ludicrous. Sit tight!
+What was he to sit tight on? They grew fainter every moment.
+
+"God, help us!" was the prayer that came from the heart of Baldry.
+
+Human help seemed to have failed them. So, at least, it seemed; but
+Paul, looking up from Hibbert at this moment, his heart gladdened at
+hearing his name, saw the dilemma in which they were placed--the peril
+in which they stood. Unless assistance soon reached them, they must go
+under.
+
+What was to be done? He could not see them drown before his eyes.
+Yet--yet, if he were to leave Hibbert, what would happen to him? It was
+true that he had opened his eyes and spoken, but perhaps that was only
+the last feeble flicker of the candle. Paul's hand went quickly to the
+boy's heart. It was still beating, though feebly. Again his eyes went to
+where Baldry and Plunger were making a desperate fight for life. Three
+lives were trembling in the balance.
+
+The prayer that had come from Baldry's lips a moment since came from
+Paul's.
+
+"God, help me! What am I to do?"
+
+He gave another swift glance into Hibbert's face. It seemed to smile at
+him, as though in answer to his prayer. "Go," it seemed to say. The
+next instant Paul plunged into the river, swimming towards the two boys,
+with the same swift stroke which had enabled him to reach Hibbert's
+side.
+
+As he cut through the water, his right hand struck against something.
+His fingers closed round it. It was the punting-pole that Plunger had
+lost, and which had been partly responsible for the accident. God had
+answered his prayer. He had helped him. It would have been impossible
+for him to have saved the two fast-drowning boys by his own unaided
+efforts. Now it was possible.
+
+"Catch hold!" he cried, as he directed one end of the pole to Baldry and
+Plunger.
+
+They eagerly gripped it; then, grasping the other end, Paul swam to
+shore. It was a strange freight he was towing--two human lives. And his
+heart seemed beating like the valve of a steam-tug as he reached the
+bank and pulled his freight ashore.
+
+"You're a brick--that's what you are, Percival!" were the first words
+that Plunger gasped, as he struggled, with the water dripping from him,
+up the bank.
+
+Baldry's eyes had gone to the still figure lying on the grass.
+
+"It's--it's the Camel! What--what's wrong with him?" he asked, as he
+stood gazing at the still form. "Is--is he dead?"
+
+"I hope not--I think not," said Paul, as he raised the slight figure in
+his arms. "I must leave you fellows to look after yourselves."
+
+So saying, holding Hibbert close to him, he hastened along the road that
+led to the school. Once or twice he paused to make sure that Hibbert's
+heart was beating. Yes; it was still beating, though feebly: having
+reassured himself, he hurried on again with his burden.
+
+The road seemed longer to him than it had ever been before; but at
+length he drew near, and his eyes went up to the first thing that a
+Garside boy usually looked to--the old flag.
+
+He could scarcely believe his eyes. Were they mocking him, or was he
+under a delusion? The flag did not seem to be flying there.
+
+"My eyes are playing tricks with me," he thought as he hurried
+breathless into the grounds.
+
+A few steps more and he met Stanley. He stopped and regarded Paul with
+surprise. He advanced a step, as though with the intention of speaking
+to him, but quickly changing his mind, went on his way. Paul clenched
+his teeth hard and staggered on with his burden. Luckily it was only a
+light one.
+
+Reaching the schoolhouse door, he met Waterman coming from it.
+
+"Percival! What are you fagging with there?" For once Waterman was
+genuinely roused. "An accident? Why, it's young Hibbert. What's
+happened?"
+
+"He's had a ducking in the river. Run for Dr. Clack--as quickly as you
+can."
+
+Waterman needed no second bidding. His natural indolence of manner,
+under which was hidden much more energy than people gave him credit for,
+vanished on the instant. He darted off at the top of his speed. Paul did
+not relinquish his burden till, under the direction of the matron, he
+had placed it on a bed in the sick dormitory.
+
+"A doctor must be fetched," said the matron, as Hibbert's eyes remained
+closed, in spite of her efforts to bring him back to consciousness.
+
+"Waterman's gone for Dr. Clack."
+
+"That's right. The poor little fellow's in a bad way. Oh, you boys--you
+boys!" came in a sigh from the matron's lips. "Always in mischief. Who
+pushed him into the river?"
+
+"Nobody pushed him. He fell in, so far as I could see."
+
+Paul did not tell her that two more Gargoyles had fallen into the river
+at the same time, for fear of alarming her still more.
+
+"Why didn't you stop him from playing about on the river? You're old
+enough to know better," said Mrs. Trounce wrathfully.
+
+Paul stood silent under this rebuke. He had not explained all the
+circumstances of the accident--so far, at least, as he knew them--for
+fear of implicating the other boys. He had caught a glimpse of the
+savage "get-up" of Baldry and his companions, and the black stains on
+Hibbert's face, which had only been partially washed away by the water.
+He guessed, therefore, that there was more in the accident than at first
+met the eye.
+
+"If he dies we shall have the police here a-makin' all sorts of
+inquiries," continued the angry matron. "And I shouldn't wonder if they
+took you off to the lock-up, and brought you up before a judge and jury.
+And serve you right, ses I. You elder boys want a lesson. Instead of
+stopping the little fellow from playing on the river, you encouraged
+him, I expect. I know the way you big boys have. You use the paws of the
+little ones to pull out the roast chestnuts. It's disgraceful, I call
+it."
+
+Thus the matron poured out the vials of her wrath on Paul's head, while
+she busied herself at the same time in doing all she could to restore
+the patient to consciousness. Her words fell unheeded on Paul's ears. He
+was watching the face of Hibbert, and wondering whether the eyes would
+ever open again, and look up to him as they had looked up to him on that
+day when he had put his hand timidly on his shoulder and whispered:
+
+"You look so wretched and miserable I could not help coming to you.
+You're not angry with me, are you?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE OLD FLAG
+
+
+As the thought went through Paul's mind, the door opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered. To Paul's wonder the master fell on his knees beside the bed,
+and, taking Hibbert's hand in his, murmured:
+
+"Tim, Tim, what have they done to you? Speak, Tim."
+
+The cold nature of the master seemed to have melted as he looked at the
+unconscious boy. Paul had never heard him call Hibbert by his Christian
+name before. The ashen lips were moving tremulously. The blinking eyes
+were fixed tenderly on the boy's face, and--was Paul dreaming?--he
+thought he saw a tear roll down the master's cheek.
+
+"Why did I leave you to yourself? Speak, Tim, speak," came the pleading
+tones.
+
+For once Mr. Weevil's self-control had given way. He was strangely
+moved. Paul was too moved himself at the time to take much notice, but
+he recalled every incident in that strange scene after. Then, as no
+answer came to his appeal, the master seemed to wander in his talk, and
+babbled words in an unknown tongue.
+
+He was still kneeling by the bed, talking in this way, when Dr. Clack,
+the school doctor, entered. His face remained very grave as he examined
+his patient.
+
+"It's been a very near thing with him," he said, when he had finished
+his examination; "but with careful nursing he may pull round."
+
+Paul heard the news with a thankful heart, for he had begun to fear that
+the case was hopeless. Mr. Weevil had now quite recovered his
+self-possession, and, leaving the patient in the hands of the doctor and
+the matron, beckoned Paul to follow him to his room.
+
+On entering it he closed the door, and questioned Paul minutely as to
+the cause of the accident. Paul explained to him what he had seen, the
+more readily because the little he had seen threw no particular blame on
+any one.
+
+"And you don't know how it happened?"
+
+"No, sir; I haven't the least idea."
+
+"You weren't in any way concerned in it?" demanded Mr. Weevil, suddenly
+opening his half-closed eyes and fixing them on Paul.
+
+Paul felt indignant. He had made as little as possible of his share in
+rescuing Hibbert; and as a result the master seemed to have a lurking
+suspicion that he was in league in some way with the boys who had caused
+the accident.
+
+"No, sir, I was in no way concerned in it," he flashed back. "It was
+quite by chance that I was at the river-side this afternoon."
+
+"Well, the matter must be further inquired into. It is quite certain
+that there is something that needs explanation."
+
+"I know nothing about that, sir; but if you've no more questions to ask
+me, I'd like to change my things."
+
+Paul's clothes had nearly dried on him. He had taken no heed of himself
+in thinking of Hibbert; but now that Hibbert was in bed, and in the
+hands of those who could take care of him, he began to think a little of
+his own condition, which was not altogether so comfortable as might have
+been desired.
+
+"I'm sorry. I really had forgotten that you were in damp clothes. Why
+didn't you mention it before? You must change them at once."
+
+Mr. Weevil seemed really sorry that he had not given a thought to Paul's
+condition before. Paul hastened off to change his damp cloth for dry
+ones. While he was thus engaged, Plunger and Baldry entered for the same
+purpose. Otherwise they seemed none the worse for the cold bath.
+Plunger, in fact had got on good terms with himself again, and was as
+perky as ever.
+
+"I should have punted across the river all right if it hadn't been for
+Hibbert," he explained. "The scream he gave threw me off my stroke. It
+was jolly good of you all the same to come to us, Percival. We shan't
+forget it in a hurry--shall we, Baldry?"
+
+"No," was Baldry's emphatic answer. "By the by, how is Hibbert going
+on?"
+
+"I was just going to ask the same thing. I would rather have gone under
+myself than that he should. Has the doctor been to him?"
+
+Plunger spoke with unusual earnestness.
+
+"Yes, Dr. Clack's been to him. He's with him now."
+
+"And what does he say?"
+
+"He says that it's been a near thing, but with careful nursing he may
+pull round."
+
+Plunger paused with one arm in the sleeve of the jacket he was putting
+on, and sat down on the side of the bed. He was beginning to realize how
+near the Crusoe expedition had been to a tragedy--nay, the danger was
+not yet over. Silence fell on the room for some moments. Each was busy
+with his own thoughts.
+
+"I haven't yet heard how it all happened," Paul at length inquired.
+
+Plunger told him the origin of the "Crusoe expedition," and all that had
+happened up to the moment of the accident.
+
+"I don't know anything about the savages that boarded us on the raft.
+Baldry can tell you that part," he concluded.
+
+"Oh, we found out all about the expedition, and didn't like being left
+out of it. We thought that we'd have a cut in on our own account. So
+Sedgefield, Bember, Viner, and myself got down to the plantation before
+Plunger, Moncrief minor, and Hibbert reached it on the raft. While they
+landed and got ready for their part, we got ready for ours. What was the
+use of Crusoe without the noble savages? So we got up as savages, and
+frightened the life out of Plunger and the other two by swooping down on
+'em just like Indians would, you know."
+
+"You didn't frighten me, I tell you," protested Plunger.
+
+"Of course not; but Crusoe, when he first saw savages, never sprinted
+along half so quickly as you did, I'll warrant! Greased lightning wasn't
+in it with you, Plunger."
+
+Plunger did not answer, but diligently set to work getting his other arm
+into the sleeve of his coat.
+
+"Well, but what's become of the other fellows on the raft--Moncrief,
+Sedgefield, and the others?" inquired Paul.
+
+"Oh, they were still on the raft, floating gaily along, when we left.
+Goodness knows when they would get ashore," says Baldry.
+
+"It's a bit unfortunate, you see, for none of the fellows now left on
+the raft understand anything about punting," put in Plunger. "It's
+rather a pity I couldn't have got back to them."
+
+"It's just that that makes me feel easy. There's a good chance of their
+pulling through, now you're not with them, Plunger," was Baldry's
+ungracious response. "Why, here they are!"
+
+As he was speaking, in fact, three of the four entered--Bember,
+Sedgefield, and Harry Moncrief. After they had spent some time on the
+raft, drifting aimlessly on the river, a boatman had towed them ashore.
+Fixing the raft in its place by the bridge, they had returned in all
+haste to the school, anxious to know what had happened to their
+companions. When they had learned all particulars, Sedgefield exclaimed:
+
+"I don't care what those Fifth Form fellows say or think, but will you
+take my hand, Percival?"
+
+Paul willingly gripped the hand extended to him. Bember and the others,
+with the exception of Harry, followed suit. Harry struggled with himself
+for a moment. He could not help remembering, in spite of his effort to
+forget it, that Paul was responsible for the thrashing that his cousin
+had received at the hands of a Beetle, and that he had seen him shaking
+hands with the same obnoxious creature. Yet what could have been nobler,
+Harry told himself, than the way in which, at the risk of his own life,
+Paul had gone to the rescue of Hibbert, and had returned a few minutes
+later to save Plunger and Baldry? He had witnessed it all from the raft,
+with his heart in his mouth. Yes, it was a noble deed. He had never seen
+a nobler. What was the defeat of Stanley--the wound of his
+pride--compared with it? Instinctively his hand went out to Paul as the
+other hands had done, when Viner entered the room.
+
+"Have you heard the news?" he questioned, greatly excited.
+
+"The news! What news?" demanded Sedgefield.
+
+"The school flag. It's gone!"
+
+"Gone!" they echoed, as with one voice.
+
+Paul's mind went back with a rush to when he had entered the grounds
+with Hibbert in his arms. His eyes had not deceived him, then. The flag
+had really gone.
+
+"Nonsense!" cried Sedgefield.
+
+"Not much nonsense about it. If you don't believe me, you'd better go
+and look for yourself."
+
+The intelligence was so remarkable, that Plunger and Harry raced into
+the grounds. A minute later they returned.
+
+"Viner's quite right. It's gone," they exclaimed in a breath.
+
+"But how--where--when?" questioned Sedgefield. "Who has taken it?"
+
+"No one knows. It must have happened while we were on the river, so we
+could know nothing about it. Somebody must have stolen up the turret
+stair and got on to the roof. That's the only possible way it could be
+done. The senior Forms are in a rare wax over it."
+
+"I should think so," burst out Plunger. "What fellow can rest easy now
+that our flag's been hauled down? I only wish that I had hold of the one
+who did it."
+
+"You'd give him a lesson in punting, wouldn't you, Freddy?" observed
+Baldry, with a wink at those around him.
+
+Plunger glared at Baldry. He would have brought his knuckles down on his
+head, only he remembered what Baldry had done for him.
+
+"Seriously," said Sedgefield, "it can't have walked. There's not a
+fellow in Garside who would have pulled down the old flag, even for a
+joke; I'm certain of that."
+
+"And I." "And I." "And I," came in a chorus.
+
+"A Beetle must have sneaked in. It must be the work of a Beetle."
+
+"That's what I've been thinking," said Bember. "It's only one of those
+cads could have done a sneakish trick like that."
+
+"Supposing it is a Beetle, which of them could have done it? Which of
+them could have made his way into the school without being seen, and
+then got to the door in the turret?" asked Baldry.
+
+"Mellor knows all about the building. He could easily describe
+the way to any of the Beetles," said Viner. "That champion of
+theirs--Wyndham--has made us eat enough dirt already. He made our picked
+man turn tail"--every eye went to Paul as Viner spoke with
+bitterness--"and Moncrief eat dirt. Now we've lost the flag. Really,
+we're getting on. We can't sink much lower."
+
+The atmosphere in the dormitory was getting oppressive. Every one felt
+uncomfortable. That allusion to Paul was true enough. He had turned
+away, like a frightened cur, from Wyndham; but who could accuse him of
+being a coward after what had happened that day? It was altogether
+inexplicable.
+
+Baldry was the first to speak.
+
+"You know what has happened this afternoon, Viner. Percival saved my
+life, and you're not going to fling mud at him while I'm standing by."
+
+"And I say ditto to Baldry," blustered Plunger.
+
+"Oh, I deserve it," said Paul, for the first time breaking silence.
+"It's true--every word that Viner said. I did turn tail. It was the act
+of a coward. And Stanley Moncrief suffered through me, and through me
+all the school has eaten dirt. But if the school has suffered through
+me, through me it shall be lifted up again. If the Beetles have taken
+our flag, by God's help I will get it back again, and again it shall fly
+in its old place on the turret. If I fail----"
+
+But Baldry cut him short, and shouted:
+
+"Three cheers for Percival!"
+
+The cheers were given very heartily, though Viner took little part in
+the cheering; but ere the last cheer had died away, a messenger came
+from the sick-room. Hibbert was still in a very critical condition, but
+he had recovered consciousness, and was asking for Paul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+HIBBERT ASKS STRANGE QUESTIONS
+
+
+The message brought back the minds of the boys with painful abruptness
+to the struggle of a far different kind which was taking place in the
+sick-room. In the loss of the school flag they had forgotten, for the
+time being, the crisis through which Hibbert was passing. It was no time
+for cheering; it was a time of sadness--Paul, at least, felt so as he
+obeyed the message, and made his way to the sick-room.
+
+"Percival," came in a low, faint voice, as he entered.
+
+The face of the sick boy turned to him. Pale at all times, it now seemed
+bloodless, as white as the pillow upon which it rested. It seemed, too,
+to have shrunk, while the eyes had grown larger, and shone with a light
+which Paul had never seen in them before.
+
+"You were the first one he asked for when he came to his senses," said
+Mrs. Trounce, as Paul stepped softly to the bedside. "I think he's a bit
+better now; aren't you?"
+
+"Much better, thank you," said the boy, with a painful attempt to smile
+at her. Then the bright eyes went again to Paul's face and rested there.
+
+"I'm glad to hear that, Hibbert," said Paul, taking the thin hand in
+his. "You must make up your mind to get off that bed as soon as
+possible, mustn't he, Mrs. Trounce?"
+
+"Just what I tell him," said the matron, cheerfully, for she knew the
+value of cheerfulness on the spirits of a patient. "If he makes up his
+mind to it, he'll soon be about again."
+
+"It's astonishing what we can do when we set our teeth hard, and go for
+a thing," continued Paul, adopting her cheerful tone and manner.
+
+"That's what you did when you came to me and saved my life. Oh,
+Percival, it was terrible!"
+
+And the thin hand went to the eyes with a gesture of pain.
+
+"Terrible! Hooking you out of that river? That's what I call beastly
+ingratitude. I think it's one of the best things I ever did in my life."
+
+"No, no," cried the boy quickly; "don't think me ungrateful. I couldn't
+bear that. You don't think me ungrateful?"
+
+"Of course not. It's only my stupid way of putting things. All you've
+got to do now is to forget about the river, and everything connected
+with it. You're now on dry land--in a nice, warm, comfortable bed, where
+you needn't trouble about anything except getting well again."
+
+"Are the other fellows all right--Plunger and Moncrief, I mean?"
+
+"Right? Rather! Going stronger than ever, especially Plunger."
+
+"I'm glad of that. And--and the savages. Who were they?" asked Hibbert,
+with a shudder.
+
+"Can't you guess?" smiled Paul. "Nobody very dreadful. Three or four of
+the fellows of your Form--Bember, Baldry, Sedgefield, Viner."
+
+"I might have guessed it; but then I'm not like other boys. I'm such a
+coward--coward. I've fought against it so hard, but I can't get over it.
+I've tried to be brave--as brave as you are----"
+
+"Hush! Don't talk of bravery. You're forgetting the sand-pit. Don't put
+me on stilts, for I could never walk in them. We're just what God makes
+of us. There are plenty of thorns and thistles about, heaps of 'em; but
+not many sensitive plants. That's what you are Hibbert--a beautiful,
+sensitive plant."
+
+"Ah, you don't know what I am. If only I could tell you--if only I could
+tell you. You would hate me--hate me. Yes, Percival--hate me. You can
+call me a beautiful, sensitive plant, while all the time I'm a beastly
+hypocrite. Oh, why didn't you let me die--why didn't you let me go down
+in the river? Why did you save me?"
+
+He spoke with a sudden outburst of energy, raising himself, in his
+feverish excitement on his elbow.
+
+"Come, come! Master Percival will have to leave you, if you take on that
+way," said the matron.
+
+"Yes, I think I'd better go now and come again to-morrow," said Paul,
+alarmed at this sudden outburst, which he took to be a slight touch of
+delirium.
+
+"Don't leave me, Percival--don't leave me just yet!" pleaded the boy.
+"I--I was forgetting myself. I'll be quieter if you'll stay with me a
+little longer."
+
+The thin fingers slipped into Paul's hand again, and clung to it
+tightly.
+
+"I'll stay with you a little longer, if you'll just do what I tell you."
+
+"Yes, yes. What?"
+
+"Just close your eyes and try to sleep."
+
+Hibbert obeyed him implicitly. He closed his eyes, as though to sleep,
+but still held fast to Paul's hand. In a few moments the pressure
+relaxed, and he seemed to be really sleeping.
+
+"I'll watch over him for a bit, if you like," whispered Paul to the
+matron.
+
+Mrs. Trounce looked at her patient. He seemed tranquil enough now, and
+as she had other duties to attend to, she gladly availed herself of
+Paul's offer.
+
+"I'll be back as soon as I can," she whispered as she went out.
+
+She hadn't been gone more than ten minutes before Hibbert's eyes opened
+again.
+
+"Still here, Percival? It's very kind of you." Then, looking round:
+"Where's matron?"
+
+"Gone out for a bit. I've promised to look after you. Do you want
+anything?"
+
+"No--except you. Matron's really gone?"--looking round again.
+
+"What a suspicious chap you're getting!" smiled Paul. "Do you think
+she's hiding somewhere?"
+
+"I'm glad she's gone, Percival, because I wanted to speak to
+you--alone."
+
+"But you promised to sleep."
+
+"Well, I've kept my promise. I've had quite a long doze."
+
+"Very long--ten minutes."
+
+"I can't sleep longer till I've said what I've got to say. Doesn't it
+say somewhere in the Bible that we ought to confess our sins?"
+
+Paul could now see clearly enough that there was something troubling
+Hibbert, and that it would only increase the trouble if he were to
+refuse to answer him. So he answered:
+
+"Of course it does. Let me see--you must know the words as well as I
+do--'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our
+sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'"
+
+"Yes, those are the words I was trying to think of. I remember them
+quite well now. The water from the river seems to have got into my
+brain, and things aren't quite so clear to me now as they used to be,
+you see."
+
+"That will come all right presently, and things will be quite as clear
+to you as ever they were. But you mustn't worry, or else they won't."
+
+"I can't help it; but I shan't worry so much when what is on my mind is
+off it."
+
+"Shall I send for Mr. Weevil?"
+
+"No, no," answered the boy quickly; "it's you I want to speak to. Don't
+leave me."
+
+Paul did not move. He kept his place beside the bed, though he had no
+wish to hear any confession. He guessed what it was. Some boyish freak
+or escapade, magnified into undue proportion by the sensitive boy now
+that he was so weak.
+
+"I won't leave you, but if you've got anything to say, I'm not the
+fellow to say it to. There's One can do you a great deal more good than
+I can, Hibbert. Just confess to Him when you say your prayers to-night.
+He'll help you a lot more than I can."
+
+"Supposing I have done that, Percival. Supposing I did it when I closed
+my eyes a little while ago; and supposing even then a voice seemed
+whispering in my ear, 'If you want peace, if you want to meet your
+mother in heaven, act the hypocrite no longer. Speak to Percival.' What
+then?"
+
+"Then I should say use your own judgment. Do what seems best."
+
+Hibbert closed his eyes for a moment, as though he were trying to decide
+within himself what was best. At length he opened them again.
+
+"Do you remember that afternoon when I came to you in the writing-room
+and told you Mr. Travers wished to speak to you?"
+
+"Quite well. Nearly all the fellows had deserted me but you. I was
+wretched."
+
+"You looked it. You gave me a letter to post. Do you remember that?"
+
+"Yes," answered Paul shortly. He remembered it but too well. It was the
+letter he had written to Mr. Moncrief, to which that gentleman had not
+deigned to answer.
+
+"When I came back to you in the writing-room you were tracing names on
+the blotting-pad. I caught sight of one--Zuker. You noticed that I was
+surprised at seeing it, and asked me if I knew anybody of that name. I
+told you that I did. That I once knew a boy of that name when I was at
+school in Germany. And then you told me something I'm never likely to
+forget--never likely to forget to my dying hour. You may think it
+strange, but the words came suddenly to my ears when I fell off the raft
+into the river."
+
+"Indeed! What was it I told you?"
+
+"You told me that it was through a man of the name of Zuker that your
+father lost his life."
+
+"Yes, that's true enough. So it was--Israel Zuker. What about it?"
+
+"What about it!" Hibbert made a painful effort to laugh. "Why,
+Percival----"
+
+He stopped abruptly, as the door suddenly opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered.
+
+"What, Percival! You here?" exclaimed the master. "Where is Mrs.
+Trounce?"
+
+"Hibbert wanted me to sit by him, and I'm taking her place for a short
+time. She'll be back presently, sir."
+
+"Are you feeling better?" asked the master, as he turned from Paul to
+the patient.
+
+"Oh, yes, much better. It's done me good to have Percival here."
+
+"I'm glad to hear it."
+
+Mr. Weevil's hand went gently, lovingly over the boy's brow, and he
+watched him anxiously through his half-closed eyes. Paul recalled the
+master's grief when he first saw the boy after the accident, and other
+little traits of kindness--traits which had shown him that Mr. Weevil
+was not altogether the stern, harsh man he had one time thought him.
+None the less, he was sorry that he had entered the room at that moment.
+Hibbert had awakened his curiosity. What was it that was weighing on his
+mind? What had he to tell him about the man Zuker? He wished Mr. Weevil
+had kept from the room a bit longer.
+
+Paul waited, hoping that he would go out. But the master did not move
+from the position he had taken up at the bedside, and his hand continued
+to move caressingly over the boy's forehead. After a minute or two's
+silence he turned to Paul.
+
+"You've had your fair spell of watching, Percival. I'll take your place
+till Mrs. Trounce returns. Hibbert looks very flushed and feverish. I'm
+afraid he's been speaking too much."
+
+What could Paul say? He had no alternative but to obey. Hibbert's eyes
+followed him as he went out.
+
+"What was it he had to tell me, I wonder?" Paul asked himself, as he
+passed along the corridor.
+
+It was a long time before he slept that night. His mind kept travelling
+back over the many events of a singularly eventful day. And when he at
+last dozed off to sleep, he could hear the voice of Hibbert sounding a
+long way off.
+
+"Oh, why didn't you let me die? Why didn't you let me go down in the
+river? Why did you save me? Don't leave me, Percival--don't leave me.
+I'll be quieter if you stay with me a little longer."
+
+Then the voice died away and all was blank.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
+
+
+Two things, outside the ordinary school routine, occupied attention on
+the morrow. The first was the adventures which had so nearly cost
+Hibbert his life; the second the loss of the school flag. The report as
+to the condition of Hibbert was neither good nor bad. There was no
+improvement, but neither had he gone back. His condition, in fact, was
+just what it had been the night before.
+
+The loss of the flag caused the greatest excitement. The masters held a
+meeting about it, but nothing was done. The Sixth Form held a meeting
+about it, but nothing was done--for the simple reason that nothing could
+be done. So far there was not the slightest clue as to what had become
+of it. It had disappeared just as mysteriously as the pages torn from
+the Black Book.
+
+But in one thing there was a manifest change. A manifest improvement
+took place in the school's attitude towards Paul. Whereas previously
+nearly all the school was opposed to him, the greater proportion of the
+Garsiders now came over to his side with a swing; but his own Form, with
+the exception of Waterman, still held aloof. He received a communication
+from Stanley, however, through his cousin.
+
+"Stanley's sorry that he did not lend you a helping hand when he met you
+with Hibbert yesterday," said Harry. "He did not dream that anything
+serious had happened."
+
+Paul had felt it even more than he dared admit to himself that Stanley
+had not come forward on the previous day and given him a helping hand
+when he was struggling along with Hibbert.
+
+"How could he dream that anything serious had happened unless he
+inquired?" he asked, with some bitterness. "Did he really send that
+message?"
+
+"Really."
+
+"It's very kind of him. When you next see him say how obliged I am. It's
+nice to find people so thoughtful, though it may be a little late in the
+day."
+
+Harry felt uncomfortable. He could detect the accent of bitterness
+underlying the words.
+
+"Tell you what, Percival, I wish you and Stan were friends again, like
+you used to be. It's all through that beastly Beetle, Wyndham. I wish
+some one had stepped on him and squashed him first."
+
+"I don't. I can admire a plucky fellow when I see one, even though he
+happens to be a Beetle."
+
+Harry opened his eyes, and stared at Paul. Paul, annoyed at the
+second-hand message he had received from Stanley, and seeing the
+astonished expression on Harry's face, could not help adding: "Yes, I
+can admire pluck wherever I see it. I'm not quite sure whether Wyndham
+isn't worth half a dozen fellows here."
+
+Harry stayed to hear no more. A Beetle worth half a dozen Gargoyles! It
+seemed rank treason to listen to it. Paul felt a savage thrill of
+delight in praising Wyndham and seeing the consternation it had caused
+in Harry.
+
+"He will tell Stanley every word I have said. Getting his cousin to
+bring his mean, petty message. Didn't dream that anything so serious had
+happened, indeed! Pah!"
+
+Alas! alas! The breach between the two former friends, instead of
+closing, was widening.
+
+All the boys who had taken part in the raft incident were severely
+lectured by Mr. Weevil, and were debarred from the usual half-holidays
+during the next fortnight, as well as receiving a heavy number of lines
+to keep them busily occupied during the same period. Then the master
+went on to say:
+
+"Percival has done a brave act. He went to the assistance of Hibbert in
+a moment of extreme peril. He placed his life in jeopardy to save him.
+God grant that his act of bravery may not have been in vain!"
+
+Mr. Weevil paused for an instant, with closed eyes, as though he were
+praying; then, when he opened them again, it seemed as though the
+incident and all connected with it had passed from his mind, as, in a
+few cold words, he turned to the duties of the day.
+
+Paul was more than gratified with this brief allusion to what he had
+done, but he could not help noticing that no reference was made by Mr.
+Weevil to the part he had played in the rescue of Baldry and Plunger.
+His whole thought seemed centred on Hibbert.
+
+"Strange, his liking for the little chap," thought Paul.
+
+It was as though the master were trying to make up to the frail,
+deformed boy for the neglect of others. And whenever Paul now thought of
+him, it was not as he remembered him on that night when he had peeped
+through the dormitory window, and had seen him talking to Israel Zuker,
+but as he had seen him kneeling by Hibbert's bed and babbling to him
+tenderly in an unknown tongue.
+
+The next number of the _Gargoyle Record_ made various indirect
+references to the "Crusoe incident" in the editor's usual vein.
+
+"Missing Link has turned up in the neighbourhood of the river--latest
+mania--punting and desert islands.... Our poet is much obliged for the
+response given to his appeal in our last issue. He was stuck, it will be
+remembered, for a rhyme to 'hunger,' and the rhyme was to be a name of
+some kind--bird, beast, or fish. Curious to say, all our correspondents
+have hit upon the same rhyme and name.
+
+"Honour of the Fifth looking up a bit. Tarnished near sand-pit on
+Cranstead Common, it has just had a washing in the river. Better for its
+bath, though not yet up to its former lustre.
+
+"The Fresher of the Third who was prepared to give hints on the correct
+style in trousers, spats, and white waistcoats has thought better of it.
+Gave it up in order to get some experience of desert islands and punting
+in company with the aforesaid Missing Link. Experience disastrous and
+not likely to be repeated. Has since taken to stamp-collecting and
+ping-pong."
+
+Then, among the usual notices of "Lost, stolen, or strayed," appeared
+the following:
+
+"Pages from the Black Book still missing. Greatest loss of all--the old
+flag of the school. It waves over the school no longer. We have doffed
+the cap and bells, and gone into sackcloth and ashes. Our heart is
+heavy. We can smile no longer. We can only whistle one tune--the Dead
+March. Our heart will continue heavy. Our noble frontispiece will never
+beam again. Our lips will continue to warble the same melancholy tune
+until the old flag once more waves over Garside!"
+
+Stripped of its note of bombast, this last paragraph echoed pretty
+accurately the feeling of the Garsiders at the loss of their flag. Their
+pride had been more sorely wounded even than it had been by the affair
+at the sand-pit. They had been flouted and dishonoured, and, though no
+proof was forthcoming, they felt sure that this insult had been placed
+upon them by their rivals--at St. Bede's.
+
+Paul, meantime, had seen nothing of Hibbert since the day when his
+confession had been interrupted by Mr. Weevil. Frequently he recalled
+that strange scene--the boy's eerie-looking, pain-drawn face, the sad
+eyes fixed on his, the earnest voice, with its suppressed note of
+fear--as he began to unfold to him the secret that weighed upon his
+heart and conscience. It seemed so real, yet so unreal. The face looking
+up into his seemed real enough. It was the words he could not make sure
+of. Hibbert must have been wandering.
+
+At any rate, he had not sent for him since the afternoon he had spoken
+such strange words, and that was nearly a week since.
+
+"Of course, he was wandering, poor little chap, and has forgotten all
+about it by this time. I shall have a good laugh with him about it when
+he gets on his legs again," he told himself.
+
+It was the sixth day after the accident on the river that Paul was
+informed by Bax that a visitor wished to see him in the visitors' room.
+A visitor! Who could it be? Paul had very few visitors to see him.
+
+"Ah, it's Mr. Moncrief; come at last in answer to my letter!" he
+thought, as he made his way to the room.
+
+He was doomed to disappointment, however, for he found, on entering the
+room, that the visitor was a perfect stranger to him--a slim,
+wiry-figured gentleman, with a frock-coat buttoned closely over his
+chest, reddish-brown full beard, and glasses, through which a sharp pair
+of eyes at once went to Paul. Mr. Weevil was standing beside the visitor
+on the hearthrug.
+
+"This is the lad I spoke of, Mr. Hibbert--Paul Percival."
+
+The master briefly introduced them. Paul was at once interested. This
+gentleman with the tawny beard, and erect, alert, military bearing, was
+Hibbert's father.
+
+"I have only recently returned to England, and have but just heard of
+the accident that has befallen my son," said Mr. Hibbert. "You saved his
+life. I was anxious not to go before I had thanked you."
+
+He took Paul's hand in his, and pressed it hard. A boy less strong than
+Paul would have winced under that grip of steel.
+
+"I'm glad to know Hibbert's father."
+
+"And I'm glad to know Paul Percival. It isn't often one meets with a
+brave lad like you."
+
+Again he gripped Paul's hand, and seemed to be regarding him as keenly
+as ever through his glasses to see if he stood his grip without
+flinching.
+
+"I think you would find many who would do as I did--even here at
+Garside. It was my luck to be a good swimmer. And that luck--if I may
+call it luck--I owe to my father."
+
+"Your father taught you, you mean."
+
+"No," said Paul, shaking his head sadly; "I wish he had. He died when I
+was very young--when I could scarcely more than walk; but he was in the
+Navy, and it was by his wish that I was taught swimming. The saddest
+part is that he was drowned--drowned in saving another man's life."
+
+"Really? That is sad. I hope that the man whom your father saved from a
+watery grave was as grateful to him as I am to you."
+
+Paul was silent. He was thinking that if Mr. Hibbert's gratitude were no
+greater than the gratitude of the spy whom his father had saved from
+drowning it would not count for much.
+
+"I trust this will not be our last meeting. When my son gets well again,
+I hope to see more of you. Perhaps we may see a few of the sights of
+London together, if your mother has no objection."
+
+Paul thanked him and went out. He was glad that he had met Hibbert's
+father, though he was not a bit like the man he had pictured. He had
+somehow pictured him with something of the deformity that marked
+Hibbert, with the same sad, pathetic eyes; but they were as unlike as
+could be, except the voice. Hibbert's voice had somehow struck a
+familiar note when he first heard it. So did the father's. But there the
+resemblance began and ended.
+
+That same evening Paul went to the sick-room as usual, and inquired
+after Hibbert. This time Mrs. Trounce beckoned him in.
+
+"He's always asking after you, and it's cruel to keep you out," she
+whispered.
+
+"Who wants to keep me out?"
+
+"Mr. Weevil thinks it makes the lad feverish, but I asked the doctor
+expressly to-day, and he says it will do him good rather than harm to
+see any friend he asks for. Poor little dear, he hasn't many friends.
+His father didn't seem to care over much for him, and his visit was a
+short one. He asked after you directly his father was gone. I've been
+obliged to deny him all this time, but I can't deny him any longer. He's
+dozing now. Step softly to the bed. Won't he be pleased when he wakes up
+and sees you! I've never had a boy on my hands who is half so good and
+patient as he is--I fear he is too patient, poor dear."
+
+It was quite certain that during this time of trouble, Hibbert had found
+one more friend in Mrs. Trounce--the kind-hearted matron, who always
+tried to make the boys believe that she was a perfect virago with a
+heart of flint. Paul followed her on tiptoe to the bed and looked down
+on the sleeper. And as he looked, it seemed as though ice-cold fingers
+were clutching him by the heart-strings, so strangely still were the
+face and form of the little sleeper.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+HIBBERT FINISHES HIS STORY
+
+
+"Is he in pain?" whispered Paul, as he looked down upon the still
+figure, for Hibbert's face looked strangely old and worn for one so
+young, and it was as white as the pillow upon which it lay.
+
+"I don't think so, but I've noticed, Master Percival, that he always has
+that troubled look when he's sleeping, just as though he had something
+on his mind," answered Mrs. Trounce.
+
+Paul's mind went swiftly back to the last time he was in that room--to
+the confession Hibbert had begun and left unfinished. Was it that which
+was troubling him?
+
+"Does he sleep well?"
+
+"Not always like he's sleeping now. Often and often I've heard him
+calling you in his sleep, as I told you just now. I'm good enough for
+shaking up his pillow, giving him medicine, and that sort of thing, but
+I've found out that boys are strange critters to deal with. They want a
+lot of knowing, Master Percival, but I know 'em, and what Master Hibbert
+wants sometimes is one of his own school-fellows to talk to. That's
+better than medicine. Mr. Weevil's very kind to the boy, but he don't
+understand him."
+
+"Doesn't Mr. Weevil like my seeing Hibbert?"
+
+"Well, he hasn't exactly forbidden it, or I shouldn't have let you in;
+but he thinks you excited him when you were with him on the night of the
+accident. But, as I sez, Mr. Weevil don't understand boys when they're
+ill. When Mr. Colville was in charge it was different. He knew boys he
+did. I wish he was back again. Since he went away things have all gone
+wrong."
+
+Paul heartily echoed her wish. Garside was quite different from what it
+had been when Mr. Colville was there. He had hoped day by day that
+intelligence would come of his return; but the Head still remained in
+the south of France, too ill to attend to his duties at the school.
+
+Presently the eyes of Hibbert slowly opened. A glad cry came from his
+lips when they rested on Paul.
+
+"Percival, is it really you? I thought they were never going to let me
+see you again. Thanks, Mrs. Trounce; it's very kind of you."
+
+A faint tinge of colour came to the pale cheek; the look of pain had
+gone from the face. The sight of Paul seemed to have put new life and
+vigour into him. The matron promptly noted the change, and was very
+pleased that she had taken upon herself the responsibility of admitting
+Paul into the room.
+
+"There, there; you mustn't get excited, or I shall be blamed for letting
+Master Percival in to see you, and he won't come again, will you?"
+
+"Of course I won't," answered Paul promptly.
+
+"I'm not the least excited, only glad--glad--so glad!"
+
+He repeated the word three times, to make sure there might be no mistake
+about it, and his thin fingers closed round Paul's, as though he feared
+he might slip away.
+
+"I hope the other fellows haven't got into trouble through me?" he
+asked. "Mr. Weevil would never tell me anything."
+
+"Oh, no; they've got off very lightly, so don't worry about that.
+Plunger is going about as cheeky as ever."
+
+A faint smile flickered over the boy's face.
+
+"Plunger's rare fun. He was really just as much terrified as I was when
+Baldry and the other fellows turned up as Indians on the 'desert
+island.' I can laugh at it now, though I didn't laugh much then."
+
+He lay placidly with his hand in Paul's, then turned pleadingly to the
+matron.
+
+"Let Percival stay with me a bit. It'll do me good, and I'm sure you
+want a little change."
+
+Mrs. Trounce could see that the presence of Paul had worked wonders, so
+she had no hesitation in leaving the two together, giving Paul strict
+injunctions before doing so that he was to ring the bell in case she
+was needed. Immediately she had gone from the room Hibbert turned
+eagerly to Paul.
+
+"I've been waiting to go on with what I was telling you when you were
+last here, Percival. It has lain here--here!"--beating his breast. "It
+has kept me awake at night, and--and the time seemed so terribly long
+and dreary. I watched and waited for your coming, but though you came
+they would never let me see you. Mr. Weevil was the only one I could
+speak to, and I could not tell him what was on my mind."
+
+"Why not? He is very kind to you."
+
+"Why not--why not! When I've told you, you will understand."
+
+"You must not excite yourself. You must not talk. If you do I will ring
+the bell and bring back Mrs. Trounce."
+
+"You wouldn't be so cruel, Percival, when I've been waiting so long to
+see you and speak to you again. It's that kept me back, made me weary,
+and weak, and sick at heart. When I lay awake at night-time I kept
+saying to myself, 'If I should die without seeing Percival again,
+without telling him what is on my mind, God would never forgive me.'"
+
+"If all of us were as good as you, we should be a good deal better than
+we are, and God wouldn't have to forgive much," said Paul tenderly.
+"But, there, don't get excited, and I will listen."
+
+For Paul could now see clearly enough that Hibbert had really suffered a
+good deal of mental pain and torture through not being able to complete
+the confession he had begun to him.
+
+"Thanks," came the eager answer. "It will not take long, for I haven't
+much more to say. Let me see, where did I leave off? Oh, I was speaking
+about the man who was a spy on your father on that day Mr. Weevil
+entered the room, wasn't I?"
+
+"Yes--Israel Zuker."
+
+"I haven't forgotten the name," said Hibbert, with a painful smile. "I'm
+not likely to forget it--never, never, never! For--for it happens to be
+my name."
+
+"Hibbert!" cried Paul.
+
+"My name. Israel Zuker, the man who spied upon your father, and whose
+life he saved at the risk of his own, was my father."
+
+Paul staggered back, as though he had been smitten in the face. Hibbert
+the son of the German spy! Hibbert the son of Zuker! Impossible! He was
+wandering. The story he--Paul--had once told him about his own father,
+and the way he had lost him, had got on the boy's mind.
+
+"Ah, you shrink from me! I don't wonder at it!" cried Hibbert. "Didn't I
+tell you what a hypocrite I was--how wicked?"
+
+"No, no, Hibbert," answered Paul, taking again the hand he had let fall
+from him; "nothing you can say will ever make me shrink from you.
+But--but you have so surprised me. I cannot understand. Let me think for
+a moment--Israel Zuker your father. How can that be when your name is
+Hibbert?"
+
+"That is a false name. I told you once that I knew of a boy of that name
+in Germany. I was speaking of myself, for I spent three years of my life
+at a school in Heidelberg before I came here."
+
+"Then the man I saw this afternoon--the man who thanked me for saving
+the life of his son, was----"
+
+"Israel Zuker, my father--the man whose life your father saved, as you,
+his son, have saved mine. Now can you understand what I have suffered,
+Percival, by having this terrible secret on my mind? When I heard your
+story that day you don't know what I felt--what a mean, contemptible
+cad. I felt that I was a spy on you, just as my father had been a spy on
+your father--a spy on you, who had been so good to me. Oh, it was
+terrible! And then you saved my life, just as your father had saved my
+father's years ago. And that was heaping coals of fire on my head. I
+couldn't endure it."
+
+He covered his face with his hands. He was choking back the sobs that
+seemed of a sudden to convulse his frame.
+
+"I shall really have to ring the bell and send for Mrs. Trounce," said
+Paul firmly.
+
+The threat had its desired effect. Hibbert uncovered his face; the sobs
+died away in his throat. Then Paul put an arm round him, as he might
+have done round a brother, and said, in a softer key:
+
+"Look here, Hibbert--what your father may have done is no fault of
+yours. God only judges us by what we do ourselves; and that's all I want
+to judge you by. You've looked upon me as your friend; I want you to
+look upon me as your friend still. Haven't I said that nothing you can
+say will make me shrink from you?"
+
+"How good, how noble you are, Percival!"
+
+"Humbug! But listen to me--we're getting a little off the track. The
+gentleman I was introduced to in the visitors' room this afternoon was
+your father, Israel Zuker, you say?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Wearing a false beard, then?"
+
+"Yes. But how did you know that? Have you met him before?" asked the boy
+wonderingly.
+
+Paul now understood what it was in the voice of the visitor that had
+seemed familiar to him.
+
+"I met somebody of that name during last vacation, so I suppose it must
+have been the same," he answered, with pretended indifference; "but he
+wasn't wearing a beard. It's a good disguise. What's he afraid of?"
+
+"Well, he's obliged to. I'm telling you this as a secret, and I know I
+can trust you not to repeat it. My father's an agent of one of the
+foreign Governments, and he's obliged to put on a disguise sometimes to
+get information."
+
+"But what information does he want to get that makes him wear
+disguises?"
+
+"I never could quite make out, but I know it's to do with secret
+service. He once told me that every Government has secret service.
+That's all I ever knew."
+
+He seemed to have an uneasy suspicion that his father's profession was
+not a very honourable one, for his head sunk to his breast.
+
+"Is your father a friend of the master's--Mr. Weevil, I mean?"
+
+"Well, yes--more than a friend; but it's another secret I don't want to
+get about the school. Mr. Weevil would be very angry if it did, so you
+must promise me not to repeat it."
+
+And Paul, scarcely knowing all his promise meant, promised him. Then the
+boy leant very close to him and whispered: "Mr. Weevil's my uncle."
+
+This information was almost as startling and unexpected as the
+information that had preceded it. As it fell from Hibbert's lips, Paul
+almost feared that the door would open and Mr. Weevil would walk in,
+just as he had walked in before.
+
+"Your uncle!" he repeated.
+
+"Well, it's this way, you see. My mother was English. She was the only
+sister of Mr. Weevil. I know he was very fond of her, for I've heard
+mother say that he was a good brother, and that she was the only one for
+whom he had a greater love than he had for science. My father first met
+her when he used to give lessons in German and French--he knows three or
+four languages--at the school where Mr. Weevil was master before he came
+here. I think my father was then what they call a refugee. My mother
+died three years ago; then I went to Heidelberg again, and last of all I
+came here. You remember the day--at the opening of the term."
+
+Remember the day! Paul was never likely to forget it. He remembered
+every incident in connection with it--Hibbert coming to him in the
+grounds, the insult put upon him by Newall, and the other incidents that
+followed.
+
+"I remember," he said gravely.
+
+The door opened as he spoke, and Mrs. Trounce entered.
+
+"What, sitting up!" she cried, for Hibbert was still sitting, with the
+arm of Paul gently supporting him.
+
+"Yes; I feel so much stronger and better," he answered brightly.
+
+"I'm glad to hear it, but I think you'd better lie down now. If Mr.
+Weevil came in now he would have a fit."
+
+Paul thought it highly probable such a catastrophe would happen if the
+master had any suspicion of what Hibbert had told him. So he gently laid
+the patient down again.
+
+"You'll come again, Percival?" he pleaded.
+
+And Paul promised.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
+
+
+The revelation that Paul had heard in the sick-room overwhelmed him. It
+was not till he was in the open air that he realized what it all meant.
+The foreign spy, for whom his father had sacrificed his life--the man
+who, in turn, had tried to steal from him the packet which had been
+entrusted to him by Mr. Moncrief--Hibbert's father! Was he standing on
+his head or his heels?
+
+Again he could feel the night wind on his face as he galloped along the
+road to Redmead; again he saw himself confronted by Zuker and his
+confederate; again he felt himself rising in the saddle and bringing
+down his whip on the man's face; again he felt the thrill of joy that
+leapt through his veins as he escaped from the clutches of his pursuers,
+and bounded once more along the road; and then--then that feeling of
+despair when Falcon suddenly sank to the ground, and he found that the
+noble horse was dying. This man, the man for whom his father had died,
+the man who had so relentlessly pursued him on the road to Redmead, the
+man who had caused the death of Falcon--this man of all men Hibbert's
+father, the father of the boy whom he had watched over and protected
+ever since he came to Garside, the father of the boy he had loved as a
+brother, and whom he had risked his own life to save, even as his father
+had risked his life to save the life of Zuker so long ago!
+
+It was indeed staggering. No wonder he hastened into the fresh air.
+Spiders seemed spinning webs about his brain. He could neither see nor
+think clearly.
+
+"Where am I standing?" he asked himself, and simple as the question was,
+it was not so simple to answer, for the world seemed suddenly
+topsy-turvy.
+
+Gradually the night air swept away the cobwebs, and he began to see
+things in a clearer light. This man Zuker was a spy still; nothing had
+changed since the day he had been found in his father's cabin, except
+perhaps that he had grown more daring. A spy! What did that mean? It
+meant that he was a menace to honest people, a danger to England, a
+danger to the peace and weal of the country which had given Paul
+birth--the country for which so many of his relatives had given their
+lives, the country which he loved. There could be no quarter for such a
+man. The longer he was at large the greater the danger.
+
+"He's in my power completely. A word from me will send him to prison,"
+Paul said to himself. "To prison he shall go this very night."
+
+Full of this determination, Paul turned to the gate. It was a couple of
+miles to the police-station, but what of that? He would soon cover the
+distance, and be back again at Garside. So he started on his journey
+with a run. He had not gone far, however, before a still, small voice
+began to whisper plaintively in his ear. It was the voice of
+Hibbert--the pleading, pathetic voice that had become so dear to him.
+
+"Paul, Paul! Are you forgetting the promise you made to me so soon? Was
+it for this I told you my secret? Reveal my story to the police, and you
+will kill me--kill me, as surely as though you were to thrust a knife in
+my breast."
+
+That was what the voice seemed saying to him. Paul pulled himself up
+with a jerk. What was he about to do? Betray Hibbert, the poor boy who
+had entrusted him with his secret! Betray Hibbert, who had clung to him
+and loved him through good report and evil, who had never shrunk from
+him when one by one the boys at Garside had shrunk from him as from a
+leper! God help him! What was he about to do?
+
+He was about to turn back when that other voice whispered to him: "Your
+country first and foremost. You have a higher duty than the duty you
+owe to Hibbert--the duty to your country. Besides, this boy's father
+betrayed your father. Why should you shrink from betraying him? Eye for
+eye, tooth for tooth. Pay back the debt that has been owing so long."
+
+Paul hastened on again, but again he paused as another voice--a voice
+that was full of wondrous and sublime melody--sounded in his ear:
+"Vengeance is mine, I will repay."
+
+It seemed to him as he stood there in the moonlight, the stillness so
+great and solemn that he could hear his heart throb, that God had
+spoken. The danger to his country was not so great that it called upon
+him to give up the secret which had been entrusted in confidence to his
+keeping.
+
+He could not be true to himself or his country by being false to
+Hibbert!
+
+He would wait. Hibbert would get better. If the danger became real, he
+would lay bare his breast to Hibbert as Hibbert had laid bare his breast
+to him. He would tell him, fairly and honestly, why he could no longer
+keep his secret; then Hibbert would be able to warn his father, and he
+would be able to flee from the country he had sought to betray.
+
+Paul felt easier when he had come to this decision. It seemed to him
+that he had divided his secret with God, and that he was now acting as
+He would have counselled him.
+
+And surely His hand had been in it from the first--from the hour when
+he, Paul, had been shielded from his pursuers in his ride to Redmead to
+the hour which had brought the son of his pursuer to a sick bed, and
+induced him to pour his strange confession in his ear. Nay, could not
+the hand of God be seen in it still farther back, from the very hour
+when, at the risk of his own life, Paul's father had sacrificed his own
+life for the life of his enemy? Even at that time the hand of Providence
+must have been at work weaving the strange events which were still
+unfolding themselves.
+
+Paul was on the point of turning back as these thoughts flitted through
+his mind when the sound of a footstep caused him to draw back hastily
+into the shadow of the hedge. Scarcely had he done so than a tall, lean
+figure, with head thrust forward, passed quickly by. It was Mr. Weevil.
+
+"Where is he off to, I wonder?" thought Paul.
+
+The master had been so concentrated in his thoughts that he had no
+suspicion as to who was in hiding by the roadside. Paul's memory at once
+went back to the last part of Hibbert's story--the part which he had
+almost lost sight of in the overwhelming interest of the first part. Mr.
+Weevil was Hibbert's uncle--Zuker's brother-in-law.
+
+Were they in league together? Paul's glance followed Mr. Weevil along
+the road. An overmastering desire seized him, a desire that he could not
+resist. Instinctively, as one in a dream, he followed in the footsteps
+of the master. Presently they reached Cranstead Common. Instead of
+turning in the direction of the sand-pits, the battle-ground of the
+Bedes and the Garsiders, Mr. Weevil turned to the left--to that part of
+it which was more thickly wooded--where there were trees and
+furze-bushes and bramble in wild profusion.
+
+"Where on earth can he be going?" Paul asked himself wonderingly.
+
+Well might he ask, for it was scarcely possible to imagine a wilder or
+more solitary spot. It led to no habitation, none at least that Paul was
+aware of, and he was pretty familiar with the common.
+
+"He can't be on a visit to any one, unless it be the pixies, or
+creatures of that sort," thought Paul. "P'raps he's thinking out some
+scientific problem, and finds this wild part the best place to do it
+in."
+
+He paused for an instant. What was the use of going farther? He was on a
+wildgoose chase, but still the overmastering impulse which had led him
+to follow Mr. Weevil held him in its grip and would not let him turn
+back. So he went on in close pursuit of the shadowy figure in front of
+him.
+
+"Why, he'll be getting to the river presently. Perhaps that is what he
+is making for?" thought Paul as the master plunged deeper into the
+thicket.
+
+The river skirted the far side of the common, and it was precisely in
+that direction Mr. Weevil was travelling. He had never once looked to
+the right or left, so absorbed had he been in his thoughts, but now he
+suddenly paused and looked back.
+
+Paul had just time to hide himself in the friendly shelter of a tree. He
+stood there for an instant, then peeped out from his hiding-place. He
+caught one glimpse of Mr. Weevil, and then, to his amazement, he
+disappeared from view as completely as though the earth had opened and
+swallowed him up.
+
+Paul rubbed his eyes. What was the meaning of it! Where had the master
+disappeared to? Had he been following some phantom, or had Mr. Weevil
+really sunk through the ground? Paul advanced to the spot. There was
+apparently nothing there but bushes. Again and again he pondered on the
+strange disappearance of the master and was unable to account for it.
+
+"Well, if that isn't one of the strangest things I've ever seen," said
+he to himself. "Mr. Weevil was there a minute since, as large as life
+and twice as natural. Now he's gone."
+
+A feeling of awe stole over Paul. Mr. Weevil had always seemed a strange
+being, a man quite by himself, and different from ordinary beings. Had
+his dealings with science taught him some dark secret by which he could
+make himself invisible? But Paul quickly dismissed this wild idea from
+his mind. The days of miracles were past. Whatever Mr. Weevil's
+knowledge of science, it did not lend itself to feats of magic worthy of
+the genii in the enchanted realms of _The Arabian Nights_.
+
+None the less, where was he? What had become of him? Paul examined the
+bushes as closely as the darkness would permit, but could find no trace
+of the master. He stood still and listened. Save for a light breeze that
+was moving gently among the trees, there was no sound. It was as quiet
+as the grave.
+
+"My word! That's one of the greatest mysteries I've ever struck,"
+thought Paul. He withdrew a pace or two, and took up his position
+beneath a decayed elm. Possibly Mr. Weevil might make his reappearance
+in the same mysterious way in which he had disappeared. He waited a few
+minutes, but his patience was not rewarded. Nothing happened.
+
+Paul began to fear that he might be locked out unless he hastened back,
+so he reluctantly retraced his footsteps, determined to visit the spot
+at the earliest opportunity.
+
+He got back to Garside without mishap or incident, but when he lay down
+to rest that night it was not to sleep. He could not help wondering what
+had become of Mr. Weevil, and whether he had spent a night on Cranstead
+Common. He was still thinking when the school clock chimed the hour of
+midnight. About five minutes later he heard a quiet footstep in the
+corridor.
+
+"That's Mr. Weevil," he said to himself. "I am quite sure. I could swear
+to his footsteps anywhere."
+
+He listened till they disappeared in the corridor, then he turned on his
+pillow, and tried to sleep. But he did not succeed for a long time. The
+events of that night had banished sleep.
+
+The next day Mr. Weevil was at his post as usual, and closely as Paul
+watched him he could see nothing unusual in his demeanour. He was as
+grave as ever--the eyes opened and closed in the same manner, most
+wakeful when they seemed most sleepful; and he was as prompt and
+diligent as ever in the discharge of his duties in the school.
+
+"Was it all a dream?" Paul asked himself, as his mind went back to what
+had happened on the previous night.
+
+As that afternoon was a half-holiday, he had some idea of paying a
+second visit to the spot, and continuing his examination of it. But he
+remembered that there was a still more important duty before him. He had
+pledged himself in the presence of Sedgefield and his companions that he
+would get back the school flag, and that once again they would see it
+flying from its old place on the turret.
+
+So far, he had done nothing to redeem his pledge. Those Third Form
+fellows who had cheered him so lustily would think there was no meaning
+in his words, that his boast was an empty one. The time had come for him
+to do something to make good his promise.
+
+He would begin to carry out his plan that very afternoon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+HOW THE OLD FLAG WAS TAKEN FROM GARSIDE
+
+
+At this, the commencement of another chapter, we may as well take the
+opportunity of explaining to the reader the secret which had caused so
+much excitement at Garside, namely, what had become of the school
+flag--who had had the audacity to capture it.
+
+It will be remembered that one of the Bedes who always took an active
+part in opposition to the Garsiders was Mellor. The fact that he had
+been at one time a Garsider made him keener to "score off" his old
+companions, and he was ever to the fore in any enterprise for that
+purpose. But the great idea which possessed his mind, to the exclusion
+of most others, was the capture of the Garside flag. He knew that
+everybody in the school was proud of it. He himself had been proud of it
+when he was at Garside. The school flag at Bede's had no such history.
+It was just an ordinary flag, with a white shield in front, the initials
+of the school, and the school motto, precisely after the fashion of the
+school cap.
+
+So it came about that ever since the day Mellor had been set upon by his
+old companions, and made to crawl on all fours as "a Beetle," the idea
+had come to him that he would like to inflict upon Garside the greatest
+blow that had yet been inflicted upon it by gaining possession of the
+old flag. He thought of it by day, and he thought of it by night; but
+day followed day, and night followed night, and there seemed little
+chance of carrying out his purpose.
+
+There was only one boy at St. Bede's to whom he confided his secret, and
+that was his dormitory companion and chum--Edward Crick. Crick was
+about the same age as Mellor, with the same love of sport, the same
+wiliness, and the same indifference to consequences when once an idea
+had taken possession of him. And that's just what happened. When Mellor
+confided to him his secret, the idea possessed him, and he was just as
+keen on carrying it out as Mellor. If between them they could only get
+possession of the Garside flag, it would be one of the greatest
+achievements in the history of the school.
+
+They knew well enough that it was impossible to obtain possession of the
+flag by open assault. There was only one way--by taking the enemy
+unawares--by stealing a march upon them when it was least expected.
+
+Now, it was clear enough that in order to accomplish this purpose one of
+them would have to steal into the school at Garside and get to the west
+turret unobserved. Audacious as the scheme was, both were anxious for
+the honour; but after discussing the point for some time, Mellor gave
+way to Crick. Mellor was well known at Garside. He would be at once
+stopped were he found entering the school, and questioned as to what he
+had come for. Crick was unknown to the porter, and little known to most
+of the boys. The main thing was to provide him with one of the Garside
+caps. It so happened that Mellor had retained his old cap. There were at
+least twenty other boys of about the same size and age as Crick in the
+school. With the school cap on his head it would be easy enough for him
+to slip into the grounds during one of the half-holidays when most of
+the boys would be on the playing-fields. If any one did notice him, he
+might pass muster as a new boy.
+
+For the rest, Mellor was acquainted with every detail of the school
+building, and gave Crick precise information as to the best and surest
+methods to reach the west turret; so that Crick, as the result of this
+information, knew almost as much about the building as Mellor.
+
+Everything having been thus clearly planned, it only remained to put the
+plan into execution. To this end Garside had been carefully reconnoitred
+by the two boys at every opportunity that offered--that was to say, on
+every holiday. The opportunity they sought at length came--on that
+afternoon when Plunger and his companions were so busily engaged in
+playing the part of Crusoe. On cautiously approaching the school, the
+two confederates found that it was almost deserted. Crick thereupon
+boldly entered the grounds, with the Garside cap on his head and the
+collar of his sweater up, just for all the world as though he belonged
+to the school.
+
+A door at the rear of the building led through a narrow passage to the
+stairs leading to the turret. Crick was not long in finding the door,
+just as it had been described by Mellor.
+
+Entering it, he quickly mounted to the turret, and reached the trap-door
+leading to the roof. It had not been raised for some time, and Crick did
+not find it easy to open; but putting his head to it, and forcing it
+upward with the full strength of his body, it at length opened amid a
+shower of dust, and the next minute Crick was through it and on the
+roof.
+
+His heart beat loudly as he saw only a few yards from him the old flag
+flying from its staff. He did not lose his head, however. He knew well
+enough that, though he had succeeded in reaching the turret, his
+presence there might be detected at any moment. Any one passing along
+the grounds might chance to glance up.
+
+So, lying flat on the roof, he took a careful survey of the scene below.
+An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips; he could not help it. He
+felt like Cortez, the famous discoverer, when, with an eagle eye, he
+gazed for the first time on the Pacific from a peak in Darien. The
+Gargoyles in the playing-fields looked like so many pigmies darting
+between the goal-posts. Beyond them stretched the roadway leading to the
+common; to the left he could plainly see the glint of the sun on the
+river. He little dreamt what was happening there, even as he gazed.
+
+Turning in another direction, there was an almost uninterrupted expanse
+of country till the distance was broken by the spire of St. Bede's
+rising from a background of hills. He never imagined that it would be
+possible to see St. Bede's from Garside. He had thought the distance too
+great, but now the two schools, seen from that vantage ground, seemed
+ridiculously near.
+
+Crick remained for some time lost in the view; then a clock chiming the
+quarter recalled him to his purpose. He glanced again in the direction
+of the playing-fields. There was nothing to fear in that direction. The
+Gargoyles were too much occupied in their game to pay any attention to
+the roof. Crick drew himself nearer to the flagstaff.
+
+Slightly raising himself from his position on the roof, he lifted it
+from its socket, and, possessed of the prize for which he had risked so
+much, drew it quickly beneath the trap-door.
+
+[Illustration: "SLIGHTLY RAISING HIMSELF FROM HIS POSITION ON THE ROOF,
+CRICK LIFTED THE FLAGSTAFF FROM ITS SOCKET, AND DREW IT QUICKLY BENEATH
+THE TRAP-DOOR."]
+
+"Got it!" he cried, with a thrill of joy, as he glanced at the old,
+discoloured flag which had seen so much service--"got it!"
+
+Quickly rolling it round the staff, he next drew from under his sweater
+a cover of American cloth, which he wound in turn round the flag and
+staff, till nothing could be seen of them. No one could have told what
+the cloth concealed. It looked like a bundle of fishing-rods.
+
+Descending the stairs as cautiously as he had ascended them, he once
+more reached the door leading from the turret stairs.
+
+"Now for it," he thought, bracing himself up.
+
+He had only to get outside the grounds and reach the place where Mellor
+was awaiting him. He crept round the side wall, and was just about to
+hasten through that part of the grounds which lay between him and the
+road, when he drew back suddenly. A boy was staggering along in the
+direction of the schoolhouse with a burden of some sort in his arms.
+
+"My stars! Another moment and he would have seen me!" thought Crick,
+with a breath of relief. "What's he got in his arms, I wonder? Looks
+like another chap, as though they'd been in the wars together."
+
+It was Paul, hastening to the school with Hibbert. In another minute he
+had passed by where Crick was hiding. Then Crick heard voices. It was
+Paul speaking to Waterman at the school door. The listener caught the
+word "accident." The next moment Waterman darted past him. The coast
+being again clear, Crick promptly followed in Waterman's footsteps. He
+was not long in reaching the hedge behind which Mellor was awaiting
+him.
+
+"Got it?" was the eager question.
+
+"Yes. Look!"
+
+Mellor could have shouted with joy. Was it possible that the flag was
+actually in their possession?
+
+"Bravo, Crick! It's the biggest thing we've ever scored over the
+Gargoyles. My! won't they be savage! There'll be no holding them in when
+they find their flag's gone. But what's up? There's been an accident of
+some sort."
+
+"I know there has. I nearly ran into a fellow who was carrying a kid in
+his arms. Luckily I pulled up in time. Who were they--do you know?"
+
+"One was Percival, the fellow who skedaddled from Wyndham at the
+sand-pit. I don't know the kid he had in his arms, he must be a
+fresher."
+
+"A fresher! He wasn't much of a fresher to look at. He looked like a
+drowned rat."
+
+The two returned to St. Bede's by the longest but less frequented way,
+and at length reached it without further adventure. They determined to
+hide the flag for the time being, and to confide the secret to their own
+Form only--the Fourth.
+
+The Fourth was very jubilant, as may be imagined, at the feat performed
+by Crick and Mellor, who were at once looked upon as heroes. The flag,
+meanwhile, had been hidden in a barn, standing in a field near St.
+Bede's, belonging to a father of one of the day boys in Mellor's Form.
+
+Frequently they met in the barn, and withdrawing the flag from its
+hiding-place, stuck it in the centre of the floor, and danced round it
+like a band of wild Indians celebrating a victory.
+
+Things were at this pass when Paul came to the decision to visit St.
+Bede's, to see if he could obtain information as to the missing flag.
+Plunger and Moncrief minor happened to be out on an expedition of their
+own that afternoon on Cranstead Common. Plunger caught sight of Paul as
+he turned the bend of the road leading to St. Bede's.
+
+"That was Percival, I'm pretty well sure of it," he cried. "Didn't you
+see him?"
+
+"No. By himself?"
+
+"Isn't he always by himself? But let's make certain."
+
+The two boys ran to the roadway and glanced along it. There, sure
+enough, was Percival striding quickly along in the direction of St.
+Bede's.
+
+"Where's he making for? For the seminary of the crawlers, seems to me,"
+said Plunger. "Queer sort of chap! What can he want up there?"
+
+Harry did not answer. He recalled the afternoon when he had seen Paul
+speaking to Wyndham. He had tried to forget that incident, and along
+with it the incident that had happened at the sand-pit. He had tried to
+think only of Paul's heroism on the river when he had saved the lives of
+three of his school-fellows. He had cheered him as heartily as the rest
+on that day when Baldry had called for "Three cheers for Percival!"
+After, as we have seen, he had tried to heal the differences between his
+cousin and Percival; but now all the old suspicions came back with a
+rush.
+
+"Yes; what can he want up there? Supposing we find out. There can be no
+harm in watching him."
+
+Plunger, as we know, had the bump of curiosity largely developed, and
+his curiosity to know what Paul was doing at St. Bede's caused him to
+forget, perhaps, that in playing the spy he was not altogether making
+the best return in his power to one who had risked so much to save him
+from a watery grave.
+
+So he at once fell in with Harry's suggestion, and the two, keeping in
+the background, followed in the footsteps of Paul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+FRIEND AND FOE
+
+
+Paul, unconscious that he was being followed, pressed forward to St.
+Bede's. As he drew near a boy came from the gates. Paul recognized him.
+It was Murrell, one of the seniors at St. Bede's, who had taken part
+with the others in hustling and jibing at him the last time he came in
+that direction.
+
+Murrell caught sight of him almost simultaneously, so that it would have
+been impossible for Paul to avoid him had he wished.
+
+"Hallo! Turned up again, have you?" cried the youth, coming to a dead
+stop in front of Paul. "I thought you'd had enough of these parts the
+last time you were here. But p'raps you enjoy ragging. There's no
+accounting for tastes--specially the taste of a Gargoyle. Look here, if
+I were you I would cut!"
+
+"I don't think you would. If you were me you would stand your ground,
+and that's what I mean doing," smiled Paul.
+
+"You're jolly cheeky, Gargoyle! Now, look here, take the advice of one
+who wants to do you a good turn--cut! There are a lot of the Bedes
+hanging about, and if they happen to get hold of you, there won't be
+much left of you, I can tell you! Are you insured?"
+
+"No."
+
+"My stars! I wouldn't like to be standing in your shoes--I really
+wouldn't! Tired of life--eh? That's why you're poking your head into the
+lion's den--eh?"
+
+"Wrong again--quite wrong. I've come to see one of your fellows who's
+been very kind to me--Wyndham."
+
+"Oh, Wyndham! The one you ran away from at the sand-pits?"
+
+Paul winced under the jibe. He had not yet got over that weakness.
+Murrell was regarding him curiously. No answer coming from his victim,
+he spoke again:
+
+"You want me to fetch Wyndham?"
+
+"If you would be so kind."
+
+"Well, if you don't take the cake--likewise the bun, and the biscuit! A
+Gargoyle has the superb cheek to ask a Bede to be his errand-boy! Stands
+Scotland where it did? Is the world going round, or is it standing
+still? Am I standing on my head or my heels? Now, then--your last
+chance! If you don't want to go back in pieces, take it!
+Going--going--gone!"
+
+"I don't intend going till I've seen Wyndham," said Paul firmly. "If you
+won't do me the favour I ask, I must keep on till I find some one a
+little more courteous."
+
+He was about to pass on, when Murrell stopped him with a friendly pat on
+the shoulder.
+
+"All right! You needn't get into a wax! You're not such a bad sort of
+fellow, after all, for a Gargoyle! Wait here! Shan't be long!"
+
+His tone had suddenly changed, and before Paul could say anything
+further he was gone. Paul was so astonished that he could scarcely
+believe the evidence of his eyes and ears. In an instant Murrell's
+attitude had changed from a threatening to a friendly attitude. Was it
+meant to mislead him? Had he no intention of going for Wyndham? Did he
+mean instead to acquaint some of the boys who had previously set on him
+of his arrival, so that they might carry out the purpose which they had
+been forced to relinquish? This view seemed certainly the more probable
+of the two, and therefore Paul was very agreeably surprised when, a
+couple of minutes later, he saw the well-known figure of Wyndham coming
+from the college gates towards him. His handsome face lit up with a
+smile as he caught sight of Paul.
+
+"Percival," he said, as his hand went out to him, "I'm so glad to see
+you! So was Murrell."
+
+"So was Murrell!" repeated Paul. "You wouldn't say so if you knew the
+reception he gave me just now. You're joking?"
+
+"No; I was never more serious in my life. As a Bede, he was bound not to
+be over-polite to a Garsider; but he thinks a good deal more of you than
+he did, and so do most of us--all through Murrell. Why? Well, he
+happened to catch a glimpse of what happened on the river a week or so
+ago--came up at the tag-end, but heard all that had happened from some
+of the other fellows on the bank. Murrell and many more here are
+beginning to think that you are too good for a Gargoyle, though you
+didn't cut such a grand figure at the sand-pits. They're beginning to
+believe what they wouldn't swallow at the time--that you're one of the
+bravest fellows at Garside. To think that I'm the only fellow who knows
+how brave! Why don't you let me speak and set you right?"
+
+"No, no, Wyndham! You're very good; but it mustn't be. There are reasons
+against it which you will know some day. But there is a way in which you
+can serve me."
+
+"What way? If I can help you, be sure I will."
+
+Paul thereupon told him the additional misfortune that had happened at
+Garside on the afternoon the boys fell into the river in the loss of the
+school flag. Wyndham listened to the story attentively. He did not speak
+till Paul had ended.
+
+"You mean to suggest, I suppose, that some of the fellows here took the
+flag?"
+
+"To speak frankly, I do; but I know well enough that you've not had a
+hand in it."
+
+"Thanks for your good opinion; but I don't know that I deserve it. After
+all, why shouldn't I have had a hand in it? The fellows here look upon
+you as the enemy, and you look upon us in the same light. Haven't we a
+perfect right to get possession of the enemy's flag if we can?"
+
+"Yes; in fair and open battle. But this wasn't in fair and open battle;
+it was a theft."
+
+"That's rather a hard word, Percival. It's as good as saying some one
+here's a thief!"
+
+Wyndham spoke with greater warmth than Paul had ever heard him speak.
+For the first time he saw an angry light in his eye.
+
+"Forgive me, Wyndham! I've hurt your feelings; I can see that I have.
+And you are the last in the world I would do that to. I'll withdraw
+theft. Let's call it strategy."
+
+The cloud vanished like magic from Wyndham's face.
+
+"That's a very polite and nice way of putting it, Percival," he smiled.
+"You're a great deal more considerate of my feelings than I am of yours.
+I tell you what"--his face became serious again--"it's done me a lot of
+good since I knew you; since I was able to open my heart to you and tell
+you about the little brother who was taken from us years back. I've
+often wished that I was at Garside to stand by you. It must be very
+lonely for you over there."
+
+"No, indeed; it's far from lonely, but sometimes it has been very, very
+hard to bear. If Moncrief had only stood by me, and all the rest of the
+school had been against me, I would not have minded; but----"
+
+"Ah, do not speak of that! It makes me miserable. It gave me a savage
+delight at the time to fight that fellow. It made me a hero here; but
+since I've begun to think a little I feel very far from a hero myself.
+It would have been far better had I never fought. It has made bad blood
+between you and Moncrief; it took from you your best friend, and set
+your school against you. It did worse than that; it has widened the
+breach between St. Bede's and Garside, and deepened the old feud, which
+was beginning to die out. And now that it has been stirred into a flame
+again, it will take longer than ever to die out."
+
+He paused for a moment, as though deep in thought. Paul, too, was busy
+with his own thoughts. He knew not how to answer him.
+
+"Don't speak against yourself, Wyndham, for it pains me a great deal
+more than it pains you. I owe you a lot for the help you gave me on that
+night I went to Redmead; but there's one other debt, greater than that
+even, of which I have never spoken. Speaking just now of your little
+brother has brought it all back to me."
+
+"Speaking of my brother?" repeated Wyndham, with that tremor in his
+voice which had fallen so pathetically on Paul's ear when he had first
+spoken of the dead boy.
+
+"Your brother Archie. I haven't forgotten the name, you see, and I have
+never forgotten--never shall forget--the story. I had never tried to
+understand younger boys till then. We bigger boys rarely do, I'm afraid.
+We think them only good for cuffing and fagging; so there's never much
+sympathy between us. When we pass to the upper forms we only remember
+the cuffs and kicks we got in the lower forms, and think it our duty to
+pay them back with interest. But your story--the story of your dead
+brother--stuck in my memory. I carried it back with me when I returned
+to Garside after vac. The first little chap I came across was a
+fresher--a poor, weak, lonely little chap, who hadn't a chum in the
+school. I thought of your brother. My heart went out to the boy, and I
+said to myself: 'By God's help, I'll stand by you; and I'll be your
+friend!'"
+
+"That was noble of you!" said Wyndham, clasping Paul's hand in his. "Who
+is the little chap? Is he still at Garside?"
+
+"Still at Garside!" repeated Paul, in tones that had died away almost to
+a whisper. "He's the little chap I fished out of the river."
+
+"Ah, then, you've nobly redeemed your promise. You saved his life."
+
+"I cannot say. He is still in bed--still very weak; but the link between
+us kept me strong when all Garside was against me. Once or twice it
+seemed more than I could stand, and I had serious thoughts of throwing
+up the sponge and clearing out of Garside. What was there to keep me
+there? Then I thought of Hibbert, and the thought made me strong again.
+So I kept on, and weathered the storm--or, rather, am still weathering
+it. The thought of the little chap kept me to my duty."
+
+Once more there was silence between them. Wyndham had tucked his arm in
+Paul's. The two were walking along the road to Cranstead Common. The
+bond of sympathy between them had grown stronger and stronger during
+those brief moments in which they had bared their hearts to each other.
+
+"About this flag," broke in Wyndham. "Do you know for certain that it's
+been taken by some fellow here?"
+
+"No; it's only a suspicion. I may be wrong, but I don't think I am."
+
+"When was it missed?"
+
+"On that afternoon when the accident took place on the river. It was a
+half-holiday at both schools. It was waving over the turret when I left
+the school; it had gone when I came back."
+
+"That's over a week ago, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The fellow who took it must have had plenty of pluck. Well, if I can do
+anything in fairness to get you your flag back again, I'll do it; but at
+present it's as great a mystery to me as to you."
+
+The two shook hands and parted.
+
+Plunger and Harry had crept through a hedge, and witnessed a good deal
+of the interview that had taken place between the two, without hearing
+anything. When the two passed down the road--Wyndham with his arm linked
+in Paul's--Plunger and Harry prepared to follow them; but before they
+could move a step they were seized by the legs and thrown to the ground.
+
+"Those Gargoyles!" The words were enough. They were in the hands of the
+enemy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+THE MYSTIC ORDER OF BEETLES
+
+
+To the bewilderment of Plunger and Moncrief minor they found themselves
+in the grip of four figures, with masks somewhat after the fashion of
+those worn by motorists. They had been taken so completely by surprise
+that they made no attempt at resistance. If they had it would have been
+useless, for their captors held them firmly by both arms, and rushed
+them breathlessly across the field as far as possible from the roadway.
+
+"St--stop it, will you?" Plunger at length found breath enough to
+stammer. "Oh--oh!"
+
+The last exclamation was caused by a sharp dig in the ribs, which
+brought his question to an abrupt conclusion. Inspired by Plunger's
+example, Harry thought that he might also venture on a question.
+
+"Who--who are you? And--and--where are you taking us?"
+
+An answer was conveyed to him in the same forcible manner in which it
+had been conveyed to Plunger; but, though the dig in the ribs made him
+gasp, it did not altogether silence him.
+
+"Crawlers--wretched Beetles--that's what you are! Oh, oh, oh!"
+
+A dig in the ribs from both sides effectually closed Harry's lips for
+the time being, while the pace at which his captors took him along was
+increased to such a rate that he could scarcely keep his feet. At length
+they stopped before a barn, and the foremost of the four captors knocked
+upon the door three times with his knuckles.
+
+"Who's there?" came a voice from within.
+
+"Four of the Brethren," answered the youth who had knocked.
+
+"Are you alone?"
+
+"No; we have brought two novices who are anxious to be introduced to the
+mystic order."
+
+Plunger began to prick up his ears. The mystic order? What mystic order?
+And what were they going to do with them?
+
+"Two novices who are anxious to be introduced to the mystic order?" came
+the voice from within. "They wish to become brethren?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"N--n--no!" came in a gasp from Plunger's lips; but another sharp dig in
+his ribs reduced him once more to silence.
+
+"Yes, most worthy K. O. P. They are dying to become brethren of the
+noble band."
+
+"I say, you unkind Beetles," began Harry. "Oh, oh!"
+
+He was silenced by the same unfailing method which had just been brought
+to bear upon his companion.
+
+A short conversation took place between the masked figure who had acted
+as spokesman and the person within. At the end of it the former turned
+to his companions.
+
+"Blindfold the novices. The Keeper of the Portal has commanded it."
+
+Keeper of the Portal? That, then, was the meaning of the initials "K. O.
+P." thought Plunger.
+
+It was getting more and more mysterious, but he did not like the idea of
+being blindfolded. What were they going to do with him--with Moncrief?
+At first he felt inclined to resist, but a sharp twist of the wrist soon
+convinced him that resistance was useless. Harry had come to the same
+conclusion, so they submitted with the best grace they could to bandages
+being placed round their eyes. Then they heard the door open and the
+voice of the "Keeper of the Portal" commanding them to enter.
+
+They entered. As they did so, Plunger thought he heard some one
+sniggering, and again a wild idea crossed his mind that he would strike
+out and make a desperate effort to escape from his captors; but the
+instant he moved he was brought to a standstill by the energetic
+measures which were now becoming painfully familiar to him.
+
+The sniggering, if sniggering it was, soon ceased, and then a strange
+silence reigned in the barn. The silence was a great deal worse to
+Plunger than any amount of ridicule. Who were in the barn? What was
+happening?
+
+He strained his ears to the utmost. He could hear the sound of
+mysterious footsteps walking stealthily to and fro, but no one spoke. He
+stood there and shivered, though the perspiration was oozing from his
+forehead. Was some desperate plot on foot against them? The footsteps
+ceased. All was again so still that he began to think the barn had been
+deserted and that he had been left in it blindfolded, to make his way
+from it the best he could. He was about to call out to Harry when a
+voice he had not yet heard called out sharply:
+
+"Gargoyle with the eyebrows, what is thy name?"
+
+Gargoyle with the eyebrows!
+
+"S'pose that's meant for me," thought Plunger, "but I'm not going to
+answer such impudent questions."
+
+"The noble president speaketh. Answer, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch,"
+came a voice in Plunger's ear, accompanied by a sharp kick on the shins.
+
+Gargoyle with the eyebrows! Gargoyle with the wiry thatch! Was there
+ever such insolence? But that kick on the shins told Plunger that to
+raise any protest would only bring upon him worse punishment, so he
+stammered out:
+
+"Fre--Frederick Pl--Plunger."
+
+"Plunger! Thy name is worse than thy face."
+
+Plunger heard sniggers on every side at this reference to his name, of
+which he had always been very proud.
+
+"It's such an uncommon one, you know," he had often said to his cronies
+at Garside. And now the wretched crew into whose hands he had fallen
+were trying to make fun of it. He bubbled over with indignation, but
+simmered down on hearing similar questions put to his companion in
+misfortune.
+
+He was aroused from these reflections by hearing the chief of the band
+exclaim, in tones of command:
+
+"Make fast the portal!"
+
+He heard the sound as of a rusty bolt being thrust into its socket.
+
+"I say, you chaps," he protested, beginning to feel alarmed again as he
+heard this ominous sound, "I wish you'd stop your larks and take this
+wretched thing from my eyes. If you'll just oblige me, I won't give you
+away--I really won't."
+
+"We're going to take the bandage from thy eyes, but first thou must
+promise, on the banner of our Noble Order, to become a comrade and a
+brother."
+
+"I--I promise," stammered Plunger, anxious only to get the use of his
+eyes again.
+
+"Thou must promise also, by the same sacred emblem, never to reveal what
+thou dost see."
+
+"I--I promise."
+
+The same questions were put to Harry, who was just as anxious as his
+companion to see what was going on, and thought that no possible harm
+could be done in following Plunger's lead. So he gave the same promises.
+
+The bandages, however, were not immediately removed. The two boys could
+hear the sound of footsteps moving round them, and voices chanting in
+some unknown tongue what seemed to be a mysterious incantation.
+
+"Remove the bandages," commanded the chief, when this curious
+incantation, of which the two prisoners could make nothing, had ended.
+
+At this command the bandages were removed. The scene that presented
+itself to the astonished eyes of Plunger and Harry was one of the most
+extraordinary they had ever witnessed. Their four captors seemed to have
+disappeared. Standing around them in a circle were what appeared to be
+eleven beetles standing erect on two legs, instead of crawling about on
+four. On the breast of each was a letter, which, being white, stood out
+prominently from the dark background, and gave to this singular circle a
+still more singular appearance. The letters made up the following:
+
+     M. O. OF BEETLES.
+
+in other words--The Mystic Order of Beetles.
+
+Plunger rubbed his eyes. Was he awake or sleeping? He was wide enough
+awake, but he could not at once grasp the situation. What did it all
+mean?
+
+The reader has doubtless made a better guess at what had happened than
+Plunger. It was in this way. Mellor and Crick, the two boys who had
+gained possession of the Garside flag, had found a good deal of
+amusement at first in making surreptitious visits to the barn, and
+dancing round their capture, but they soon began to long for something
+more exciting. Truth to tell, the capture had not made the sensation in
+the ranks of the enemy they had anticipated--so at least it seemed to
+them. They had expected early reprisals, but none had come. So, after
+they had performed a war-dance round the flag with their companions five
+or six times, Mellor yearned for something more exciting. So did Crick.
+So did the others.
+
+"The Gargoyles don't seem to worry much about the flag after all," said
+Mellor, thoughtfully wiping his brow, after the last of these spirited
+exercises round the Garside standard.
+
+"Not a bit. Seems to me they're only too glad to get rid of the wretched
+thing," remarked Finch, one of the boys who had been envious of the
+daring capture.
+
+"Are they? That's all you know, Finch," retorted Mellor, angry that his
+remark should be taken so literally. "If we could only see them, we
+should find them tearing their hair and gnashing their teeth."
+
+"Then why don't they come after their property and try to get it back
+again?"
+
+"Because they don't know for certain who's got it. They're lying low."
+
+"Well, we'd better do the same. I can't see much fun in hopping round
+the wretched rag. Why the Gargoyles should make so much of it I can't
+make out."
+
+"That's because you've never been at Garside. I dare say if we'd been
+left a flag like that by an old school-fellow who had made a name for
+himself, we should have been as proud of it as they are. It was worth
+getting just to set those bounders back a bit. I should like to see you
+do what Crick did, Finch!"
+
+There were murmurs of approval at this, and Finch subsided into silence.
+Nevertheless, when Mellor began to reflect, there seemed to be a good
+deal of force in Finch's observation. There wasn't much fun, after all,
+in hopping round "the wretched rag." So he thought of a way to improve
+matters. Once or twice the idea had occurred to him of establishing a
+society calling itself the "Mystic Order of Beetles," and using it for
+the benefit of the rivals who had bestowed upon them so contemptuous a
+title.
+
+Directly he mentioned it to his companions it was hailed with
+enthusiasm.
+
+What could be better than making some of those wretched Gargoyles eat
+humble pie under the very flag they were so proud of? So amongst them
+they designed an appropriate costume for the "Mystic Order of Beetles,"
+and the meeting-place and dressing-room were arranged in the barn.
+
+So the society was started. Having started it, the next thing was to
+capture some of the enemy. In order to accomplish this interesting
+purpose, a band of scouts was established for the purpose of reporting
+on the movements of the enemy at the first favourable opportunity. It so
+happened that this was on the very day that Paul went to Wyndham to make
+inquiries about the flag.
+
+The scouts were rather disappointed when they found, from their post of
+observation on the other side of the hedge, that the boy making his way
+to St. Bede's was Percival. There had been already one trial of strength
+with him which had not been entirely successful. Besides which Wyndham
+had championed his cause, and they were bound to respect Wyndham's
+opinion. Furthermore, the fame of Paul's heroism had reached St. Bede's,
+as the reader has seen, and they had lost their former contempt for him.
+They were therefore on the point of turning disconsolately away when
+their eyes were gladdened by the sight of Plunger and Harry following
+Paul.
+
+Here were the prizes they had longed for. The enemy was delivered into
+their hands.
+
+So the scouts had carried off their prisoners to the barn, where their
+comrades were waiting them. What followed we have seen.
+
+Plunger and Harry looked on the extraordinary circle which surrounded
+them in wonder. No word fell from the Beetles. They stood perfectly
+still, as though enjoying the surprise which their extraordinary
+appearance had created in the breast of their prisoners.
+
+"I say, you are a rum lot!" Plunger at length burst out. "Mystic Order
+of Beetles! Ha, ha!"
+
+He burst into a wild fit of laughter, but his laughter was suddenly
+checked by a resounding thud upon the shoulders. He then discovered that
+the Beetles standing around him were armed with sheepskin bladders
+attached to sticks. They did not hurt much, but the noise they made was
+considerable.
+
+"Silence! Thy mirth is unseemly," came from the chief of the circle, who
+was no other than Mellor. "Remember, that thou hast been admitted to the
+Mystic Order of Beetles, and hast promised by the sacred emblem above
+thee to be true to the cause."
+
+The sacred emblem above! The prisoners looked up. There was a flag
+hanging from the roof of the barn--a tattered flag. Plunger rubbed his
+eyes. Surely it was the old flag--the flag of Garside?
+
+"Why--why--that's--that's----"
+
+"Silence!"
+
+The bladders came down in a perfect shower on Plunger's head and
+shoulders. As for Harry, he could not speak. The sight of the flag had
+smitten him dumb.
+
+"Thou hast promised to be true to the cause," repeated the chief
+solemnly. "Should'st thou ever dare to break the vow, thou wilt be
+haunted for the rest of thy life--haunted sleeping and waking by the
+Beetles thou hast betrayed! Describe the mystic circle."
+
+Describe the mystic circle! What in the name of wonder was that? The
+bladders descended upon Plunger as he stood in the centre of the ring
+with his companion, wondering what was expected of him.
+
+"I--I don't know any mystic circles," he stammered in despair.
+
+"On hands and knees--quick!"
+
+Plunger hastened to obey the command.
+
+"Crawl round the mystic circle three times."
+
+Plunger would have refused had he dared, but he dared not; so, amid a
+good deal of suppressed laughter from the Beetles standing round him, he
+crawled round the circle three times.
+
+"Rise, brother!" commanded Mellor, when he had accomplished this feat.
+
+Plunger gladly sprang to his feet.
+
+"Give him the mystic tap."
+
+Thwack--thwack came the bladders on Plunger's devoted head. And Plunger
+almost regretted that he had risen. Harry went bravely through the same
+ordeal. This accomplished, the Beetles joined hands, and galloping
+wildly around the two boys, chanted:
+
+    "Beetles of the mystic band,
+    Wind we round thee, hand in hand;
+    Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call
+    Rest not, pause not, hither crawl;
+    Or to the realms of creepy-crawley,
+    Shivery-shaky, we will haul thee!"
+
+As this incantation went on, Plunger and Harry had a lively time inside
+the mystic circle. By the dexterous application of a knee or a shoulder,
+Plunger would be sent with a run in one direction, while Harry would be
+sent flying in another. They were whirled about from this side to that
+like indiarubber balls. Then of a sudden they would find themselves
+closely embracing each other in the centre of the ring, only to be
+sundered again, and sent flying in another direction.
+
+At length the "Brethren of the Mystic Order" stopped breathless, much to
+the relief of Plunger and Harry.
+
+"Keeper of the Portal conduct our newly-made brothers to the door."
+
+The Keeper of the Portal, Crick, conducted them to the door.
+
+"The time has come to say farewell--for the present," said Mellor, as
+they all gathered round the door. "Don't forget that thou art pledged to
+us by the bonds of our noble order. In token whereof, give them the
+mystic wallop."
+
+The bladders came down with a resounding thwack on the newly-made
+brethren, during which the Keeper of the Portal opened the door. Plunger
+and Harry darted through. Roars of laughter followed them, but they did
+not look back. They did not pause till they were well on the road to
+Garside.
+
+"I say, Moncrief minor," said Plunger, drawing up breathless, "we've
+dropped in for a fine thing."
+
+The same idea had occurred to Harry, but he was not so ready to admit
+it.
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Why, we've joined hands with the enemy--the Beetles. There's no getting
+out of it."
+
+"I suppose there isn't," answered Harry gloomily.
+
+They walked on in silence for a few moments. Then Harry glanced round,
+as though half fearful that some one was following, and whispered:
+
+"I say, Plunger."
+
+"Well, what is it?"
+
+"Did you notice the flag we were standing under?"
+
+"The flag we were standing under?" repeated Plunger innocently. "Well,
+not particularly. What was it like?"
+
+"Like! I believe it was the school flag!"
+
+"You don't say so. Never!"
+
+"I'm positive it was."
+
+"The school flag? This is awful! Couldn't you have let me know? What a
+duffer you are! I would have sacrificed my life to get that flag! I
+wouldn't have stood their nonsense like I did had I thought that was our
+flag. I would have fought them till my last breath. Why--why didn't you
+let me know?"
+
+"I thought you did know."
+
+"And to think that I crawled to them--crawled, with the flag of the old
+school looking on. It's nothing to you--you're only a fresher from
+Gaffer Quelch's; but to me, Plunger, it's--it's----" Not being able to
+find a word strong enough to express his meaning, Plunger suddenly
+turned on Harry again. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Moncrief
+minor, letting me make such an ass of myself."
+
+"How could I help it, Freddy. They made an ass of me too."
+
+"There you go again, always poking your wretched self in. What does it
+matter to you? You don't count at Garside. I do--that's the difference.
+I wish you wouldn't look at these things from such a selfish point of
+view. You're always thinking of yourself--a miserable fresher, as I've
+said, from Gaffer Quelch's. If it ever gets about the school that I've
+been made a Beetle under the Garside flag, what will the fellows think
+of it? I shall never hear the last of it. I shall be roasted all round."
+
+"And serve you right, too!" cried Harry, losing his temper. "A jolly
+good roasting will do you good. It'll take some of the bounce out of
+you. If it hadn't been for you, we shouldn't have got into this mess."
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Plunger hotly.
+
+"It was all through playing the spy on Percival. If it hadn't been for
+following him, those Beetles wouldn't have got hold of us."
+
+"Come, that's good. Your cheek's superb. That's the only thing you seem
+to have brought with you from Gaffer Quelch's. Who was it suggested we
+should follow Percival? Was it me, I should like to know, or one of the
+little prigs from Gaffer Quelch's?"
+
+Harry could not immediately respond. He had forgotten for the moment
+that the suggestion to follow Percival had come from him. But after a
+moment's reflection he answered lamely:
+
+"Yes; but it was you who caught sight of Percival as he was on the road
+to St. Bede's and put the suggestion in my head."
+
+"Well, of all the bosh----Oh, shut up, or put on a strait-waistcoat.
+You're getting dangerous," said Plunger crushingly, seeing that he had
+"scored."
+
+Harry, indignant with himself, Plunger, and all the world, went on
+ahead. But after a bit Plunger caught up to him.
+
+"You needn't get into a wax because I set you right just now. I flatter
+myself there aren't many chaps can score over me when I choose to set
+about them. It's not your fault that you've got too much of Gaffer
+Quelch's seminary for boys and girls about you. I had it for the first
+term at Garside, but I soon grew out of it. And you'll grow out of it,
+too. Fact is, Harry, neither of us is to blame for falling into the
+hands of the Philistines--Beetles, I mean. Let's put the blame on the
+right shoulders."
+
+"And the right shoulders are----"
+
+"Percival. It was through following him we fell into that beastly trap,
+and it seems to me--though I don't like to say it--that Percival has a
+good deal to answer for. What was he doing at St. Bede's? What was he
+doing with that fellow, Wyndham, who knocked about your cousin so
+unmercifully at the sand-pits? Did you notice what good terms they were
+on--Wyndham with his arm tucked through Percival's."
+
+Harry had seen it all, and as Plunger was speaking he recalled that
+other scene he had striven so hard to forget--when he had seen Percival
+and Wyndham together near the school. He had tried to put that from him,
+especially since the heroism Percival had shown on the river. But now it
+all came back with a rush. There was not the slightest doubt that
+Percival and Wyndham were on terms of friendship. No one who had
+witnessed the scene that he and Plunger had witnessed could question it.
+What did it mean? There was something behind it all.
+
+"Yes, I noticed it, Freddy," he slowly answered. "It puzzles me, and I
+don't know what to make of it." Then looking up quickly, as though a
+sudden suspicion had come to him, he blurted out: "I say, is it possible
+that--that----No, I can't say it--it's too horrid."
+
+"Out with it. There's no one to hear you but me. Remember, we're both in
+the same boat."
+
+"No one to hear me but you," said Harry, looking quickly round. "And I
+shouldn't like anybody to hear but you; it's a horrid suspicion that
+came into my mind just now. There must be something between Percival and
+Wyndham, that's certain. I've tried not to believe it; but it's no use
+trying to shut our eyes to facts. Can it be that Percival's plotting
+against his own school, can it be that he is betraying us to the
+enemy--those beastly Beetles?"
+
+"Funny! Just the same thing's been running through my mind. Can it be
+that he's betraying us to the enemy, and can it be"--here Plunger's
+voice dropped to a whisper, as though he feared the very hedges might
+overhear him--"that it was he who hauled down the school flag and handed
+it over to the Beetles?"
+
+"No, no; I can't believe that," cried Harry, clasping his hands over his
+face, as though to blot out the suspicion.
+
+"And I've been trying not to believe it, but what else are you to make
+of it? A Beetle couldn't have got to the turret and taken the flag off
+his own bat. There must have been some one helping him who knew all
+about the school. If it wasn't Percival, who was it? What are we to
+think after what we've seen?"
+
+So it came about that while Percival had been doing his best to trace
+out where the school flag had gone, so as to return it to its old place
+of honour on the turret, the suspicion came into the minds of these two
+boys that he was betraying the school.
+
+Even at the moment that this suspicion was born, Paul was sitting by the
+bedside of Hibbert, with the boy's hand in his. Hibbert had been
+talking, but the tired eyes, which shone out so brightly from the wan
+face, had begun to close. Yet the hand still held fast to Paul's. And as
+Paul looked down lovingly on the face, he murmured to himself the words
+he had spoken to Wyndham that afternoon--"The link between us kept me
+strong when all Garside was against me."
+
+And Paul had need of strength, for the battle had not yet ended.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+A REMARKABLE DISCOVERY
+
+
+The improvement in the school's attitude to Paul did not last long. The
+Garsiders who had come over to him with a swing, for some reason swung
+back with the same alacrity. The juniors who had cheered him to the echo
+in the dormitory now passed him without a word.
+
+Fortunately, Paul's mind was too much occupied just then with other
+matters to take much notice of this change. First and foremost in his
+thoughts was Hibbert. Would he pull through? The progress he made was
+very slow--if, indeed, it could be called progress. One day he seemed
+stronger, the next found him as weak as before. A curious thing had
+happened on the afternoon Paul returned to the school after his
+interview with Wyndham. Mr. Weevil had sent for him to his room. Paul
+thought that it was to reprimand him for something or other. He was
+agreeably surprised, therefore, when the master motioned him to a chair,
+and in a kindly voice, altogether unlike his "school voice," bade him
+sit down.
+
+"I understand that you've visited Hibbert once or twice," he began,
+regarding Paul through his half-closed eyes.
+
+"Now it's coming," thought Paul. "He's going to forbid me visiting
+Hibbert." Then, aloud: "Yes, sir. I hope you've no objection."
+
+"I did object at first to visitors of any kind, because I thought it
+would do the lad more harm than good. But I think the objection may be
+withdrawn as far as you're concerned."
+
+Paul could scarcely believe his ears. Had he heard Mr. Weevil aright?
+
+"He seems to look forward eagerly to your visits, more than to the
+visits of anybody"--a sigh, so slight as to be almost imperceptible,
+escaped the master's lips. "It would be cruel to debar the poor little
+fellow from any pleasure we can give him. Therefore, Percival, I hope
+you will understand that you are quite at liberty to visit him when you
+feel inclined."
+
+"It is very kind of you, sir, and I am deeply grateful."
+
+"You will be careful, of course, not to make your visits too long, or
+not to unduly excite him."
+
+"Oh, yes, sir; I'll be careful of that."
+
+Paul rose to go, thinking the interview at an end. As he did so, the
+master placed a hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"You have been very good to the boy--God will reward you! The fear
+sometimes oppresses me that he will not get over this illness."
+
+The half closed eyes were blinking in a curious fashion. Indeed, Paul
+saw what was suspiciously like a tear slowly making its way down the
+cheek of the master. His emotion was no longer a mystery to Paul.
+Hibbert's revelation had thrown a light upon it. He now knew that the
+man whom he had regarded as without emotion--as one wrapped up
+completely in his equations and scientific formulæ--had yet a deeply
+human side. Hibbert was the son of his dead sister, and he loved
+him--loved him with a love that was a hundred times greater than that
+which the boy's own father had ever bestowed on him. And Paul learnt a
+lesson in that brief interview which he never forgot--that lying deep
+down in the hearts of most men, sometimes overladen by rust, sometimes
+in the midst of decay, may frequently be found a vein of purest gold.
+
+"Don't say that, sir. He was looking better the last time I saw him. He
+will pull round as soon as he can get out a bit."
+
+"I hope your words will come true, Percival; but he's so frail. If he
+were only strong like you--but there, it's useless talking. It must be
+as God wills." Then his voice changed to its old frigid tone.
+
+"You can go, sir."
+
+Thus abruptly dismissed, Paul went out.
+
+"Weevil's a puzzle," he said to himself. "I'm as far off knowing him as
+ever I was; but there seems to be some warm blood in him, and that's
+something. I thought he was all pothooks and hangers at one time; but he
+can't be as bad as that. That shows you shouldn't go by appearances.
+He's not half as black as I painted him."
+
+Paul was very pleased that he could now visit Hibbert without
+restriction, and that same night he visited him, much to the boy's joy,
+and sat by his bed, as we have seen, till he slept.
+
+Thus it was Paul took little heed of the school's attitude towards him
+for the next few days. Then an incident happened which was to absorb his
+attention still more. Thinking of Mr. Weevil, and his recent interview,
+his mind went naturally back to that evening when, devoured with
+curiosity, he had followed him to Cranstead Common. The more he thought
+of it, the more he wondered what could have become of him on that night
+he had so strangely disappeared from view before his very eyes. The
+ground had not swallowed him up, for he had returned to school that same
+night. What, then, was the meaning of it?
+
+Paul had promised himself that he would make an effort to find out; so,
+as he had heard nothing from Wyndham, he seized the first opportunity
+that occurred to visit that part of the common where the master had
+disappeared. He followed the trail which the master had pursued in the
+direction of the river until he came to the thickly-wooded part where
+the trees, furze-bushes, brake, and bramble grew in wild profusion.
+
+This was the spot where he had lost sight of him. At first Paul could
+see nothing but the brambles. Examining the place more minutely, he
+found the bushes curiously divided in the centre. Feeling beneath them,
+his hand came in contact with cold iron. It was a ring, attached to a
+circular piece of wood, rusty and moss-grown, so that in appearance
+there was little to distinguish it from the undergrowth. He found little
+difficulty in moving it.
+
+He thought at first that it would prove to be the entrance to a well,
+similar to the well in the ruins where he had hidden on the night he had
+fled from Zuker; but to his amazement he discovered that it was no
+well, but led to a sloping tunnel cut in the sandstone. That then was
+the place where the master had so suddenly disappeared. For what
+purpose? And where did it lead? It was impossible to tell without
+exploring it. Should he make the venture? Should he enter it?
+
+Paul hesitated for a moment, but only for a moment. The next he entered
+the tunnel, cautiously drawing over the lid which concealed it. The
+passage in which he found himself sloped downward, and was at first
+scarcely large enough to allow him to walk upright. Little of light
+penetrated into it, and he had, therefore, to walk cautiously along,
+like a blind man, making sure of every step he took.
+
+Presently the path seemed to broaden. Extending his arms to their full
+extent Paul could just feel the walls on either side. He proceeded still
+more slowly, straining his ears to catch the sound of footsteps. All was
+silent. It was the silence of the tomb.
+
+"My stars, what a queer place! I wish I could only strike a light, so as
+to have a peep at it," thought Paul. "What can Mr. Weevil do down here?
+It isn't a cheerful place, even for a man who happens to be very much in
+love with his own society."
+
+He came to a sudden pause. What was the use of exploring the tunnel
+further? He could see nothing, hear nothing. So where was the use of
+groping along in the darkness? It was folly, especially when he might be
+precipitated at any moment into some hidden chasm. But folly though it
+might be, Paul could not turn back. A mysterious voice within him seemed
+to be urging him on. If Mr. Weevil had passed along that tunnel in
+safety, why shouldn't he? It must have an outlet somewhere, and Paul
+grew more and more curious to find out what that outlet could be.
+
+"I feel very much like an explorer in darkest Africa," he smiled to
+himself. "Shall I be coming across an unknown lake presently, or a race
+of pigmies? Hallo! What's that? Light at last."
+
+Light it was but of the faintest. It came with a faint streak into the
+tunnel. The darkness was only darkness before, but now fantastic shadows
+seemed to menace Paul at every footstep he took. Feeble though the
+light was, it was enough to show him that the tunnel had broadened
+considerably. Stepping warily along, the light grew stronger at every
+step, until he at length discovered that the path along which he was so
+cautiously travelling led into a cave lit with oil-lamps.
+
+Then he came to a sudden pause again, and his heart beat wildly against
+his ribs, as he caught the sound of voices. The cave was not empty.
+There was some one inside. Who?
+
+As he approached nearer he saw that a curtain was partly drawn over the
+entrance. Paul knew that a false step might betray him.
+
+To lessen the risk of detection, therefore, he crawled on hands and
+knees to the curtain, and eagerly peered through the space nearest the
+wall.
+
+The cave looked quite warm and comfortable. A fire of anthracite, which
+sent out plenty of heat but no smoke, burnt on a hearth cut out of the
+sandstone. Two or three lamps suspended from the roof diffused an
+Oriental glow, while several warm bear-skin rugs were scattered over the
+ground.
+
+A couple of guns and two or three cutlasses were hanging on the wall;
+and what was more astonishing to Paul, several maps and designs. The
+nature of these it was impossible for him to ascertain. He further
+noticed that in one niche of the wall was a photographic camera. In
+another were ship models, in the third the models of torpedoes, engines,
+and machinery of various kind.
+
+Paul had taken all this in at a glance. He had not yet seen the
+occupants of the cave, but there appeared from what he could hear, to be
+only two. They were conversing in low tones at the far end, where the
+lights from the lamps dimly penetrated. After a while the conversation
+became more animated, and the two moved to a table at the centre.
+
+"I think we've succeeded in quieting suspicion," said the foremost of
+the two. As he spoke the light from the lamp fell full upon his face.
+
+It was Zuker, the German Jew!
+
+Paul's glance turned from him to the other man. It was Brockman, the
+burly ruffian who had seized the bridle of Falcon on the night of his
+flight to Redmead--the ruffian who struck the blow which caused the
+gallant horse's death.
+
+"We've succeeded in calming suspicion for the time being," Zuker was
+saying, "and that is a great point in our favour; but still we must move
+cautiously. A false step, and down would fall all my plans like a house
+of cards. We've been very near discovery once or twice, the nearest was
+when that youngster got ahead of us with the packet. You remember?"
+
+"Remember! I'm never likely to forget it," said Brockman. "I could never
+understand how it was the youngster slipped through my fingers."
+
+"Well, it doesn't matter so much as it has turned out, for those
+Admiralty men--the Hansons--have gone to sleep again. They think that
+danger is passed, that Zuker, the man they so fear and dread, is out of
+England."
+
+He chuckled softly to himself. Paul grew colder. He knew well enough the
+youngster they were referring to, no one better, for it was himself. It
+was quite clear that the letter he had sent from the school to Mr.
+Moncrief had never reached him. A staggering suspicion flashed into his
+mind. He recalled that he had entrusted the posting of that letter to
+Hibbert. Could it have been that Hibbert had failed him, or worse, could
+it have been that Hibbert had deceived him? Was he not the son of Zuker?
+But the suspicion only dwelt in his mind for one brief moment, and he
+felt indignant with himself that it had rested there so long.
+
+How could he doubt Hibbert, the one boy at Garside who had so clung to
+him and who was at that moment lying on a bed of sickness?
+
+"Heaven forgive me!" he said to himself; then he caught the voices of
+the men as they again spoke, and listened eagerly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+THE "FOX-HOLE"
+
+
+"They really believe you're out of England. You're quite sure of that?"
+questioned Brockman, in his thick, guttural voice.
+
+"As sure of it as you're standing there," answered Zuker. "The search
+for me went on actively for a fortnight, and then dropped. How should
+they suspect a hiding-place like this? How should they suspect that when
+the hounds were in full chase of the fox, he had a hole to retreat to
+where they could never follow?"
+
+"Ha! ha!" chuckled Brockman; "we ought to call it the Fox-Hole. I only
+wish we had the youngster in it who slipped through my fingers that
+night on the road to Redmead."
+
+"Do you really?" said Paul to himself. "Well, the youngster's obliged
+you, and yet you don't seem to be grateful to him."
+
+"_Zut! zut!_ Don't worry about him. He's only a cipher--a pawn in the
+great game we have in hand. If we win, it'll be for a prize worth
+winning--fame and fortune," went on Zuker, as he strode to and fro with
+rapid strides. "Yes, fame and fortune, and we shall have dealt a
+staggering blow at a country that we hate. The risk is great, but the
+stakes are greater still, and each day makes our position surer."
+
+"Surer? Do you think so? Sometimes it seems to me, master, that we're
+standing on the very edge of a deep precipice, and that one day we shall
+make a false step, and then----"
+
+Brockman did not finish the sentence, but gave a significant shrug of
+the shoulders which was much more eloquent than words.
+
+"Das ist recht--that is right; I have never hidden from you the danger.
+It is true that one false step might spoil all my plans, but that only
+makes the game more worth the winning. And listen, Brockman, we must not
+make that false step. We made one on that night we let the boy get
+through with the cipher to Redmead. We must not make another."
+
+Paul's ears tingled as he listened. Notwithstanding the peril in which
+he stood, his heart beat with joy. The words of Mr. Moncrief came back
+to him: "You have not only done a great service for me and my brother,
+Paul, but for your country." He had almost forgotten those words in the
+whirl of events that had since happened at Garside, but now they came
+flashing back, shining out vividly as a beacon in the darkness around
+him.
+
+"No; we must not make another," answered Brockman, sending his fist
+vigorously into the palm of his hand to emphasize his words. There was
+silence between the two for a moment, then it was again broken by Zuker.
+
+"Those ancestors of yours were dull dogs, Brockman, but there must have
+been some grit in them to have got up to Chatham. See, they got to this
+point." Paul could see that a chart was spread out upon the table, and
+that Zuker was pointing with his finger to a place on it. "Here is the
+River Medway, which, as you know, can be reached through this tunnel."
+
+The river through that tunnel! Was he awake or dreaming? Paul could
+scarcely believe the evidence of his ears. His heart thumped so loudly
+against his ribs that he feared the conspirators might hear him.
+
+"A chain had been drawn across the river, for all England was in a state
+of alarm at the approach of the Dutchmen," went on Zuker.
+"Fortifications had been added to Sheerness and Upnor Castle just here."
+
+Brockman bent over the chart and followed the finger of Zuker.
+
+"Just there. And the chain--what happened to the chain?"
+
+"Sheerness was first taken, and then, taking advantage of a spring tide
+and an easterly wind, the Dutch broke the chain."
+
+"Broke it? But wasn't it fortified?"
+
+"It was guarded by three ships, but the Dutch took them. They played
+havoc with several other vessels, and advanced with six men-o'-war and
+five fireships as far as Upnor Castle, where they burned three more.
+That was good, wasn't it?"
+
+"Splendid! Real pluck! Dull dogs and slow, as you say, but real grit.
+I'm proud of my Dutch fore-fathers."
+
+It was clear that Brockman, if not himself a Dutchman, was of Dutch
+descent.
+
+"The Dutch," continued Zuker, "then fell down the Medway--see, in this
+direction." His finger again went to work over the chart. "They sailed
+next to Portsmouth; they assaulted Harwich, and then sailed again up the
+Thames as far as Tilbury--this point here--where they were repulsed.
+What has been done once can be done again. Why not?"
+
+Zuker, in his excitement, strode over in the direction of the curtain.
+Paul drew back and waited. Had he seen the curtain move? Did he suspect
+there was a listener behind? For a moment Paul scarcely breathed. Then
+he heard Zuker pacing back to the table, and breathed freely again.
+
+"You forget the difference in the times," answered Brockman. "Then there
+were no ironclads."
+
+"I'm forgetting nothing. Ironclads are useless without the brains behind
+them. Battles nowadays are won not so much on the battlefield as by the
+Intelligence Department--the Secret Service"--his voice went almost to a
+whisper--"the service to which you and I belong."
+
+A cold feeling of horror and repulsion stole over Paul as he listened.
+He felt as he might have felt in listening to the rattle of a deadly
+snake. These men were in the Secret Service of another country--spies,
+collecting material for the enemy--material which might be used at any
+time with deadly effect against England, dear old England! And as he
+looked, a mist seemed to rise before him, and suddenly out of the mist
+he saw a strange picture--the cabin of a ship, a man bending over a
+dispatch-box, and rapidly turning over the papers within. Then the door
+of the cabin opened. An officer, with a bronzed, noble face swiftly
+entered, and seized the spy at the dispatch-box. The spy threw himself
+at the officer's feet and pleaded for mercy. Paul saw it all as clearly
+as though it were on a screen before him. Looking at the spy's face, he
+knew it for Zuker. Looking at the officer's face, he knew it for his
+father's.
+
+As the scene faded, he felt that he, too, must spring out on Zuker and
+denounce him. "Spy--traitor! You're the man who tried to betray my
+father! You are the man who would betray Britain!" By some impulse over
+which he had no control he tried to shriek out the words. His lips
+moved, but fortunately no sound came from them.
+
+The next instant he was brought to his senses by the sound of
+footsteps--footsteps in the tunnel by which he had entered. Instantly he
+realized the position in which he stood. The new-comer, whoever he was,
+was probably a confederate of the two spies inside, and would be bound
+to pass into the cave through the curtain behind which he was hidden.
+Quick as thought he retreated a pace or two, well out of the light of
+the lamps, and drew himself close up to the wall.
+
+Nearer and nearer came the footsteps. Presently Paul could just see the
+shadowy outline of a man's figure. Then he passed him, coming so close
+that his coat brushed against him. The figure paused. Paul held his
+breath, and for one brief instant thought that he had been discovered.
+The next, the curtain was lifted aside, and the new-comer passed inside
+the cave.
+
+"Ah, Weevil! What news?" came the voice of Zuker.
+
+Weevil! Paul crept again to the curtain, and peered through the side. It
+was the master, sure enough. He wore a cape, with the collar turned up
+and buttoned tight round the chin.
+
+"Still the same," answered the master.
+
+"No change?"
+
+"No change to speak of. Sometimes he's a little better; then he goes
+back again, and is worse. Poor little chap! it makes my heart bleed to
+see him."
+
+Then Paul knew they were speaking of Hibbert.
+
+"Your heart! What of mine?" exclaimed the man fiercely. "You always
+speak as though you were the only one who cared for the boy. And a lot
+of good you've done for him. It was through you I had him trained as an
+English boy. His mother was English, said you. It was through you he
+went to Garside, because you could take greater care of him, said you.
+What care? Himmel, himmel! You let those imps of Satan torture him;
+through you he has been brought to the door of death."
+
+"Cease, man--cease to torture me!" cried the master.
+
+Paul listened in wonder, not unmixed with awe. He had heard that note of
+anguish in the master's voice before--on that night when he had seen him
+by Hibbert's bed; but the face, with the light of the lamp flickering on
+it, might have been hewn from the limestone. It was as stern and rigid
+as Fate itself.
+
+"I have no wish to torture you; but it sickens me to hear you speak
+about that boy as though it were no concern of mine--as though you were
+the only one who cared for him. I tell you again, I was a fool to let
+him go to Garside."
+
+No answer came for a few moments. It seemed as though Mr. Weevil were
+struggling with his feelings. When he at length spoke, his voice was
+calm again. It had resumed that calm, deliberate tone with which Paul
+was so familiar.
+
+"I would like to speak to you for a few minutes alone, Israel."
+
+Brockman took the hint, and retreating at the other entrance of the
+cave, left the two together.
+
+"I wished to speak with you alone, because I have discovered one or two
+matters which will interest you. You were struck, you may remember, with
+the name of the boy who saved Tim's life?"
+
+"Yes; what of it?"
+
+"You thought that he might be the son of that Captain Percival who years
+ago saved your life at the risk of his own. I knew that the boy's father
+was dead, and on examination of the school-books, I found that he was a
+naval officer. I was not aware of the circumstances under which he met
+his death, however. I have since discovered that he was drowned at sea
+'whilst trying to save the life of a spy'--pardon me the word, but so
+the record runs."
+
+"_Ach!_ Is it possible?" came hoarsely from Zuker's lips. "I had my
+suspicions when I first questioned him."
+
+Paul pressed his ear closer to the side of the curtain. He was anxious
+not to lose a word of what was spoken, for he knew that he was "the boy"
+to whom the master was referring; that "Tim" was, of course, Hibbert.
+
+"I have discovered, further, that it was this same boy--Paul
+Percival--who got through with that letter to Redmead."
+
+"The same? Ach Himmel! I caught but a glimpse of him in the darkness
+that night."
+
+"The hand of a Higher than man is in it. You cannot escape it. Be warned
+in time. Give up this scheme of yours; if not for your own sake, for the
+sake of your son."
+
+"Give up the scheme--the scheme for which I have worked so long. The
+scheme which, day by day, brings me nearer to fame and fortune. You talk
+like a madman. It is more to me than life itself--more to me than the
+life of fifty sons!"
+
+A cry of pain came from Mr. Weevil's lips.
+
+"I know you well enough--you have no love for my scheme. Your heart is
+in what you call science, and in the boy. You wish to frighten
+me--frighten me from the work which every day draws nearer to success.
+Shall I tell you what for? So as to drive me back to the Fatherland that
+you may keep all to yourself, my boy--the boy of your dead sister. Ach!
+I see through your scheming!"
+
+"Hush, man--hush! Is it to hear reproaches from your lips that I have
+risked so much--that I have involved myself in these schemes of yours
+which may mean my ruin?" Mr. Weevil's voice was stern, fearless; but as
+quickly turned to a softer key. "Let us not quarrel, Israel. Heaven
+forbid that we should quarrel over the boy whom we both love in our own
+peculiar way. Remember that his life is still in jeopardy."
+
+They shook hands, and then Mr. Weevil turned towards the curtain behind
+which Paul was hidden.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+THE LETTERS AT THE TUCK-SHOP
+
+
+This time Paul did not move--he could not. He was as one rooted to the
+spot. Fortunately, Mr. Weevil did not come to that side of the curtain
+where he was crouching, but passed through on the other side. It was not
+till he had hastened past Paul that the power of movement returned to
+his limbs. To remain there longer was useless. He had heard enough--more
+than enough. But he was unable to think clearly in that tunnel. The air
+seemed to stifle him; he must get outside.
+
+So he followed in the master's footsteps, taking care, however, to keep
+a good distance between them. At length he reached the entrance. He
+waited a minute or two, then cautiously lifted the circular piece of
+wood that covered the entrance, and made his way through the undergrowth
+to the open.
+
+By that time Mr. Weevil had disappeared from view.
+
+"Am I awake or dreaming?" Paul asked himself, as he drew a deep breath
+of relief.
+
+It seemed, indeed, like a dream--or, rather, a nightmare--that cave, the
+two conspirators, the conversation he had overheard about the taking of
+Sheerness by the Dutch, the advance on Upnor Castle, and, lastly, the
+appearance on the scene of Mr. Weevil.
+
+What was he to do? How was he to act? He was face to face with the same
+dilemma that had confronted him when Hibbert had confessed to him his
+relationship to Zuker. The more he thought of it, the more difficult it
+seemed to move. He was bound hand and foot by the promise he had made
+to Hibbert. How could he be false to that promise--how could he give
+information which might cause his death?
+
+Strange to say, his confidence in Mr. Weevil had grown by what he had
+overheard at that interview. It was true enough that the master seemed
+involved in some way in the schemes of Zuker, but it seemed equally
+certain that he was against them. The words he had overheard were still
+ringing in his ears: "You wish to drive me back to the Fatherland, and
+keep all to yourself, my boy--the boy of your dead sister!" Things
+seemed clearer to Paul. The master's purpose seemed clearer. It was his
+love for his nephew--for Hibbert--which had involved him in the schemes
+of Zuker. Paul had disliked and suspected Mr. Weevil, but, curiously
+enough, he now seemed to understand better than ever he had understood
+before, and that understanding was to the advantage rather than the
+disadvantage of the master.
+
+"The hand of a Higher than man is in it." Those were the master's words.
+They had been spoken from his heart; there was no doubt of that. Though
+they had failed to move Zuker, they had moved Paul strangely. Yes; the
+hand of a Higher than man was in it, and the designs of Zuker would
+certainly be overturned.
+
+"I wish Mr. Moncrief had answered my letter, though," he said to
+himself, as he returned to the school. It must have miscarried. He
+determined to question Hibbert about it again that very evening.
+
+So when the evening came he went to the sick-room, and the nurse, who
+was now in attendance, gladly vacated her place at the bedside to him.
+As usual, Hibbert had been looking forward to Paul's visit, and the thin
+white face was at once all sunshine.
+
+"I'm feeling ever so much better," he said, in answer to Paul's
+inquiries. "I'm feeling quite strong. I shall soon be out again if I go
+on like this. Do you think the fellows will be pleased to see me?"
+
+"Of course they will!"
+
+"I was never very popular, you see," Hibbert went on thoughtfully. "It
+was all my fault. I never took any interest in the sports. I mean to be
+different when I get off this wretched bed--turn over a new leaf; go in
+for footer, cricket, and that sort of thing. I don't see why I shouldn't
+do as well as the rest of them, do you, Percival?"
+
+"I don't see why," answered Paul cheerfully.
+
+"And there's a lot of other things I mean to do. Do you know, I've been
+thinking over so much to-day about our being at the same school--how
+wonderful it all is that you and I should be at Garside. And when I get
+out again, do you know what I mean to do?"
+
+Paul shook his head. He was looking at the face, which seemed to grow
+smaller and smaller, and wondering whether Hibbert would get out again.
+
+"I mean to do my best to pay on that debt my father owed your
+father--the debt that never has been paid. That'll be something to live
+for and work for, and God helping me, I'll do it--do it! Don't say that
+you don't wish it--that you don't want it."
+
+"Certainly not," answered Paul, very softly, falling in with his mood.
+"You shall do as you think best when you get out again."
+
+There was silence between them for a few moments. Hibbert lay with his
+hands crossed on his breast and his eyes upturned to the ceiling.
+
+"What have you been doing this afternoon, Percival?" he suddenly asked,
+as his eyes went back again to Paul's face.
+
+The question took Paul by surprise. How could he tell Hibbert what he
+had been doing that afternoon--the discovery he had made, what he had
+seen and what he had heard in the cave?
+
+"Doing?"
+
+"Yes. Half-holiday, wasn't it? I still keep count of holidays, you see."
+
+Hibbert smiled.
+
+"Oh, I went for a walk!"
+
+"By yourself?"
+
+"By myself." Paul could see that the boy's eyes were scanning his face
+curiously, so he added quickly: "I'm rather fond of walking by myself."
+
+"Have you heard anything about the flag?"
+
+"How did you come to know that it was gone?" Paul asked, astonished, for
+he had thought it better not to trouble him with the information.
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Trounce told me. I get her to tell me any special news. I like
+to know what's going on in the school. Matron's a good sort. It was a
+beastly shame to take the flag, whoever did it. Have they got any clue?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+"I expect the Beetles had a hand in it. What do you think?"
+
+"I scarcely know what to think. It's a mystery. You haven't been
+climbing to the turret in your sleep, and hauling the flag down just for
+the fun of the thing, have you?"
+
+The idea quite tickled Hibbert, for he laughed outright.
+
+"By the by," said Paul, turning the conversation to the purpose for
+which he had come to that room, "you recollect that letter I gave you to
+post a few weeks back?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You're quite certain you posted it?"
+
+"Quite certain. I think that I said so at the time."
+
+Paul noticed that though Hibbert was quite certain that he had posted
+the letter he spoke with some hesitation.
+
+"Yes, yes; you said so at the time--that's quite right. But I was
+wondering whether by any chance you might have given it to some other
+boy to post."
+
+"No; I put it in the letter-box with my own hands." Hibbert again
+hesitated for a moment, then added; "Something did happen, but I did not
+think it worth while to worry you about it."
+
+"What was it?" Paul asked eagerly.
+
+"I was blockhead enough to run full tilt against Mr. Weevil when I got
+outside, and--and he caught sight of your letter."
+
+"Caught sight of my letter! And what did he do?"
+
+"Made me go to his room. He asked me who sent me with the letter, and I
+was obliged to tell him. It didn't matter, did it?"
+
+"It didn't matter," repeated Paul, his throat suddenly becoming parched.
+"Well, well, what happened then?"
+
+"He took the letter to his room, but came back with it in a minute or so
+and handed it back to me. He said that you had broken the rules of the
+school in sending off a letter without the knowledge of the masters, but
+he would overlook the offence, for--for my sake. That's the reason I
+didn't make a fuss about it to you."
+
+"He said that--Mr. Weevil said that? And he gave you back my letter?
+You're quite certain it was the same?"
+
+"Oh, quite certain! I thought perhaps he might have opened it, as he
+said he had a right to, so I looked at it to make sure it was the same.
+It was the same--in your handwriting. I could tell that anywhere. But
+what makes you ask? Has it miscarried?"
+
+"I hope not. I haven't had an answer yet--that's all. I dare say I shall
+get one presently, so don't you worry about it."
+
+To prevent him doing so, Paul turned the conversation again to other
+matters, and then went out. The information Paul had given him about the
+letter set him thinking. What had the master done with his letter in the
+few brief moments he had had it in his possession away from Hibbert? Had
+he opened it and read it? If so, was the letter he had handed back to
+Hibbert to post the same letter that he--Paul--had written? to Mr.
+Moncrief? Hibbert was sure that it was--sure that it was in his
+handwriting. In any case, a letter had been posted to Mr. Moncrief. What
+letter was it?
+
+In this state of perplexity, Paul determined to write briefly to Mr.
+Moncrief again. That was the only way in which all doubt could be ended.
+
+So he wrote a note stating that he had written a letter of some
+importance a few weeks since, and wishing to know as soon as possible
+whether or not it had been received. This letter he directed the same as
+before--"W. Moncrief, Esq., Redmead, Oakville, Kent." He determined that
+this time he would post the letter himself; so the next day, watching
+his opportunity, he slipped from the grounds, and posted it at the
+village post-office.
+
+"It can't go wrong now," he said to himself, as he retraced his
+footsteps.
+
+Meanwhile, Plunger and Moncrief minor were thrown into a state of great
+excitement by finding letters awaiting them at the adjacent tuck-shop.
+Plunger tore the envelope open.
+
+Immediately he drew out the letter and glanced at it he groaned. His
+groan was echoed by Harry. On the top of Plunger's letter was a
+rudely-designed facsimile of a cockroach. On the top of Harry's letter
+was a similarly grotesque design.
+
+Beneath it, in scarcely less grotesque handwriting, as though one of the
+legs of the cockroach had been dipped in ink and made to trace words
+upon the paper, was the following:
+
+"Brother of the Mystic Order,--Greeting from the Brethren. Meeting
+to-morrow afternoon at headquarters. Time, half-past three sharp. Be not
+absent at thy peril."
+
+Then followed the lines which Plunger so well remembered--the words
+which had formed part of the incantation of the "Mystic Circle:"
+
+    "Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call,
+    Rest not, pause not, hither crawl,
+    Or to the realms of Creepy-crawly,
+    Shivery-shaky, we will haul thee."
+
+Plunger groaned again. Harry again echoed it.
+
+"What are you making that row for, you little ass?" cried Plunger
+testily.
+
+"Thought I'd cheer you up a bit. You look just awful, Plunger!"
+
+"You look worse than that! Ever seen a petrified mummy? No? Well, just
+look at yourself in the glass, then! What's your letter about?"
+
+They exchanged letters, and found that they were in precisely the same
+terms--that both were summonses for them to appear before "the Mystic
+Order" at the same date and hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+"FORGIVE, AND YE SHALL BE FORGIVEN"
+
+
+The two boys looked at each other blankly. How were they to act? What
+was to be done? If they refused to obey the summons from the "Mystic
+Brethren," they knew not what would be the penalty. The more they looked
+at the letters, with their grotesque design, the more imposing they
+seemed.
+
+"What's to be done, Freddy?" asked Harry, when they were outside the
+shop.
+
+"We shall have to go, I suppose!" answered Plunger despondently. "We've
+given ourselves away, you see. We're one of them--one of the wretched
+Beetles. We've taken the vow of allegiance. They've got us in a tight
+corner."
+
+"What's the 'realms of Creepy-crawly, Shivery-shaky' I wonder?" asked
+Harry, in an equally dejected tone.
+
+"Some ditch with plenty of toads and slime about it, I expect. You
+needn't be anxious. We'll know soon enough!" groaned Plunger. "I wish to
+goodness you'd been anywhere before you let me in for this mess! Why did
+they ever let you loose from Gaffer Quelch's?"
+
+"Oh, shut up, Plunger! You're tiring! After all, you wouldn't make such
+a bad Beetle. You can crawl a lot better than you can punt, and----Oh,
+oh!"
+
+Plunger had caught him by the ear and given it a vigorous pull. Harry
+returned it by kicking Plunger on the shins. Having thus equalised
+matters, they became once more on friendly terms.
+
+"Look here, Harry, we're both in the same boat. Supposing we don't go?"
+
+"Then what'll happen?"
+
+"I don't know. We shall have to chance that. They can't eat us."
+
+"Oh, but I'm not afraid! It's not that; but--but I don't somehow like
+breaking my word."
+
+"Neither do I. It's jolly awkward; yet, come to think of it, I don't see
+why we shouldn't."
+
+"We promised to be true to the cause."
+
+"Yes; but the promise was got from us by force, and that isn't binding.
+I've heard my pater say so."
+
+"Oh, he's in the glue line, and ought to know what's binding! Stop it,
+Plunger!"--as Plunger seized him once more by the ear. "That's the worst
+of you. You don't know a compliment when you hear one. Don't I wish my
+pater was in the glue line! It's fine stuff. Made out of horses' hoofs,
+isn't it? Well, go on. Not binding, you said. How do you make that out?"
+
+"Haven't I said, stupid--because it was got from us by force? But don't
+take my word for it. Let's ask your cousin. Will that satisfy you?"
+
+Harry at once consented. He still had the highest admiration for his
+cousin, notwithstanding the fact that he had been defeated by a Beetle.
+They returned to the school, where they were not long in finding
+Stanley, who had just been joined by Newall.
+
+"We want to talk with you alone, if--if you wouldn't mind, Stan," said
+Harry.
+
+"You don't think that I'm going to clear out for any of you Lower Form
+cubs, do you?" sneered Newall.
+
+"Oh, you can speak before Newall as you would before me, Harry! Come,
+fire away!"
+
+Harry still hesitated. He could not forget how Newall had served him
+when he first came there, but while he was hesitating Plunger began:
+
+"This is what we want to know. Supposing any fellows in this school--we
+won't mention names--happened to be captured by the enemy, and supposing
+the enemy forced them into a--a----"
+
+"Secret society," put in Harry, as Plunger came to a standstill.
+
+"Yes, secret society. A kind of brotherhood--vendetta, with masks and
+knives and forks--daggers, I mean--and that sort of thing----"
+
+"Now, look here, Master Plunger, stop plunging! Drop it, and come to the
+point!" said Stanley firmly. "What do you want to know? Come, Harry;
+you're not so gassy. Perhaps we can get some sense out of you."
+
+Harry explained as well as he was able what they wanted to know. Stanley
+at once decided that a promise given under such circumstances was not
+binding, and his opinion was, of course, backed up by Newall, who was
+eager to know what this mystery could mean. Thus assured, Plunger and
+Harry told them all that had happened on the afternoon they had been
+captured by the "Mystic Brethren." As may be imagined, Stanley and
+Newall were greatly excited by the story--especially that portion of it
+referring to Paul.
+
+"Now are you satisfied?" cried Newall triumphantly. "Didn't I always say
+what Percival was? He's not only a cur, but a traitor!"
+
+And Stanley, who in days gone by would have fiercely resented the
+slightest reflection on Paul, allowed the words to go unchallenged.
+
+"You're quite certain that it was Percival you saw?" he at length asked.
+
+"Am I certain that I see you?" answered Plunger. "Besides, Harry saw
+him, too. Both of us couldn't be mistaken."
+
+"There wasn't much mistake, Stan. I wish there had been. That makes the
+second time I've seen them together."
+
+"If you don't believe us, you'd better put to him the question straight.
+Send for him now, and put him face to face with us. See if he'll deny it
+then!"
+
+"I think you're right, Plunger. We'll send for Percival, and see what he
+has to say. You go and fetch him, Harry. You'll find him somewhere about
+the grounds.
+
+"One moment. Don't be in a hurry. We've got an artful young gentleman to
+deal with, and if we want to find things out, and pay back the Bedes in
+their own coin, we shall have to be artful as well. We mustn't show our
+hand too soon."
+
+"I don't quite understand."
+
+"No; but I'll make all clear in a word or two. If we call in Percival,
+we shall not get much from him. It isn't likely he'll give himself away.
+He'll say that Plunger was mistaken; that it wasn't him, but somebody
+else who was talking to the fellow up at Bedes. What we've got to do is
+to meet craft with craft, and go one better than Percival at his own
+game."
+
+"Hear, hear!" cried Plunger. "But how are you going to do it? Strikes me
+you'll have to get up very early in the morning to score off Percival."
+
+"We sha'n't score if you keep that noisy tongue of yours wagging, Mr.
+Plunger. All you've got to do is to keep quiet till to-morrow evening,
+and then you can let it wag again as much as you please. My scheme is
+this: We've first got to make good your word about the flag. If we can
+get it from that shed in which you say it is, we can prove that you
+haven't been dreaming. With the flag in our possession, we'll call a
+meeting of the principal fellows from each Form down to the Third. You
+and Moncrief minor can tell the story. Percival can then say what he
+pleases. We can produce the flag to prove our case--and--there you are!
+Percival will be kicked out of Garside!"
+
+Stanley did not speak. The chasm between him and Percival had gone on
+widening instead of narrowing, but it was no pleasure to him to hear
+those words. Percival kicked from Garside! Then Garside would no longer
+be Garside to him. Harry, too, was silent. He did not know why, but he
+began to think they were not doing the right thing by Percival. They
+were trying to trap him, and the one setting that trap was the one who
+hated him.
+
+"A jolly good idea, Newall!" exclaimed Plunger enthusiastically.
+"Smart--real smart! But how are you going to work it? How are you going
+to get the flag?"
+
+"To-morrow's Wednesday; so we've got the whole of the afternoon before
+us. You're supposed to meet the Beetles at half-past three, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes; half-past three sharp."
+
+"Well, we'll be beforehand--half an hour, say. That will give us plenty
+of time to get possession of the flag, and away with it before your
+brethren of the Mystic Circle put in an appearance."
+
+"You--you won't want me?" asked Plunger anxiously. He had a keen
+recollection of what had happened at the shed the last time he was
+there.
+
+"Of course we shall. You'll have to take us to the shed and show us
+what's inside it."
+
+Plunger did not like this suggestion. Why couldn't Newall have selected
+Moncrief minor? But he could not very well raise any objection. So,
+making a virtue of necessity, he raised his eyebrows to their fullest
+extent, and said he should be "delighted."
+
+Then came the question as to who should go with Plunger. It was not
+advisable to take too many, for fear of the risk of discovery. So Newall
+decided that only three should accompany Plunger--Stanley, Parfitt, and
+himself. Stanley would gladly have given way to anybody else, but Newall
+insisted that he should be one of the party. He seemed determined to
+leave no stone unturned to blacken Paul in the eyes of his one-time
+friend.
+
+Stanley crept away as soon as he could to the solitude of his dormitory.
+
+He was very wretched. He felt as though he were acting a mean part. It
+might be true that Paul was not the friend to him that he had at one
+time been--that he had gone over to the Bedes, and acted a mean part;
+but that was no reason why he should act a mean part, too. Two blacks
+did not make a white. "Percival will be kicked out of Garside!" Newall's
+words kept repeating themselves in his brain. He could not forget them.
+Percival would be kicked out of Garside, and he would be one of those
+who had helped to kick him out.
+
+No, no; whatever wrong Paul had done him, he could not do that. But how
+could he prevent it? How could he put him on his guard? He thought for a
+long time; then he got a half-sheet of notepaper, and wrote on it in a
+disguised hand:
+
+"Beware! Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn you from Garside."
+
+The next difficulty to get over was--how to get that note to Paul
+without rousing suspicion. It must be read by him, and him alone. He was
+a long time before he could think of any means of accomplishing this
+purpose; then he remembered that Paul was in the habit of reading a few
+verses every night before going to rest from a Bible given to him by his
+mother. He went to Paul's dormitory--the dormitory in which he had once
+slept, and to which he had often longed to get back.
+
+Glancing cautiously in, he found that it was empty. He crept softly to
+Paul's locker, and drew out his Bible. There was a bookmark in it. He
+opened it at the bookmark. The first words that met his eyes were:
+
+"Judge not, and ye shall not ye judged; condemn not, and ye shall not be
+condemned; forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.... With the same measure
+that ye mete, withal it shall be measured to you again."
+
+Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven! The words seemed in a mist before
+Stanley's eyes. Pshaw! What had he to do with forgiveness?
+
+His eyes went again to the Bible:
+
+"With the same measure that ye mete, withal it shall be measured to you
+again."
+
+He read the words thrice, then placed the note inside the Bible and
+closed it.
+
+"He's sure to see it, I should think, and won't suspect who put it
+there," he told himself, as he stepped softly to the corridor.
+
+Scarcely had he reached it when he heard a footstep coming along it.
+
+Looking in the direction whence it came, he saw that it was he of whom
+he had been thinking--Paul Percival!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+THE MISSING FLAG
+
+
+Stanley did not wish to meet Paul. He might suspect his purpose in being
+there. There was no possibility of turning away, however, so he kept
+straight on, keeping as close to the wall as possible. Paul's head was
+bent to the ground. He seemed absorbed in thought, and passed by Stanley
+as though he had not seen him.
+
+"I don't think he saw me," Stanley told himself. "He looked a bit
+worried, and I don't wonder at it. He can't have a very pleasant time of
+it."
+
+For an instant Stanley felt inclined to turn back. "Forgive and ye shall
+be forgiven." Still the words he had just read were repeating
+themselves. Paul and he had not spoken for so long. A few words might
+clear up everything. Clear up everything? No. How was it possible to
+clear up that scene in the sand-pits? So Stanley's heart hardened again,
+and he went on.
+
+Meanwhile Paul entered the dormitory, and drew from his pocket a note he
+had just found awaiting him at the porter's lodge. He had read it twice
+before, but he could not help reading it again.
+
+"Meet me to-morrow (Wednesday), half-past two, at old elm, near
+sand-pits. Be sure and come. Very important."
+
+This note was scribbled in pencil, and unsigned, but Paul knew the
+writing well enough. It was Wyndham's. What was it Wyndham wanted with
+him? What was it that was so important? Had he gained any information as
+to the missing flag? He was thinking over this note when he passed by
+Stanley, and it was this which had given to him that "worried"
+appearance that Stanley had noticed in his face.
+
+He sat for some time musing over this letter, and then, to get away from
+it, drew from the locker his Bible. It opened, of course, at the place
+in which Stanley had placed his note. Paul unfolded and read it, with no
+small astonishment: "Beware! Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn
+you from Garside."
+
+Plot on foot to turn him from Garside! What could the plot be? This note
+was more puzzling than the other. Like that, too, it was unsigned; but
+this time Paul was beaten. The writing was unknown to him. He could not
+guess the writer, but he could see plainly enough that it was in a
+disguised hand.
+
+Then he suddenly realized that the two notes clashed. The one was an
+invitation to meet a Bede; the other warned him to steer clear of Bedes.
+If he obeyed the one, he would have to disregard the other. What was he
+to do? He did not hesitate long. Wyndham he knew. His friendship had
+been proved. He knew nothing of this anonymous writer--the writer who
+professed to warn him of a hidden danger, but did so in a disguised
+hand, and had not the courage to put to it his name. He would keep the
+appointment with Wyndham, whatever happened.
+
+So the next day, as soon as the clock had struck two, and he was free,
+Paul started off for the old elm, near the sand-pits. Punctual though he
+was, Wyndham was awaiting him.
+
+"I'm so glad you've come, Percival," he said, as he came towards him and
+shook him warmly by the hand. "I've splendid news to tell you."
+
+"The flag?" exclaimed Paul, speaking the thought that was uppermost in
+his mind.
+
+"You've made a very good guess. Yes, the flag. I've got some very good
+news about it--very good news indeed. In fact, I rather fancy I know
+where it is."
+
+"Where--where? Can we make for it?" exclaimed Paul, excited at the news.
+
+"Wait a bit. Don't be in such a steaming hurry!" smiled Wyndham. "Before
+I say a word more, I must ask you not to make use of the information I'm
+going to give you against any of our fellows at Bede's."
+
+Paul readily consented. To get possession of the flag was the chief
+thing he cared for. That accomplished, he could afford to be
+magnanimous.
+
+"From the first I suspected that one of our fellows had a hand in it,"
+went on Wyndham. "You remember that day when you were set upon by a
+dozen or so of the sweet cherubs from Bede's?"
+
+"Only too well."
+
+"Sorry to stir up painful memories. There was one amongst the number
+said to belong to the amphibia. Do you recollect that, too?"
+
+"Of course I do!" laughed Paul. "Mellor, you mean--once a Gargoyle, now
+a distinguished Beetle? Recollect it? Who could forget it? It labelled
+him to a T. You don't mean to say----"
+
+"Yes, I do," smiled Wyndham. "He and another Beetle, whose name I
+needn't mention, captured the flag between them. It was a plucky thing
+to do, and when I found out what had happened, I don't think I should
+have troubled any more about it, only I remembered that there was a
+fellow at Garside who was standing alone, fighting against the wall."
+
+"Wyndham!"
+
+"Don't interrupt. This fellow was rather anxious to get hold of the
+missing flag; and so, out of respect for him, and not for any of the
+mean cads who hail from the same place, I persuaded Mellor & Co. to hand
+it over. It was not easy work, I can tell you. They felt that I was
+robbing them of their rightful prey. But at last they came round,
+and----"
+
+"You got possession of the flag!" cried Paul. "How splendid of you,
+Wyndham! Instead of getting out of debt, I get deeper and deeper into
+it. But where is the flag?"
+
+"Can't you guess?" smiled Wyndham.
+
+"Guess?" repeated Paul, puzzled.
+
+"Yes. I've done my part; that's your part," answered Wyndham, enjoying
+his mystification. "S'posing we go for the old game--'Hot boiled beans
+and very good butter'? Hallo!" The smile died from his face as his
+glance went to the roadway. "Here are some of your lot! They haven't got
+wind of our meeting, have they?"
+
+Paul glanced in the direction of the roadway. Sure enough, there were
+four Garsiders coming along the road--Newall, Parfitt, Plunger, and
+Stanley. As his glance went to the road Parfitt caught sight of him;
+then all four stopped and glanced in the direction where Paul and
+Wyndham were standing. An animated conversation took place for a minute.
+It seemed as though they were undecided how to act. Then they came to a
+decision, and walked quickly on.
+
+"I'm not sorry they didn't come, though I should have been pleased
+enough to meet them at any other time," said Wyndham contemptuously.
+"Let's get on with our game. Now, then, are you ready? 'Hot boiled
+beans, very good butter; ladies and gentlemen, come to supper.' At
+present you're frightfully cold, freezing, perfect icicle."
+
+He rubbed his hands together, and flung them across his chest, and blew
+upon his fingers as though he were suffering from the same complaint;
+and then he laughed again at Paul's mystified expression as he gazed
+round. There was no sign of the flag. At length Paul's glance rested
+upon the decayed old elm-tree, near which they were standing.
+
+"You're getting warmer," smiled Wyndham. Then, as Paul walked towards
+the tree: "In fact, quite hot."
+
+Paul put his hand into the hollow of the tree, and drew out the missing
+flag, wrapped in a covering of American leather-cloth, just as it had
+been when Mellor and Crick had taken it to St. Bede's.
+
+"What can I say, Wyndham?" he asked, in a thick voice as he stood there,
+with the prize in his hand. For the moment there seemed to be a mist
+before his eyes.
+
+"Say? Nothing, of course! All you've got to do is to get back to Garside
+as soon as you can, for I shouldn't be surprised if those fellows we saw
+just now mean mischief."
+
+The anonymous letter flashed into Paul's mind as Wyndham spoke--"Beware!
+Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn you from Garside."
+
+Could it be that the four he had seen were concerned in that plot? It
+was quite possible to believe it of Newall and Parfitt--they had always
+been his enemies--but Stanley--No, he could not believe it of him.
+However, he scarcely cared what happened to him now he had gained
+possession of the flag. He would be able to redeem his promise. The main
+thing was to get it back to its old place on the turret.
+
+So he took Wyndham's advice, and started back to the college without
+further delay.
+
+Meanwhile the three who had started from Garside, under the guidance of
+Plunger, for the purpose of capturing the flag on their own account, had
+passed Wyndham and Paul, as we have seen, on the way. They little
+suspected the purpose of that meeting. They never imagined that it had
+anything to do with the flag.
+
+Parfitt, the first to catch sight of the two, gloated over the
+discovery. Stanley's heart fell. He now saw with his own eyes that Paul
+was really on friendly terms with Wyndham. He had taken no heed of his
+note of warning. He had treated it with scorn.
+
+"He's playing a deep game," said Parfitt. "I believe he means turning
+over Garside for Bede's, like Mellor did."
+
+"I believe so, too; but he can't do it before next term, and we must get
+our blow in before then. It all depends on getting hold of that flag.
+Now, then, Plunger, buck up!"
+
+Plunger increased his pace, and it was not long before he reached the
+shed in which he and Moncrief minor had been initiated into the "Noble
+Order of Beetles." They reached it, as arranged, fully half an hour
+before the time appointed for Plunger to meet "the mystic brethren." So,
+as they hoped and expected, they found it empty.
+
+"Now, Plunger, where do you say the flag is? Quick! We've got no time to
+lose!" said Newall.
+
+Plunger did not answer. He stood dumfounded. There was the place where
+he had been initiated into the "mystic brotherhood." There was the place
+where he had stood and looked up at the "mystic emblem," and had
+discovered to his amazement that it was the missing school flag. He
+rubbed his eyes then; he rubbed them now. The flag had gone! Gone! Had
+it ever been there? Was that scene, after all, as it had more than once
+seemed, only a dream?
+
+"Wake up, sleepy!" cried Newall, kicking him on the shins to rouse him.
+"Where's the flag?"
+
+"It was there, just over my head," answered Plunger, pointing to the
+roof above him; "but it isn't there now."
+
+They searched the shed, but could find no trace of the missing flag.
+There was a large box in which it might be hidden, but that was locked,
+and there was no time to force it.
+
+"You're not making fun of us, Plunger, are you?" demanded Newall,
+clutching him fiercely by the arm.
+
+"Really, I'm not."
+
+"Well, look here, you'll have to meet these fellows again, just as
+though you'd turned up in answer to their note, and see if you can worm
+out anything about the flag. If we're seen here it'll spoil the game.
+But we won't be far off. If you want any help, yell out, and we'll see
+what we can do for you. Do you understand?"
+
+Plunger understood perfectly, but, all the same, he did not like the
+prospect of meeting the brethren of the mystic order again. However,
+there was nothing for it but to give in, so he gave in with as good
+grace as possible.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+HOW THE FLAG FOUND ITS WAY BACK TO THE TURRET
+
+
+Paul got safely back to Garside with his prize. He mounted with it to
+his dormitory and undid the covering in which it was encased. Yes, there
+was the old flag, none the worse for its temporary absence from the
+school. Paul's heart beat the quicker. He was as proud of the flag as
+any boy at Garside, and as he looked at it he realized in some degree
+the feelings of a soldier when he has recaptured the colours from the
+enemy.
+
+Folding it up again, he hid it under one of the cubicles, and went in
+search of the boys who had been with him in the dormitory when the loss
+of the flag was first discovered.
+
+He was not long in finding Moncrief minor, who was wandering about the
+ground like a lost spirit. He was unhappy at the absence of his
+companion in mischief, the redoubtable Plunger. He began to think that
+he had been left out in the cold. What a hero Plunger would be if,
+through him, the flag were brought back again to the school!
+
+As he was thus thinking he saw Paul coming towards him. He quickly
+turned his head and walked off as though he had not seen him, but Paul
+came up with him in a stride or two, and, clutching him by the arm,
+twisted him round till he was in front of him.
+
+"You needn't run away, Harry. I want you to do me a favour."
+
+"What is it?" asked Harry, reluctantly.
+
+"You remember that afternoon when the flag was lost?"
+
+Harry looked up quickly. What was coming out about the flag now? Ha, ha,
+he guessed what it was! Percival had begun to smell a rat. He meant
+trying to pump him, so he answered cautiously.
+
+"Of course I do, and so do most of the fellows here, I'm thinking. I
+wonder if we shall ever get it back again?"
+
+"I wonder. It was Viner who brought us the news, I remember, and besides
+yourself there were several other fellows in the dormitory at the
+time--Baldry, Plunger, Sedgefield, Bember. I want you to get together
+again the same fellows if you can, and bring them to my dorm. Would you
+mind doing that for me?"
+
+"What for?" was the curious answer.
+
+"Oh, I'll explain what for when you're there. Will you do it?"
+
+Harry thought for a moment before answering. What was Percival's game?
+He was curious to know; but there couldn't be any harm in doing as he
+asked.
+
+"I can't bring Plunger--he's got something special in hand, but I'll
+hunt up some of the others, and bring them along with me, if I can."
+
+So he ran off, and Paul returned to the dormitory. Half an hour elapsed
+before he heard the welcome sound of footsteps on the stairs. Harry had
+succeeded in capturing three out of the five, Sedgefield, Baldry, Viner.
+They were just as curious as Harry was to know what Paul could want with
+them.
+
+"I'm much obliged to you for coming along," said Paul, "it's really very
+good of you, considering the dead-set against me. But I wanted to get
+together the fellows who were here when Viner brought up the bad news
+about the flag. I wish all six were here, but I must be satisfied with
+four out of them. At any rate, there's enough of you to remember what I
+said. I said, you'll remember, that through me the school had eaten
+dirt."
+
+"Oh, yes, we remember that well enough," said Viner bitterly, "because
+it was so true."
+
+"So true; yes, Viner. As your memory's so good on that point, perhaps
+you can remember what else was said?"
+
+"Of course I do. We all do, for one or two of us have laughed over it
+since. You talked some nonsense about the school suffering through you,
+and through you being lifted up again."
+
+"And that you meant getting the flag back again, and putting it in its
+old place on the turret," added Sedgefield.
+
+"You're right, Viner, and so are you, Sedgefield. I'm glad you remember
+things so well. I made that promise, uncertain whether or not I should
+be able to carry it out, but determined to do my best. Well, by God's
+help, I'm able to keep my word."
+
+To the profound amazement of the boys, he drew out the flag.
+
+"Where did you find it? Where did you get it from?" cried Viner.
+
+Harry did not speak. He could only stare at the flag. Was it really the
+old flag? There could be little doubt about that. How, then, had
+Percival come by it? Had he stolen a march upon Plunger and the others?
+
+"Where did I get it from? Well, that's my secret for the present. I've
+got the flag, and kept my promise. Now I want you to mount with me to
+the turret, so that we can put it back again in its old resting-place."
+
+He waved the flag over his head, and Baldry and Sedgefield gave a cheer.
+Harry echoed the cheer in a dazed, bewildered fashion. He had not yet
+recovered from his surprise. Viner remained silent. They followed Paul
+to the turret, where once again the flag was placed on the summit with
+another cheer.
+
+Meanwhile Plunger was inside the shed, awaiting with no small
+trepidation the arrival of the "Mystic Brethren." He had not long to
+wait before six of the masked brethren entered. The foremost of these
+was Mellor, followed by five of his companions. They had put on their
+masks outside the door, so that Plunger was just as much in the dark as
+to who they were as ever.
+
+"Gargoyle with the eyebrows, greeting!" exclaimed Mellor.
+
+"Greeting," repeated the other masks, bowing.
+
+"Now, then, greet," came a peremptory cry, as Plunger received the point
+of two or three knees in different parts of his body, which sent him
+staggering round the circle. It revived painful memories of a similar
+performance on his part on a previous occasion, and he hastily stammered
+out, "Gr-gr-greeting," and jerked his head in imitation of the
+brethren.
+
+"We are glad thou hast obeyed the call; but where is thy brother
+novice--Henry Moncrief?"
+
+"He--he's otherwise--engaged," stammered Plunger, not knowing what to
+say.
+
+"Otherwise engaged! Know this, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch, no
+engagement should keep him from answering the call of the Mystic
+Brethren. It shall be inquired into."
+
+As he spoke, Plunger saw, with fear and trembling, that one of the
+number had drawn from the box the weapons he so well remembered--the
+sticks with bladders attached to the ends. He guessed what was coming,
+and it came.
+
+"Describe the Mystic Circle!" cried Mellor.
+
+It was useless resisting. Down flopped Plunger on his knees and hands,
+and crawled round the ring as quickly as possible three times, while the
+bladders showered upon his head with amazing rapidity. Then the brethren
+joined hands, and galloping wildly round him, repeated as before:
+
+    "Beetles of the Mystic Band
+    Wind we round thee, hand in hand;
+    Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call,
+    Rest not, pause not, hither crawl,
+    Or to the realms of Creepy-crawly,
+    Shivery-shaky we will haul thee."
+
+And once again, to the strains of this extraordinary incantation,
+Plunger was sent whirling about the ring from side to side, as though he
+were an indiarubber ball. The last time two of them--Harry and
+himself--divided honours; but this time Plunger had it all to himself.
+Owing to this fact the brethren were able to give him their sole and
+undivided attention, and they did it with such effect that Plunger began
+to wonder whether he was himself or someone else.
+
+"Dost thou like the Mystic Circle?" inquired Mellor, when they paused.
+
+"Oh, y-y-yes," stammered Plunger, with a painful attempt to laugh, "very
+much." And then he added quickly, as he saw the uplifted bladders ready
+to descend: "But--but if you've got any more of it, you might keep it
+for my brother novice."
+
+"It shall be as thou askest, Gargoyle with the eyebrows," said Mellor.
+"And now to business."
+
+"To business? Do they call what I've just gone through pleasure?"
+thought Plunger, as he waited in fear and trembling what was to come
+next.
+
+"Thou belongest to the Third Form?"
+
+Plunger nodded.
+
+"A wonderful scholar art thou, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch," was the
+cutting comment.
+
+"Oh, I could be much higher in the school," exclaimed Plunger, blushing
+to the roots of the "wiry thatch"; "but I don't like the boys in the
+upper Forms, you know. They put too much side on for me."
+
+"You look a modest, retiring kind of fellow. That's the reason the
+Mystic Brethren have taken such a fancy to thee."
+
+Down came the bladders on Plunger's back as tokens of brotherly
+affection. Plunger felt flattered at this testimony of the brethren to
+his virtues, but he wished at the same time they had expressed it in
+some other way.
+
+"It's very kind of you," he gasped.
+
+"Though thou dost despise the bounders of the Upper Form, peradventure
+thou wouldst not mind taking a small present from the Mystic Brethren of
+the Fifth?"
+
+"A present?" repeated Plunger, pricking up his ears. "Not at all. Shall
+be delighted to make myself useful."
+
+"Let me see. The head boy of the Fifth is one named Hasluck, is he not,
+wearer of goggles?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is there not also in that same Form one named Leveson, famous
+timekeeper, owner of a stop-watch?"
+
+Plunger nodded, marvelling at the accuracy of the brethren's
+information. At a sign from Mellor, one of the masks, who was no other
+than Crick, left the circle, and brought from the corner of the shed a
+long parcel, wrapped in American leather-cloth--a facsimile, in fact, of
+the parcel which Paul had received from Wyndham a little earlier.
+
+"Give this to Hasluck, in the presence of the timekeeper Leveson and as
+many other menials of the Fifth as thou canst find. It is a souvenir
+from thy brethren to celebrate thy initiation to the Mystic Order. Dost
+thou understand?"
+
+Fluttering with excitement, Plunger clutched the parcel, and declared
+that he understood perfectly.
+
+He had not got far on the homeward road before he was rejoined by his
+companions, who had been lying in wait for him behind the friendly
+shelter of a hedge.
+
+"I've got it!" he gasped.
+
+"Got what?" demanded Newall.
+
+"The flag!" he cried, flourishing the precious parcel.
+
+"Bravo, Plunger!" exclaimed Newall.
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted Parfitt. "How did you get it?"
+
+"Presented to me in honour of my initiation to the Mystic Order."
+
+"Let's have a look at it."
+
+"It mustn't be opened till we get to the school. Hasluck's got to open
+it, in the presence of Leveson."
+
+As Plunger had faithfully followed out their instructions, they could
+not very well object to this condition, so they ran by his side,
+questioning him by the way as to what had happened to him in his
+absence. Plunger answered to the best of his ability, colouring
+considerably the part he had played in the ceremony, and the esteem in
+which he was held by the brethren.
+
+"Why--why, what's that?" exclaimed Stanley, coming to a dead stop. The
+others did the same. Their eyes followed his to the turret. There was
+the old flag flying from the top!
+
+Plunger turned pale; then a sickly hue went over his face as he looked
+from the flag to the parcel in his hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+FRIENDS IN COUNCIL
+
+
+Plunger's bewilderment was shared by his companions as they saw the old
+flag fluttering on the turret. What had happened? How on earth had it
+got there? Newall's hand went out to Plunger's ear.
+
+"Thought you said you'd got the flag, ass?"
+
+"Oh, oh, oh! Le' go my ear!" roared Plunger, as he gazed first on the
+turret, then on the mysterious parcel in his hand. He firmly believed
+that the Mystic Brethren had given the flag into his care, that it was
+inside the parcel when he had set out from the shed, but that by some
+magical influence it had managed to transfer itself from the parcel to
+the turret. Yet there was something still inside the parcel without a
+doubt. What was that something?
+
+"Yes, bounder!" exclaimed Parfitt, helping himself to the other ear.
+"Got the flag--that's what you told us! Presented to you in honour of
+your initiation! What's your game, blockhead?"
+
+"Oh, oh, oh! Le' go my ear! That flag up there must be a beastly fraud,
+or there must be two of 'em! Le' go my ear, will you!"
+
+Plunger began to think that the sympathetic attention he had received at
+the hands of the enemy was only to be equalled by the polite attention
+of his friends.
+
+"Didn't you say you'd got the flag in that parcel, Plunger?" asked
+Stanley, in a quieter tone, because he detested bullying himself, and
+did not like it practised on others.
+
+"Yes, I did, Moncrief!" persisted Plunger. "That's a twin up there, or
+an imitation, or something of the sort. Get Hasluck and Leveson, and
+I'll prove it to you."
+
+"We're not going to wait for Hasluck or Leveson! You've gammoned us
+enough! Give it up!"
+
+Newall snatched the parcel from Plunger's hand. It was carefully bound
+round with cord. Too impatient to untie it, Newall severed the cord with
+his knife. As he did so a small bundle of "swishers"--long sticks, such
+as were used by the boys of St. Bede's for "beating the bounds"--fell
+from the cloth. They were bound round in turn with a sheet of white
+paper, and on this paper was written in a bold hand:
+
+"Your dull ass will only go with beating. You've provided the ass. We've
+provided the swishers. We deliver both safely into your hands. Times to
+be called by the Gargoyle--Leveson--with the stop-watch."
+
+Disappointed though they were, the boys standing around Plunger burst
+into laughter. Plunger had been skilfully hoaxed. Under the impression
+that he was carrying the flag, he had delivered into their hands the
+formidable-looking swishers, with precise directions as to the method in
+which they were to be employed. Plunger's self-assurance for once gave
+way. Where was he standing? He scarcely knew. The ground was crumbling
+under his feet.
+
+"Well, Plunger, if you don't take the cake, and the bun, and the
+biscuit!" came the cutting voice of Newall. "My word, how the Beetles
+must be sniggering at you! The flag, didn't you say?"--holding up the
+swishers. "Oh, oh, it's too funny! Given in honour of your initiation to
+the Mystic Order! Oh, oh! Help yourself, Parfitt; help yourself,
+Moncrief!"
+
+He tossed them a swisher each, and selected one for himself, the quality
+of which he tested by flipping it in the air, much too near the
+crestfallen Plunger to be pleasant.
+
+"Thanks, Newall!" said Parfitt, putting the swisher he had received to a
+similar test on the other side of Plunger. "Wasn't to be opened till you
+got to the school, was it, Plunger, in the presence of Leveson--eh?"
+
+"Yes, in the presence of Leveson!" repeated Newall grimly. "Cut and find
+him, Plunger, and tell him to be sure and bring his stop-watch."
+
+Down came the swishers--twice, thrice. Plunger did not require any
+second bidding. He did "cut." His speed would have astonished himself
+had he had time to think about it, but he hadn't. His one great desire
+was to put as great a distance as possible between himself and Newall
+and Parfitt. Moncrief major had been more considerate of his feelings,
+and had not made use of his swisher.
+
+"Where can I hide myself," panted Plunger--"where?"
+
+He was not only sore and wounded in spirit, but in body as well.
+
+And here perhaps it is necessary to add a brief word of explanation as
+to how it was Plunger came in possession of the extraordinary parcel
+which had drawn upon him so much ridicule. When, with much reluctance,
+Mellor and his friends had given up the flag to Wyndham, they decided,
+by way of compensation, to prepare a parcel that closely resembled it.
+If the flag had been taken from them, they did not wish to be defrauded
+of their due share of sport at the hands of the enemy. So the note had
+been sent from the "Mystic Brethren," which, by a roundabout method, had
+drawn Plunger to the shed. What followed has been seen.
+
+To return to the scene outside Garside. So soon as Newall and Parfitt
+had ceased chasing Plunger they turned to Stanley.
+
+"You don't seem to be enjoying the fun, Moncrief?" said Parfitt.
+
+"No; can't quite see where the fun lies," answered Stanley gravely.
+"Seems to me that Plunger's not the only ass that wants beating. We
+might use those sticks very well on ourselves. We've been just as much
+sold as he has. We've been on a fool's errand. We were going to bring
+the flag back, and the flag's come back without us."
+
+"Yes; the flag's come back, sure enough," answered Newall. "And how the
+dickens did it come back?--that's the puzzle. Hallo! There's your young
+cousin. He ought to know something about it. Moncrief--Moncrief minor!"
+he shouted.
+
+Harry, who was crossing the grounds at the time, turned in answer to the
+shouts and came towards the three boys.
+
+"Got the flag?" he asked innocently.
+
+"No cheek, kid, else we'll trounce you like we've just trounced your
+friend Plunger!" retorted Newall sharply.
+
+"Who brought the flag back? How did it get there?"--glancing to the
+turret.
+
+"Oh, it got there by a friend of yours--Paul Percival," answered Harry,
+hitting back. "He's beaten you, just like you've beaten my friend
+Plunger."
+
+Newall scowled, and would have treated him to a taste of the swisher,
+only he recollected that he was Stanley's cousin.
+
+"Be serious, Harry," said Stanley. "Percival, did you say? Do you really
+mean that the flag was brought back by him?"
+
+"I am serious, Stan--never more so in my life. The flag was brought back
+by Percival, and put in its old place on the turret by Percival."
+
+He then told them precisely what had happened. The three boys listened
+in silence. Percival had stolen a march upon them, that was quite clear.
+Stanley wondered whether his note of warning had put him on his guard.
+The thought that it had been of some service might have pleased Stanley,
+but the memory of Percival talking to Wyndham hardened his heart against
+him once more. He smothered the old feeling of friendship that would
+keep trying to assert itself, in spite of himself.
+
+"I told you that we should have to meet craft with craft!" cried Newall,
+breaking the silence. "But so far Percival has beaten us. Plunger's an
+ass, but he was quite right for once when he said that we'd have to get
+up very early in the morning to score off Percival. What's our next
+move?"
+
+As neither Moncrief major nor Parfitt responded, Newall went on:
+
+"We saw Percival talking to a particular friend of yours, Moncrief."
+Stanley winced at the cold, cutting words. "That was a couple of hours
+ago. At that time the flag was not on the turret. We can all answer as
+to that, I think?"
+
+Stanley and Parfitt nodded assent.
+
+"What happens? In the interval Percival returns to Garside with the
+flag. Where did the flag come from? I think the answer's simple
+enough--it must have come into Percival's possession by the help of your
+particular friend, the Beetle who was so kind to you at the sand-pits,
+Moncrief."
+
+Every word had its venom, and distilled its poison in the breast of
+Stanley.
+
+"Well, well, what of it?" he demanded hoarsely.
+
+"What of it?" repeated Newall, raising his eyebrows and regarding him
+with feigned astonishment. "It's all clear enough, I should think. The
+whole business is an artfully-concocted plot between Percival and
+Wyndham. The flag disappears. How it disappears is a mystery. No one
+knows--least of all Percival. But he makes use of some high-sounding
+words in the presence of a few of the fellows--flag gone, by Heaven's
+help he'll bring it back again! The fellows cheer him to the echo. A
+short time elapses, during which the mystery deepens; then Percival
+turns up with the flag. He has kept his word. More cheers. Oh, yes, it's
+all clear--clear as day! Don't you think so, Moncrief?"
+
+"One moment," answered Stanley, passing his hand over his forehead. "I'm
+a bit dazed somehow. Let me understand. You believe that--that----"
+
+"That the hand which brought back the flag is the same hand that took it
+away."
+
+"Of course!" assented Parfitt. "As you say, Newall, it's as clear as
+day. Nothing could be clearer."
+
+"Nothing could be clearer," echoed Stanley, as his head fell to his
+breast.
+
+Harry was silent. Like his cousin, there had always been deep down in
+his heart a real affection and sympathy for Paul. He had always hoped
+that he would be able to reinstate himself in the good opinion of the
+school; so it was he had cheered with the rest when Paul returned with
+the flag. It was all very mysterious, it was true; but Harry had shut
+his eyes on the mystery. The flag had come back to the school. Paul had
+brought it. He had made good his word. That was enough. He would be
+again the Paul he had once known--the Paul Stanley had known and loved.
+
+"What's to be done?" demanded Stanley.
+
+"Well, we can't do anything to-day. Let's wait developments to-morrow.
+Mr. Weevil's bound to take some sort of action."
+
+"Oh, there you go again!" cried Stanley impatiently. "Putting things on.
+Yesterday it was the same."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"I wanted to make straight for Percival. 'No,' said you; 'don't be in a
+hurry. We mustn't show our hands too soon.' And so on, and so on. Oh,
+I'm sick of it all--sick of everything--sick of waiting!"
+
+Harry looked up at his cousin. There was a note of passionate revolt in
+his voice, a fierce light in his eyes; both hands were clenched, and he
+seemed to sway to and fro, as though no longer master of himself.
+
+"For that matter, so am I," said Newall softly. "Perhaps I was wrong,
+Moncrief, in putting things off. I dare say I was. You gave in to me
+yesterday, I give in to you to-day; that's only fair. What do you want,
+old fellow?"
+
+Newall placed a hand quite lovingly on Stanley's shoulder.
+
+"Want? No more of this wretched waiting game! Let's go to Percival
+straight--straight! Do you hear?" came hoarsely from Stanley's lips.
+
+"Yes, I hear; and I am with you."
+
+And Newall exchanged a swift smile of triumph with Parfitt.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+UNEXPECTED TIDINGS
+
+
+As soon as Paul had accomplished his purpose, and seen the flag waving
+in its old place on the turret, he went to the room of Mr. Weevil. He
+knew well enough that inquiries would be made respecting the return of
+the flag, and therefore he took the straightforward course of going at
+once to headquarters.
+
+"Come in!" came the voice of the master in response to the knock on his
+door.
+
+He was pacing to and fro the room--the same room in which Paul had seen
+him on that never-to-be-forgotten night with Zuker. He stopped as Paul
+entered, and regarded him in his usual manner--through half-closed eyes.
+
+"You, Percival! What is it you want with me?" came the sharp answer.
+
+"I only came to tell you that the flag is back in its old place, sir."
+
+"I know--I know! And you brought it back, I understand? I meant
+inquiring into the matter. I'm glad you've forestalled me. You want to
+explain--eh? That's what you've come for--eh?"
+
+"That's what I've come for, sir," answered Paul, astonished that he
+should have gained such speedy information as to what had happened.
+Sometimes, indeed, it seemed as though those half-closed eyes not only
+saw further than other eyes, but that they had the faculty of double
+sight as well.
+
+"And yet I don't know whether I can call it an explanation, for there
+are things which cannot be explained."
+
+"Not explained? How do you mean, sir?" came the sharp answer.
+
+"I received the flag back from a friend of mine--a proved friend--on the
+solemn promise that I would not make use of the information he had given
+me to get any of the fellows who had taken it into a scrape."
+
+"Why did you make that promise?"
+
+"Because it was the only way of getting the flag back."
+
+"And that is all the information you can give me?"
+
+"That is all, sir."
+
+"And you call it an explanation? Really, sir, it is one of the most
+extraordinary I have ever heard! And you expect me to accept it?"
+demanded the master, facing Paul, and looking him fully in the eyes.
+
+"I trust so, sir, because I can give no other--have no other to give."
+
+Mr. Weevil did not at once answer, but took two or three more turns
+across the room.
+
+"I believe you to be a lad of honour, Percival," he said, stopping once
+more, "and a lad of sense. Let me put it to you, then, as a lad of
+honour and of sense. Supposing I am perfectly ready to accept your
+statement, do you really believe that the school will be as ready to
+accept it?"
+
+"The school might be curious to know more, sir, but if you accept my
+explanation as sufficient, I don't see why anybody should question it."
+
+"Yes, yes; that might be well enough. But there have been one or two
+rather mysterious things that have happened within the last month or two
+which have never been cleared up. There was the breaking open of my
+desk, for instance, and the torn pages in the Black Book."
+
+"I could mention a still greater mystery that wants clearing up,"
+thought Paul, as his mind went back to the afternoon when he had seen
+the master enter the strange hiding-place of Zuker.
+
+"The culprit in that case has never been found out. It still remains a
+mystery," continued Mr. Weevil. "Then came the mysterious disappearance
+of the flag, and its equally mysterious return. The school will be
+getting suspicious--uneasy. If no better explanation is forthcoming
+than that you have given me, suspicion will grow--I am certain of it."
+
+Paul saw that the master was right. Still, he had no intention of giving
+up his secret.
+
+"I have given my word, sir," he answered firmly. "You would not have me
+break it?"
+
+"You said that you have received the flag from a friend, if my memory
+serves me--a proved friend?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"May I ask in what way his friendship has been proved?"
+
+How could Paul answer him? How could he tell the man before him in what
+way Wyndham had proved his friendship to him? Suddenly, it flashed into
+Paul's mind that the bold course was the best.
+
+"When I was home last vacation, sir, a gentleman had an accident with
+his horse. He asked me to take a packet for him to Mr. Moncrief, the
+father of Moncrief minor. I took the packet. On the way I was set on by
+two ruffians. I got away from them, but they followed me, and would have
+got the packet from me had it not been for the friend I speak of."
+
+Mr. Weevil's eyes began closing as Paul was speaking. When he finished
+they opened again.
+
+"What did this friend do?"
+
+"Hid me till the ruffians had gone."
+
+"Good! And that enabled you to get the packet to Mr. Moncrief?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Excellent! But, do you know, Percival, this really seems a stranger
+story than the other."
+
+"Perhaps so, sir; but I can prove every word of it, if you like. By your
+permission, I will send for Mr. Moncrief----"
+
+"No, no; that is altogether unnecessary!" said the master quickly.
+"Strange though the story is, I accept every word of it--every word. The
+friend you speak of was indeed a friend in need. You must keep your word
+to him--it would be an act of baseness to break it. I did not know the
+facts, you see. You may leave the rest to me."
+
+Paul's heart bounded joyfully. The bold course had been the right one.
+It had succeeded where a weaker course might have utterly failed.
+
+"Thank you, sir. It is very kind of you."
+
+Paul was about to withdraw, when the master called him back.
+
+"Let me see, there was a letter came for you while you were out. There
+it is in the rack."
+
+Paul took the letter from the rack as Mr. Weevil turned to his books.
+Again his heart gave a great bound. One glance at it told him who it was
+from. It was the letter he had been so anxiously awaiting from Mr.
+Walter Moncrief.
+
+"It _is_ for you, isn't it?" Mr. Weevil asked, glancing into the boy's
+eager face.
+
+"Yes, sir," answered Paul, wondering whether the master suspected who it
+was from or had any knowledge of its contents. He inspected the envelope
+as he hastened to his dormitory. No; it did not seem to have been
+tampered with. Mr. Weevil could not have seen its contents. On reaching
+his room, he tore open the envelope, and read:
+
+     "My dear Paul,--I received your first letter, but was away from
+     home at the time, so was unable to answer it. Pardon my delay. You
+     need not worry about the man Zuker. I am kept informed as to his
+     movements.
+
+     "With regard to your master Mr. Weevil, I quite agree with you--I
+     cannot think that he has anything to do with a traitor to his
+     country, though appearances may be against him. At any rate, till
+     anything is distinctly proved, give him the respect due to a
+     scholar and a gentleman.
+
+     "To turn to other and more agreeable matters. I trust that Harry is
+     getting on well. He seems too busy to write much. And when he does
+     write, it's nothing but 'Plunger, Plunger, Plunger,' from start to
+     finish. You would fancy there was nobody else but Plunger in
+     existence. Tell him that when he can get away from Plunger we shall
+     be very glad to hear from him again.
+
+     "I know the great friendship there is between you and my nephew
+     Stanley. I only hope that Harry will find as good and worthy a
+     friend. Tell Stanley that he has to come here during next vacation,
+     and bring you with him. I think we shall be able to provide you
+     with plenty of amusement, though I can't promise you it will be of
+     so exciting a kind as you had last vacation.--Your sincere friend,
+
+     "WALTER MONCRIEF."
+
+A great feeling of relief came over Paul when he read the first part of
+this letter. There was nothing to worry about Zuker. Mr. Moncrief was
+kept informed of his movements; and yet, and yet----If Mr. Moncrief knew
+of his movements, why, in the name of wonder, did he not arrest him? But
+perhaps there were reasons against it. In any case, the answer was
+satisfactory, and he felt relieved.
+
+It was with far different feelings he read the last part of the letter.
+
+"I know the great friendship existing between you and Stanley," Paul
+read again, with sorrow. "I only hope that Harry will find as good a
+friend."
+
+And the message? What was he to do with the message Mr. Moncrief had
+asked him to deliver to Stanley? He turned the letter over and over in
+his hand. He must deliver it to him somehow.
+
+"Stanley must answer it; not I. I will give it to his cousin."
+
+As he passed along the corridor a deep groan came from one of the
+dormitories. It sounded like some one in pain. He stopped and listened.
+A few seconds more, and the groaning was repeated. He opened the door
+softly and looked in. The dormitory was to all appearances empty.
+
+"Strange! My ears must have deceived me," thought Paul.
+
+He was on the point of retreating when the sound came again to his ears.
+
+"No; I wasn't mistaken," he said, stepping softly into the room and
+closing the door after him. "It was somebody, but who?"
+
+He looked round, puzzled. There was no one visible. He stood perfectly
+still and waited. A few seconds more, and the groaning was repeated. But
+this time he detected whence it came. It came from under one of the
+cubicles. He crossed to it and looked underneath. A boy was huddled up
+on the floor. One glance was sufficient to tell him who it was--it was
+Master Plunger.
+
+"Here. Plunger, come out of that!"
+
+Plunger did not attempt to move.
+
+"Come out of that, I tell you!"
+
+As Plunger still refused to move, Paul took him by the leg and hauled
+him out.
+
+Such a woebegone Plunger it was! His wiry thatch was more dishevelled
+than usual. The eyebrows seemed to have made a more desperate attempt
+than ever to invade the territory of the forehead. The self-assurance
+which had been the distinguishing mark of Plunger's manner had gone.
+
+"Le' me go--le' me go!" he groaned. "I want to die!"
+
+"Die!" Paul could scarcely refrain from laughing. "There's not much of
+that about you! You're not one of those whom 'the gods love,' so you'll
+never die young, Plunger. What have you been up to? I believe you've
+been smoking."
+
+This accusation brought Plunger to a sitting posture on the bed.
+
+"I haven't been smoking--I haven't been smoking! It's the flag!"
+
+"What about the flag?"
+
+"I angled for it, and thought I'd hooked it; but I hadn't. Some other
+fellow had; so instead of hooking the flag I got a beastly swishing.
+That's not all. I shall get roasted all round, and, of course, the Two
+J.'s will be poking fun at me in the 'Gargoyle Record.' I'd like to know
+who the fellow was who got the flag. Have you heard?"
+
+"I have heard, but I haven't time to go into it just now. Your friend
+Moncrief minor can tell you all about it. Cheer up, Plunger, and don't
+talk any more about dying."
+
+Paul hurried off, leaving Plunger to digest the scanty information he
+had given him as best he could.
+
+"Now for Stan!" he said, as he made his way to the common room, but
+little dreaming what was there in store for him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+THE STORM BREAKS
+
+
+As Paul approached the common-room, the sound of voices came through the
+open door, and clear above the hubbub rose the voice of some one making
+free use of his name. He knew the voice well enough. It was Stanley's.
+Why were they discussing him?
+
+On entering the room, the voices ceased as by magic. Every eye was
+turned in his direction. Several boys were gathered round the fireplace.
+Foremost in the group were Newall, Parfitt, and Stanley.
+
+"I thought I heard my name?" Paul exclaimed, as he stepped into the
+room.
+
+"Quite right," said Stanley, coming from the group and confronting him.
+"I've been looking for you."
+
+Paul was on the point of saying that he also had been looking for
+Stanley, but the silence that followed Stanley's words, the concentrated
+gaze of that group of boys, and, above all, the face of Stanley
+himself--white, yet with a burning, feverish light in the eyes--kept
+back the words.
+
+"Looking for me?" he repeated.
+
+"Yes; I did hope that I should never have to speak to you again, but one
+or two things that have just happened make me. All the fellows here know
+how much it's against the grain."
+
+Paul's face fell. He had come in search of Stanley with the hope of
+bringing about a reconciliation. That hope receded in an instant to the
+far distance.
+
+"If it's against the grain, I wonder you should trouble," he could not
+help answering.
+
+"Oh, we have to swallow things we don't like sometimes." Then he broke
+off into a tone of banter. "So you've brought the flag back to Garside?"
+
+Paul did not answer. He was only conscious that the group had drawn
+closer to him, and that Stanley's eyes were burning at a fiercer heat.
+It seemed some other than Stanley who was speaking. He had assumed the
+tone and manner of Newall; but he was forcing himself into a part which
+did not suit him, so that he acted it badly.
+
+"The worst of Percival is that he's so modest. He doesn't know what a
+smart thing he's done," went on Stanley. "It isn't to be wondered at
+that the kids of the Third and Fourth have been cheering him like mad.
+Why should we be left out in the cold, eh?"
+
+"Why?" echoed Parfitt. "Let's give him a rouser."
+
+Parfitt led off the cheers--cheers which fell with a hollow sound on
+Paul's ears, for he knew well enough they were only mocking him.
+
+"When we hear about a smart thing, we're naturally anxious to know how
+it was done," jeered Parfitt.
+
+"Naturally," echoed Newall, followed by cries of assent from the rest.
+
+"Order! Order for Percival!" exclaimed Stanley, holding up his hand for
+silence.
+
+Silence instantly reigned. You might have heard a pin drop as they
+waited for Paul to speak; but they waited in vain. He neither spoke nor
+moved. He was not thinking of himself, nor of the boys that stood around
+him. He had ears and eyes for Stanley, and no other. It was a
+transformed Stanley--not the Stanley he had once known.
+
+"Lost your tongue?" cried Stanley, breaking the silence. "Come, out with
+it. We can't wait here all day! How did you manage to get hold of the
+flag? Who had it, and how did you get it back to Garside? Don't be so
+awfully modest? You've hidden your light under a bushel too long."
+
+"The flag is back at Garside," answered Paul firmly, ignoring the taunt.
+"For the rest you had better ask Mr. Weevil. I don't owe any explanation
+to you or any other fellow in the Form!"
+
+He turned away, but Stanley sprang between him and the door.
+
+"That won't do? You do owe us an explanation, and I mean having it!"
+
+"You?"
+
+There was more of sorrow than anger in Paul's voice, but to the
+sensitive ears of Stanley, strung to the highest tension, it sounded
+strangely like contempt.
+
+"I! What were you doing with the Beetle we saw you with near the
+sand-pits this afternoon?"
+
+"The Beetle you ran away from, you know," added Newall. "The Beetle you
+left Moncrief to fight for you!"
+
+This wholly unnecessary piece of information sent the scarlet back for a
+moment into the white face of Stanley. His hands opened spasmodically;
+then closed in a firmer grip than before.
+
+The gibe acted differently on Paul. He recalled that Stanley had really
+suffered for him; he recalled too, the note of warning that had been
+left for him in his dormitory. Perhaps, after all, it had been written
+by Stanley? The Stanley he had once known as a friend. And there came
+over him the old longing to clasp him by the hand.
+
+"I will try to explain to you if you will meet me somewhere alone," he
+said, drawing near to Stanley, and speaking in a little more than a
+whisper.
+
+"Speak out! I want no secrets!" cried Stanley.
+
+"All the fellows in the Form have as much right to hear as I have! What
+I can hear they can hear! I don't want to go about sneaking and
+whispering in corners!"
+
+Murmurs of applause greeted this expression of opinion.
+
+"If that's the way you look at it," answered Paul sorrowfully, "the
+thing's ended. I've nothing more to say."
+
+"But I have, and you must hear--must!" repeated Stanley, with emphasis,
+as Paul tried to pass him. "It's your honour I'm thinking of, as much as
+the honour of the school. Do you know what they are saying?"
+
+"I don't know or care," came the swift answer. "As for my honour, it can
+very well take care of itself."
+
+"Like it did at the sand-pits," put in Parfitt, amid an outburst of
+laughter.
+
+Paul bit his lip to keep back the angry words that sprang to his tongue.
+And the gibe went again as a poisoned shaft to the wound that was lying
+as a canker in the breast of Stanley.
+
+"Well, we'll leave your honour out of it, if you don't care to stick up
+for it. But there's the honour of the school, and do you know what
+they're saying? They're saying that the flag business was all a
+dodge--that it's been engineered between you and the Beetle you would
+not stand up to in the sand-pits!"
+
+"Engineered! How do you mean?" demanded Paul, staggered by this fresh
+accusation.
+
+"That it was all arranged between you and the Beetle."
+
+"I--I can't quite see. I don't understand. Do you mean----"
+
+"Let him have it straight; so that he can't wriggle out of it!"
+exclaimed Newall, as Paul paused, unable to get out the words that came
+as a torrent to the lips.
+
+"I mean that the theft of the flag was arranged between you and that
+fellow at St. Bede's; and that it's come back again by the same clever
+piece of trickery."
+
+"Is that what they're saying?" demanded Paul.
+
+"That's what they're saying."
+
+"And--and--what do you say, Stan?" The name came out in a gulp.
+
+Had Stanley only followed his better impulse, he would have answered:
+
+"I don't believe it. Though appearances are against you, I cannot
+believe it. I still have faith in you, as I used to have. We have
+wandered apart, but Garside has never been what it was since we ceased
+to speak. I have been unhappy--miserable."
+
+But the gibes of Newall and Parfitt were still rankling in his breast.
+He seemed to feel again the blows of Wyndham on his face. So instead of
+answering as his better nature dictated, he replied:
+
+"I stand by the Form. I say the same."
+
+"Then it's a lie--a dirty lie. Let me pass."
+
+Paul was choking. It would not so much have mattered what his Form said.
+He could trust to time to bring them round again; but that Stanley could
+have believed him guilty of such mean, despicable trickery--there was
+the sting. Stanley had felt the blows of Wyndham on his face, but that
+was as nothing to the torture endured at that moment by Paul. It was as
+a flail cutting deep down into his very flesh.
+
+Stanley still barred the way to the door, and did not move.
+
+"Let me pass!" came again the hoarse, choking cry.
+
+Stanley did not budge. Neither did he answer. He was as dumb, as
+immovable, and as white as a block of marble. Paul could endure it no
+longer. He caught him by the arm to turn him aside. His touch started
+the statue before him into life. As though it were an insult to be wiped
+out, Stanley struck out blindly with his fist. Paul received the blow
+full on the face, and fell to the ground like a log.
+
+It was a cruel blow. Stanley knew it the moment he had struck his
+one-time friend, and he would have given all he possessed to have
+recalled it. But it was too late.
+
+"Well hit!" applauded Parfitt, as though Stanley had just made a
+brilliant drive in the cricket-field instead of striking his best
+friend.
+
+"First knockdown and blood to Moncrief!" exclaimed Newall. "Oh, he's all
+right, Waterman. He doesn't want any help from you."
+
+Waterman, who had been standing in the background, leaning in his usual
+indolent manner against the most comfortable corner of the fireplace,
+shook on his lethargy as Stanley struck the blow which felled Paul to
+the ground, and at once left his favourite spot by the fireplace and
+went to his assistance.
+
+"Hurt, Percival?" he asked as, heedless of Newall's remarks, he wiped
+away the blood that was trickling down Paul's cheek.
+
+Paul had been momentarily dazed by the unexpected blow; but he was
+strong, and soon shook the feeling off.
+
+"Thanks, Waterman. No; I'm not hurt," he whispered, rising slowly to his
+feet.
+
+The boys gathered round. The excitement had grown from the moment Paul
+had entered the room. From that instant the storm-clouds had begun to
+gather, and with the blow struck by Moncrief major they had burst.
+
+What would happen?
+
+"Steady yourself, Percival," whispered Waterman. "So--Are you sure you
+are all right?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+Waterman let go his arm. The blood still trickled down Paul's face, but
+he walked steadily up to Stanley, who had thrown up his arms in defence,
+as though expecting a return of the blow.
+
+"You can put down your hands, Stanley. I'm not going to fight you," said
+Paul calmly.
+
+"He's moulting again--more feathers!" cried Newall.
+
+"And aren't they white ones?" added Parfitt.
+
+"I'm not going to fight you," repeated Paul, looking Stanley squarely in
+the face; "but I'll pay you back again--some day."
+
+Stanley did not attempt to stop him this time; so Paul made his way back
+to his room, and sank upon his bed thinking. He had done nothing of
+which he was ashamed, but the blow of Stanley was burning on his cheek,
+and he felt wretched, miserable. He had striven for the best, but
+somehow things had turned out for the worst. Once before when things
+were at their blackest, there was one who had come to him, and placed a
+little hand in his; but now there was no one, save the good God above.
+
+He was thinking thus, when there was a tap on the door; the door was
+jerked open with a shoulder; and Waterman, with his hands thrust deep
+into his pockets, strode indolently in--just for all the world as though
+he were coming to a picnic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+IN THE GARDEN
+
+
+"It's tiring work getting up stairs, especially these stairs--ugh!" said
+Waterman, as he entered. "If you don't mind, I'll take a seat."
+
+And without waiting for Paul to answer, Waterman dropped down, with his
+hands still in his pockets, beside him on the bed.
+
+"It was very good of you to give me a helping hand just now, Waterman."
+
+"Oh, humbug! I've got a wretched sort of memory. Fact is, it's too great
+a fag trying to recollect half the things crammed into you at school,
+but I seem to have a better memory than most fellows for some things.
+And there's one thing I can't forget--I can't forget you coming across
+the ground with that little chap, so like a drowned rat, in your arms. I
+shall have to be blind, deaf, and silly before I forget it."
+
+Waterman spoke in his usual drawling tone, but its underlying note of
+earnestness was quite unusual. Strange that Paul, too, had just been
+thinking of Hibbert, but in a scene far different from that to which
+Waterman had referred. God had been very good to him after all. He had
+been thinking how utterly lonely he was, and yet a friend--true, a
+somewhat indolent one--had come to him in his hour of adversity.
+
+"And look here, Percival," went on Waterman, "there's something else I
+remember. I don't know why, you know, but I do."
+
+"What's that? Seems to me your memory's improving," said Paul.
+
+"Oh, my memory's fairly good when it's not grubbing about amongst Latin
+roots, or making a fellow bald-headed worrying over problems invented by
+a fiend calling himself Euclid ever so many years ago. Why the
+undertakers couldn't have buried them along with old Euclid, or stowed
+them away with his mummy, is one of those things I could never
+understand. Then if people wanted to dig them up again, they'd have been
+in their right place--in the mummy department of the British Museum.
+Where was I? Oh, on memory. Yes, there's one thing I remember, in spite
+of the Latin roots and weary old Euclid. I recollect what you told me on
+that day when you surprised every one by turning tail at the sand-pits.
+I've kept it to myself all this time. Is it necessary to keep it a
+secret any longer?"
+
+"Yes, Waterman," answered Paul firmly.
+
+"Why? Let me set you right with the Form? It'll be an awful fag, I know.
+Still, the vac's coming on, and one can have a good long rest after
+one's pulled through."
+
+"No, Waterman," said Paul, shaking his head; "I'm not going to curry
+favour that way. You've been a friend to me--a friend where I least
+expected to find one. Bear with me a little longer."
+
+"But you don't understand the dust that Newall, Parfitt & Co. are
+kicking up? Can't you see that they've got Moncrief major completely
+under their thumb? They'll make Garside too hot to hold you."
+
+"We'll see. I'm not beaten yet."
+
+"Better let me speak," persisted Waterman.
+
+Paul shook his head.
+
+"I give you up. You are worse than old Euclid!" exclaimed Waterman,
+plunging his hands deeper into his pockets.
+
+With a yawn he strolled towards the door, edged his shoulder round it
+until he had opened it wide enough for his body to pass through, closed
+it by a like man[oe]uvre, and with the same measured step went on his
+way.
+
+"After all, I've got one friend at Garside," thought Paul, with a smile,
+"though he does like to take his time over things."
+
+He looked in the glass. His cheek was swollen and bruised. His
+appearance was very much what Stanley's had been when he had returned
+from the sand-pits after his encounter with Wyndham.
+
+"I hope Stanley is satisfied," he said, smiling grimly at himself in the
+glass.
+
+Then he remembered that he hadn't carried out the purpose for which he
+had gone to the common room. He had gone there for the purpose of
+speaking to him about Mr. Moncrief's letter. It was useless to think of
+doing so now. He would put the letter in his desk till a more convenient
+season. His hand went to his pocket. The letter had gone!
+
+The old feeling came over him that had come over him on the day when he
+had lost that other letter on his way to Redmead. It had disappeared
+from his pocket just as mysteriously. He looked around. There was no
+trace of it in the room. Then he remembered that he had pulled out his
+handkerchief in the common room to staunch the blood from his cheek. He
+must have pulled out the letter with it.
+
+It would not have mattered much had it been an ordinary letter. But it
+was not an ordinary one. Far from it. It contained references to Zuker
+and Mr. Weevil which might cause no end of mischief were it to get into
+the wrong hands.
+
+He did not like the idea of returning to the common room; it was like
+swallowing a nauseous draught of medicine. Probably the boys were still
+there, laughing over his discomfiture. Yet, nauseous though the draught
+was, it had to be swallowed, and it was best to swallow it quickly.
+
+So he again descended to the common room. He faintly hoped that it might
+be deserted, but that hope vanished as he reached the room. This time he
+heard the voice of Newall. He paused for a moment; then went boldly
+forward.
+
+Stanley had gone--he saw that at a glance; so had most of the others;
+but Newall, Parfitt, and two or three more had remained, and were
+evidently discussing recent events.
+
+They could not have been more startled had a ghost entered, instead of
+a being of flesh and blood. Paul searched round the room in the hope of
+finding some trace of the missing letter, but found none.
+
+"Dotty!" came the voice of one of the boys, who had by this time
+recovered from their surprise at the unexpected return of Paul.
+
+"Looking for the courage that oozed out at his heels," sneered Parfitt.
+
+"I've lost a letter," said Paul, on whom these facetious remarks were
+quite lost. "You don't happen to have seen it?"
+
+No one answered him. They stared blankly at him. They did not mind
+speaking at him. Speaking to him was quite a different thing.
+
+It was perfectly useless to expect an answer from them; so Paul went
+out, feeling far from comfortable. He could only hope that no bad use
+would be made of the letter, supposing it had fallen into their hands.
+
+_The Gargoyle Record_ came out next day. Among other items of
+information were the following:
+
+"Old flag back to tower. Brought back by 'two P's' of the Fifth. Great
+enthusiasm--little waddlers of the Third cheering like lunatics; big
+cacklers of the Fifth hissing like geese. Mystery in three volumes. Vol.
+I.--How the flag disappeared from Garside. Vol. II.--Where it went to.
+Vol. III.--How 'two P's' got it back again. Snorters of the Fifth
+getting excited. A commission of inquiry into the conduct of 'two P's.'
+
+"Rumours of a scrum in common room. 'Two P's' again distinguishes
+himself. Still living up to his old motto:
+
+    "He who fights and runs away
+    Will live to fight another day."
+
+"What has become of that promising junior whose name rhymes with hunger?
+Nothing has been seen or heard of him for the last day or two. What has
+come over him? His native modesty seems to have left him. He has
+retreated to a back seat. Is he projecting further adventures in desert
+islands, or giving lessons in punting? Anxious inquiries are being made
+at the offices of the _Record_. Colonial papers in the neighbourhood of
+desert islands, please copy."
+
+Paul, on reading these paragraphs, knew well enough who was meant by
+"two P's." They were the initials of his own name--Paul Percival.
+
+But his mind was taken from these happenings by a message from the
+sick-room. Hibbert had been up for a few hours each day, and had pleaded
+hard with the doctor to be allowed to go out; so the doctor at last gave
+the nurse permission. On two days the invalid went out with the nurse.
+
+On the third day he asked Paul, as a special favour, to take him out.
+Paul willingly consented, only too pleased to feel that he could be of
+some help to him again. There was one favourite spot to which the
+solitary boy used to go when he was well. It was in the garden attached
+to the schoolhouse, apart altogether from the playing-fields. It was
+marked "Private," and the boys, as a rule, were not allowed there. It
+was chiefly used by the masters.
+
+It was because it was so tranquil, so different from the playing-fields,
+and because the sun seemed to linger around this old garden longer than
+anywhere else, that the dreamy boy loved it, and used to steal there
+when he was well.
+
+"I'm so glad to feel you on my arm again, Hibbert!" said Paul, as he led
+him to a basket-seat, with cushions, beneath a wide-spreading elm.
+
+"I feel better now than I've felt for a long time, Paul. How I must have
+wearied people lying up there!"
+
+He glanced in the direction of the school.
+
+"Don't say that, Hibbert. It sounds as though there was no one in the
+world who cared for you."
+
+"I know it sounds ungrateful; but even when we care for people, we must
+get weary of them when they're ill a long time. I don't mean you, but
+the nurse, and doctor, and--other people."
+
+Paul knew that Hibbert was thinking chiefly of his father, who, absorbed
+in his own schemes, had only been to see him once since his illness--on
+that afternoon when Mr. Weevil had introduced him to Zuker.
+
+To turn the boy's mind from these sad thoughts, Paul told him some of
+the latest exploits of Plunger, winding up with his recent discovery of
+him under the bed in his dormitory. Hibbert was amused and interested.
+
+"Plunger's a funny lot. He makes me smile to think of him. I hope he's
+never worried himself much about that raft accident?"
+
+"Plunger's not the sort of fellow to worry himself much about anything
+for long; but he's often asked me about you."
+
+"I was thinking a good deal about what happened on the raft last night.
+I could not sleep for thinking of it; and then, when I went to sleep, I
+dreamed--dreamed that my mother was standing by me all in white. She was
+smiling down at me, and held out her arms to me. I tried to get to her,
+and in trying to get to her I awoke. Do you know, I was so disappointed!
+The dream was better than the awaking. I so wished my mother had lived,
+for then you would have known her, Paul. I'm sure you would have liked
+her, and that she would have liked you. But perhaps it is best as it
+is."
+
+"I'm sure it's for the best, though it seems hard to say so. Everything
+is for the best, Hibbert. We don't see it, because we're only blind
+people leading the blind. But God sees, and God knows. That's what my
+mother has told me so often that I've never forgotten it. It has helped
+me a lot--more than I can tell you. You've talked about your mother, let
+me tell you a little about my own."
+
+And Paul talked to Hibbert about his own mother. The boy listened
+eagerly, with one hand resting in Paul's, a smile upon his lips.
+Suddenly he drew a deep sigh of content; the fragile head fell back upon
+the chair; the hand in Paul's grew suddenly cold.
+
+Paul looked into the boy's face. The smile still hovered about his lips,
+but he saw something in the face he had never seen there before.
+
+"Hibbert!" he cried. But there was no response.
+
+Paul gently withdrew his hand and ran to the house. He met Sedgefield,
+and sent him for the nurse, while he hurried back to Hibbert.
+
+The little fellow was still lying back in the chair. A wren had perched
+itself lovingly upon his shoulder, but Hibbert knew nothing of its
+presence. He was fast asleep--in the long, last sleep that knows no
+waking.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+HOW THE VOTE WAS CARRIED
+
+
+Hibbert's death caused a lull in the storm that recent events had raised
+at Garside. Notwithstanding his illness, it was thought that he was
+getting better. It came, therefore, with a shock to the school when he
+was found sleeping that afternoon in the garden. The little fellow was
+laid to rest in a country churchyard, at some distance from the school,
+by the side of the mother whom he had so loved.
+
+No one in the school, with the exception, perhaps, of Mr. Weevil, missed
+him so much as Paul did. He had a great pity for Hibbert, and that pity
+had grown to love. He never forgot that last scene in the garden--in the
+warm sunshine, with the shadows creeping over it, and the Great Shadow
+of all drawing nearer and nearer, until it at last rested on the boy's
+head.
+
+Nor did he forget the interview he afterwards had with Mr. Weevil, when,
+with tones that were strangely uneven for Mr. Weevil, he had questioned
+him about all that Hibbert had said in those last moments before he had
+fallen asleep. When Paul told him what the boy had said about his
+mother--of his dream, and the awakening--the master's eyes blinked as he
+had never seen them blink before.
+
+"Ah! He has his wish; he is with her--with his mother," said the master,
+as one speaking to himself rather than to Paul. "He is at rest
+and--happy."
+
+Then he remained silent for so long, as one buried in deep thought, that
+he seemed to have quite forgotten the presence of Paul. Paul knew of
+whom he was thinking; that he, too, was thinking of the boy's
+mother--the sister whom he had loved and reverenced; so he stole
+quietly from the room.
+
+During this time Paul saw nothing of Hibbert's father. He wondered
+whether he was still carrying on his schemes in the cave, or whether the
+death of his son had altered his plans in any way. In any case, Paul
+felt no cause for alarm. The letter of Mr. Moncrief had removed all
+cause for anxiety. None the less he could not help feeling anxious as to
+what had become of the letter itself. Where had it gone to on that day
+it had fallen from his pocket? Into whose hands had it fallen? Had it
+fallen into the hands of the enemy, Newall and his lot? If so, what use
+were they making of it?
+
+He was still left pretty much to himself, so he was able to put the
+finishing touches to his essay on "The Invasion of Great Britain," a
+subject, as the reader knows, which had occupied some share of his time
+and attention. Then the essay was sent in with others for the
+competition.
+
+The breach between him and Stanley, as may be imagined, had not been
+lessened by what had happened between them in the common room. Stanley
+avoided him as much as possible, and they never spoke.
+
+After the momentary lull in the storm caused by the death of Hibbert, it
+broke out again more violently than ever. This was due to the fact that
+Mr. Weevil had made no inquiry, or seemed to have made no inquiry, into
+the circumstances which had brought about the return of the flag. Newall
+and his parasite Parfitt said it was a disgrace to the school.
+
+Thus the storm, which had momentarily lulled, broke out with fresh
+vigour. While it was at its height, the Fifth once more assembled in the
+Forum. Hasluck presided, as usual, and the rest of the Form, with one
+exception--Paul--were present. Arbery and Leveson guarded the door
+against invasion from "the little beggars of the Third and Fourth."
+
+Hasluck mounted the rostrum, and brought his mallet down with a bang as
+a signal that the meeting had commenced.
+
+"Now then, you fellows, order! I'm not going to spout a lot----"
+
+"Couldn't if you tried!" put in Devey.
+
+"Look here, Devey, are you in the chair, or am I? If you don't keep
+quiet, I'll chuck the mallet at you," said Hasluck, raising it
+threateningly. "As I said before, till I was interrupted by an ass
+braying, I'm not going to spout a lot. What we've got to do is to get to
+business, and most of you know what that business is."
+
+"Hear, hear, hear!"
+
+"Most of you were present in the common room when certain charges were
+made against Percival by Moncrief major. He told Percival to his face
+that the flag business was all a dodge; that it was engineered between
+him and the champion of the Beetles. Percival denied it; but you know
+what happened after that. Moncrief struck him, and Percival went away
+with his tail between his legs just as he did at the sand-pits. We were
+all disgusted----"
+
+"All!" echoed the others, with the exception of Waterman, who was
+reclining languidly on a box, apparently quite unconcerned in what was
+going on.
+
+"We were all disgusted, and decided to take some action which would
+bring matters to a point. Unfortunately, Hibbert died just then, and we
+could do nothing. We were obliged to wait a decent interval. The time
+for waiting's past." (Cheers.) "We've got to get to business. Moncrief
+major will explain."
+
+Stanley, with white, set face, was standing between Newall and Parfitt.
+After the charge he had made against Paul at Newall's instigation, and
+the blow that had followed it, he had been forced into a position from
+which it was impossible for him to retreat. First he had been adroitly
+forced into the position of being Paul's accuser; and now, with no less
+adroitness, he had been compelled to take a step which struck more
+cruelly at his friend.
+
+"Oh, I haven't much to explain," he said, in a thick, unnatural voice.
+"As Hasluck has said, we all decided to take action after what happened
+in the common room. Hibbert's death prevented us. I think you know what
+that action is. We're going to call upon the Head to expel Percival from
+the school."
+
+A loud cheer greeted this announcement. There could be no doubt as to
+the feeling of the Form, and that Stanley had voiced it.
+
+"Move, move!" came from several of the boys, when the cheers had
+subsided.
+
+"Yes, we must have everything in order," said Hasluck. "It's about the
+first time that we've ever called upon the masters to expel a fellow."
+
+Stanley hesitated. How was it possible for him to strike at Paul
+again--this time behind his back!
+
+"Get on--move! What are you stopping for?" demanded Parfitt, nudging him
+with his elbow. "I'll back you up."
+
+"Get on," repeated Newall, nudging him from the other side.
+
+"I--I move," said Stanley, in faltering tones, "that we call upon the
+Head to expel Percival from the school."
+
+"And I second!" cried Parfitt.
+
+"And I support!" exclaimed Newall.
+
+"Hands up for!" demanded Hasluck.
+
+"One minute before you vote," came the languid voice of Waterman, as the
+hands shot up. "You don't want to be in such a hurry. It's bad for the
+nerves. People in a hurry have fits. They get themselves into knots and
+tangles which take no end of time to get out of, and leave them with a
+lovely headache into the bargain. That's what you're going in for--fits,
+tangles, headaches. I gave Moncrief major credit for sense. You're not
+going to follow his lead, are you?"
+
+The arms that were held up fell. The boys stared at Waterman in
+astonishment. It was not often that he took the trouble to speak at
+these meetings, but when he did it was usually to the point.
+
+"Of course we are. Why shouldn't we?" exclaimed Parfitt.
+
+"You'll be bigger asses than I took you for--and that's saying a good
+deal, you know--if you do. I didn't hear all that took place after
+Moncrief struck Percival. The atmosphere was getting bad, you see, and I
+don't like breathing bad atmosphere, if I can help it; so I don't know
+what passed between you fellows. I've no doubt it was something choice,
+and that I lost a great deal; so perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me
+why Percival's to be expelled."
+
+This demand on Waterman's part, made in the most innocent manner, was
+met with howls of derision. They could never quite tell from Waterman's
+manner whether he was serious or poking fun at them; but this time it
+seemed quite clear that he could only be poking fun.
+
+"Yes, that's very musical," proceeded Waterman calmly, when the howling
+had subsided. "I couldn't do better myself, if I tried. You're going to
+expel Percival because you believe he engineered the flag. That's it,
+isn't it?" (Cries of assent.) "Good! I like to get at things," retorted
+Waterman, still keeping his languid position on the box. "Engineering
+the flag means--what? It means that Percival, by trickery, got it away
+from Garside. Is that it?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" came the approving shout.
+
+"Well, vote as you like. Here's one that's going to vote against you."
+
+"Why? What's your reason?"
+
+"Because I happen to remember what happened on the day the flag was
+lost. Seems to me most of you have forgotten."
+
+Waterman had started up from his languid position on the box; his face
+had lost its wearied, languid expression, and had become quite animated.
+
+"I haven't, and never shall, though I never pretend to remember things;
+they're so beastly uninteresting, as a rule. This wasn't. That's why I
+remember, I suppose. Well, on the afternoon the flag was lost I was
+going from the school, when I nearly ran full tilt against a fellow who
+was carrying a little chap, dripping wet, in his arms. The fellow was
+Percival; the little chap was Hibbert. You know what happened, though
+you seem to have forgotten it. Percival, at the risk of his own life,
+saved the little chap from the river."
+
+Stanley's head fell to his breast. The scene came to him as Waterman was
+speaking. Had he not met Paul on that day staggering along with his
+burden? Had he not avoided him, when he might have given a helping hand?
+
+"What's that to do with it?" demanded Newall. "Supposing Percival did
+pull the youngster out of the river, what's that to do with the flag?"
+
+"What's that to do with the flag!" repeated Waterman. "It's this to do
+with it--how could Percival be playing tricks with the flag, and fishing
+at the same time a poor little chap out of the river? Besides, would a
+fellow who'd done a splendid thing like that stoop to such a mean thing
+as the other?"
+
+"Yes," retorted Newall boldly. "A fellow who would turn tail like he did
+at the sand-pits, and again in the common room, would do anything. It's
+you who forget, Waterman. We've asked Percival for an explanation. If
+he's innocent, why doesn't he explain?"
+
+"I don't know, and what's more, I don't care. What I've seen of Percival
+is quite good enough for me."
+
+"Vote, Vote!" cried Parfitt. "We don't want any more twaddle."
+
+Hasluck brought down his hammer as a signal that discussion was at an
+end. Then he put the motion moved by Stanley--"That the Form call upon
+the Head to expel Percival from the school."
+
+Stanley would have voted against his own proposal had it been possible.
+But it was impossible; so his hand went up with the rest--all save one.
+
+"Against!" cried Hasluck.
+
+Up went the hand of Waterman, amid the derisive cheers of those around
+him.
+
+"Phew! The atmosphere of this place is getting beastly, just like the
+common room on the day when the shindy was. Phew! I don't wish to be
+unpolite, but I'm sure you fellows won't mind if I get out of it."
+
+And thrusting his hands into his pockets, Waterman sauntered out.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So the vote was carried that Paul Percival should be expelled from
+Garside.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+WATERMAN DOES A STRANGE THING
+
+
+For one who had professed himself as beastly hot and fagged, Waterman
+did a strange thing after he had left the Forum. He walked with a speed
+that was simply amazing for him in the direction of St. Bede's; and what
+was still more remarkable, he did not stop until he had reached it. None
+of the Beetles were about at the time, but he had not long to wait
+before he caught sight of one of the junior form.
+
+"Will you tell Wyndham I wish to see him--as quickly as possible."
+
+The boy stared at him, as Murrell had stared at Paul when he had visited
+St. Bede's. It was not till he had repeated his message that he seemed
+to comprehend.
+
+"Quick, there isn't much time to lose!" exclaimed Waterman, as though it
+were a matter of life and death.
+
+Then the boy hurried off, and a minute or two later Wyndham appeared.
+Waterman was unknown to him; so that he was just as much astonished at
+seeing him as the smaller boy had been.
+
+"I'm a Gargoyle, you can see that. My name's Waterman, and I've come
+here about a fellow named Percival. Spare me the fag of explaining too
+much."
+
+"Percival! What about him!" demanded Wyndham, at once interested.
+
+"There's a strong movement on foot to get him expelled from Garside.
+It's chiefly over the flag. His best friend, or one who was, has turned
+against him; and things are looking as black for Percival as they can
+look. I'm afraid that he'll get the worst of it, unless something's
+done. I can do nothing; so I've come to you. There's some beastly
+mystery about the whole business. Percival won't explain because of
+somebody else, and that somebody else is you. I'm certain you won't see
+Percival kicked from Garside, if a few words from you will set things
+right."
+
+"Kicked from Garside!" exclaimed Wyndham. "Tell me what happened?"
+
+Waterman, feeling that the time for speaking frankly had come, told
+Wyndham all that had happened--from the day Wyndham had fought and
+conquered Stanley in the sand-pits.
+
+They remained a long time in conversation, and when Waterman at length
+returned to Garside, Wyndham returned with him.
+
+In the meantime an interview of a different nature was taking place at
+Garside. After the meeting in the Forum, Stanley, feeling very wretched,
+had retreated to his dormitory, where in a few minutes he was joined by
+his cousin Harry, who was looking just as miserable and uncomfortable.
+
+"I say, Stan, is it right what I hear--that Percival is to be kicked out
+of Garside?"
+
+"Well, what if he is? Doesn't he deserve it?"
+
+"I don't know. It's a puzzle. I can't make things out. Look at this
+letter. I picked it up while the shindy was going on between you and
+Paul in the common room. All the fellows were crowding round you. No one
+saw the letter but me. Paul dropped it when he was mopping the blood
+from his face. I ought to have given it back, but I saw that it was
+father's handwriting; so I sneaked off with it, and read it; and
+then--then I knew that I'd done a mean thing and did not like to give it
+back to Paul."
+
+He handed Stanley the letter--the letter in which Mr. Moncrief had
+answered Paul's inquiries about Zuker and Mr. Weevil, and concluded by
+inviting him and Stanley to Redmead at the next vacation.
+
+"What does it all mean?" demanded Stanley, when he had read the letter.
+
+"I can't make out. I thought, perhaps, you might be able to throw light
+on it."
+
+"I'm afraid not; but you might leave it with me. I'll think it over."
+
+"All right; but I say, Stan, you must do something to prevent Paul being
+chucked from the school. That's going it a bit too strong. I know whose
+working that beastly dodge--Newall and his jackal Parfitt."
+
+How could Stanley tell his cousin that it was he--Stanley Moncrief--who
+had actually moved that Paul should be expelled from the school? If it
+were possible for Stanley to have felt more wretched than he had felt
+when Harry came to him, he certainly did so when he was once more alone.
+"I know the great friendship there is between you and my nephew
+Stanley." Those were the words which stared him in the face. Friendship?
+What mockery! How had he proved his friendship? By doing his best to get
+Paul expelled from the school. What would his uncle say to him when he
+next visited Redmead? It was to show him this letter Paul had doubtless
+come to him that day in the common room. And he had met him--with a
+blow. It was dastardly.
+
+He must do his best to undo the mischief he had done. Stanley started
+up, and went to the door; then he paused, and his heart began to harden
+again.
+
+After all, if mischief had been created, Paul was alone responsible. It
+was he, and not Stanley, who had acted in a dastardly manner. It was he
+who had run away at the sand-pits, and left him to fight his battle with
+the beastly Beetle; it was he----
+
+His meditations were cut short by the door being opened, and the
+entrance of Waterman.
+
+"Hallo, Moncrief. The very fellow I've been looking for. Horrid bore
+looking for fellows. Phew! Close in here, isn't it? You look a bit off.
+Come for a little stroll. I've got a fellow who's dying for an
+introduction to you."
+
+Waterman slipped an arm through Stanley's, and before Stanley was aware
+of it, had led him through the door.
+
+"A fellow--wants to be introduced to me! What fellow?" he demanded.
+
+"Ah, that's it. What fellow? You'd never guess. It's a pleasant little
+surprise I've got in store for you. Think of all your rich uncles and
+aunts, and people of that sort. Ha, ha! A pleasant surprise, lovely,
+delightful. Mustn't spoil it by telling you. Come along."
+
+Waterman's reference to uncles at once reminded Stanley of the uncle
+whose letter he had been reading. Could it be that his uncle Moncrief
+was paying him a surprise visit? But Waterman did not take him to the
+visitors'-room. He took him out of the grounds to some elms which
+flourished not far from the school. Here a boy was leaning against one
+of the trees. Stanley glanced at him; then turned white. It was Wyndham.
+
+"Told you I had a little surprise," said Waterman. "Wasn't I right? I
+like little surprises--don't you? Explanations are an awful bore. I
+never like explanations if I can get out of them. Wyndham's got
+something to tell you. You'll find him very decent for a Beetle."
+
+And Waterman vanished with a speed which was really marvellous for him,
+leaving the two together. The last time they had met face to face they
+had met as antagonists, and had fought hard. The memory of that time was
+present to both of them, for neither seemed anxious to break the
+silence.
+
+"Do I understand that you wish to see me?" Stanley presently asked.
+
+"Yes; it was kind of you to come."
+
+"You needn't compliment me, for I mightn't have come had I known whom I
+had to meet," answered Stanley coldly. "Waterman misled me."
+
+"Anyhow, I'm glad you have come, and so will you be, I think, before you
+go back. I hope you don't look upon me as an enemy?"
+
+"How else can I look upon you? Have you sent for me to mock me?"
+
+"That's my last wish. I've sent for you to prevent you doing a great
+wrong to a friend of yours--Paul Percival."
+
+"A friend of mine!" repeated Stanley, scornfully.
+
+"Well, one who was your friend, and who, I hope, will soon be your
+friend again."
+
+"You have more reason to be thankful to him than I have," laughed
+Stanley, bitterly. "He ran away from you, and left me with the work he
+hadn't the courage to go on with. I know that I didn't come very well
+out of it, but I didn't run away."
+
+"No; you did well--much better than I did. I'm sorry, very sorry, I
+fought with you. More so, as by fighting you I separated two friends.
+Often and often I have prayed to be forgiven. It has all been a ghastly
+mistake."
+
+"Mistake? Percival running away--there wasn't much mistake about that,
+I'm thinking."
+
+"That is the greatest mistake of all. All of you put it down to fear of
+me; but it wasn't--far otherwise. I don't believe that Paul Percival
+knows what fear is; and you, who were his friend, ought to have known
+that as well as I do."
+
+"So I thought--up till then. After, what could I think? What could any
+of us think?"
+
+"Your best of him, instead of your worst. Haven't you ever suspected the
+reason why he would not stand up to me?"
+
+"Never! Why?"
+
+"Blind--blind! Do you remember that Percival on one occasion--during
+last vacation--helped a gentleman in distress by acting as his
+messenger?"
+
+"Quite well, seeing that that gentleman was my father."
+
+"Your father? Yes, that was the gentleman, I believe, for whom Percival
+did this kindness. He was set upon by the way by two ruffians, but
+managed to escape. Did he ever tell you how he managed it?"
+
+"By hiding down a well."
+
+"Right! But there was a boy who helped him to this queer hiding-place.
+That boy was me!"
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes. On the day Percival came to the sand-pits to meet the champion of
+the Beetles, he little knew whom he was to meet. I knew as little whom I
+was to meet. He looked upon me as one who had saved his life. How could
+he fight me? So he turned away."
+
+"Why didn't he explain?" asked Stanley.
+
+"And give away his secret, or, rather, your father's secret, before that
+mob of boys? You--you ask that?"
+
+"But after----"
+
+"After? From what he has told me, he made more than one effort to
+explain to you, but you would never listen to him."
+
+It was true enough. Stanley remembered it all--the effort Paul had made
+to speak to him immediately after the fight, and later. Everything was
+now clear. How noble Paul had been! How he had wronged him! He covered
+his face with his hands. He could not speak. Wyndham respected his
+silence.
+
+At length he placed his hand upon the bowed shoulder. Stanley did not
+shrink from it.
+
+"I'm sorry if I've caused you pain; but it was the only way. Mischief is
+being done. You must prevent it from going any further."
+
+"I will--I will! You can trust me," cried Stanley, fervently. "Paul,
+Paul, how I've wronged you!"
+
+"I'm glad you see that. You will make it up with him--you will be
+friends with him once more?"
+
+"Yes, yes; if he will have my friendship. But I don't deserve it. I
+deserve kicking. It was kind of you to take so much trouble."
+
+Wyndham turned on his heel, but as suddenly turned round again.
+
+"Would you mind taking my hand, Moncrief?" he said.
+
+Stanley took it in his, and shook it heartily.
+
+"Thanks; I am very sorry it was raised against you. But we understand
+one another better now."
+
+Stanley wiped away the mist that had somehow gathered in his eyes, and
+when he could see clear Wyndham had gone.
+
+Then he went in search of Paul, anxious to ask his forgiveness, and
+undo, as best he could, the mischief that had been done. But he could
+not find him.
+
+He searched everywhere with the same result. And, what was still more
+astonishing, his cousin was also missing.
+
+Night came on, and still Paul and Harry were missing from the school.
+
+Mr. Weevil began to get alarmed. It was past ten, and still no news of
+the missing boys. What had become of them?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+IN THE FOX'S HOLE
+
+
+What had become of Paul? What was the cause of his absence from the
+school? Had he heard of the decision come to by his Form, and instead of
+waiting to be expelled, had he left of his own accord? That was the view
+of Newall and others of the Fifth.
+
+"About the best thing he could have done," said Parfitt. "It wasn't only
+the flag business, but there were other things in the background. The
+Black Book business has never been cleared up, you know."
+
+Parfitt made this remark in his most significant manner, with uplifted
+eyebrows and a shrug of the shoulders.
+
+"That's right. Kick a man when he's down," drawled Waterman. "Parfitt's
+better at a drop kick than any fellow I know."
+
+The Third were just as much concerned over the disappearance of
+Moncrief, jun., as the Fifth were over the disappearance of Percival.
+Stanley was doubly anxious--anxious for Paul, anxious for his cousin.
+
+Could they have gone away together? That was scarcely likely. They were
+hardly on speaking terms for one thing; and even if the idea of running
+away from Garside had suddenly come into Paul's head, it was not at all
+likely that he had induced Harry to run away with him. What, then, had
+happened?
+
+While the school was thus anxiously awaiting news of the missing boys,
+we will try to explain what had really happened.
+
+Paul knew that a meeting of his Form had been called, and that he and
+his doings were to be discussed, probably censured. When would the time
+arrive that he might take steps to defend himself? When would his lips
+be unsealed? How much longer would Mr. Moncrief keep him in suspense,
+and what had become of Zuker?
+
+Unconsciously Paul had strayed from the school to the garden where
+Hibbert had, not so long since, fallen asleep--in the sleep that knows
+no waking. He sat for a long time under the tree, thinking of these
+things, with no one to disturb his thoughts, save the birds that
+fluttered around him as they used to flutter around Hibbert.
+
+What had become of Hibbert's father? Again and again the question came
+to him, and he could not dismiss it from his thoughts. He thought of the
+strange circumstance under which he had last seen him--of that weird
+scene in the cave with the man Brockman. All that had happened at that
+interview was fixed indelibly on his memory. He could see Zuker tracing
+with his finger on the chart the passage of the Dutch to the
+Medway--could hear his voice as he described all that had happened as
+they broke the chain on the river and advanced on Upnor Castle.
+Then--then had followed the strange appearance of the master, and the
+still stranger interview between him and Zuker.
+
+Was the cave still there? Often and often a strong desire had seized
+Paul to go there again, but he had resisted it. Now, however, as he
+thought of all that had happened on the evening he went there, the
+impulse grew so strong upon him that he could wrestle with it no longer.
+He must respond to its call.
+
+So, as one under some mighty spell, Paul passed from the garden, and was
+soon on his way to Cranstead Common.
+
+It was beginning to get dusk as he followed the trail along which he had
+once followed in the footsteps of Mr. Weevil. After travelling some time
+in the direction of the river, he came to the thickly-wooded part, where
+the master had disappeared.
+
+Searching amongst the brambles, he found the curious division which
+marked the centre, and placing his hand beneath the bushes as before, he
+was not long in finding the ring that was attached to the circular
+opening. Raising it, he entered again the sloping tunnel cut in the
+sandstone.
+
+Though he had only been in that tunnel once before, he had travelled
+along it so often in imagination since that it seemed to him he was on
+familiar ground. He had hesitated when he first entered it. He knew not
+whither it would lead him, what dangers might meet him on the way. He
+hesitated no longer. Still he walked cautiously, with his hands before
+him, like a blind man in the darkness, until it began to broaden. Once
+he thought he heard footsteps behind him, and he came to a sudden pause.
+Was some one really following him, or was it only the echo of his own
+footsteps?
+
+He listened attentively, but could hear nothing. It was as silent as the
+tomb.
+
+"My ears must have deceived me," he told himself, as he continued his
+way.
+
+Presently he came to that part of the tunnel where a faint film of light
+penetrated into it, and again the fantastic shadows he had before seen
+seemed to menace him at every footstep he took. The cave, then, was not
+deserted. It was still inhabited by some one. Who? Zuker and
+Brockman--the same tenants as before, or had some one else come into
+possession?
+
+Yes, there was the curtain, partly concealing the main entrance to the
+cave. To reach it, he crawled on hands and knees as before, and peered
+through the space between the curtain and the wall.
+
+There was no anthracite fire burning this time. It was dimly lighted by
+one of the lamps suspended from the roof. There was no sign of life. The
+place seemed deserted.
+
+Paul waited for a long time listening. No sound came from the cave. It
+was as silent as the tomb. But as he listened, he thought that he could
+again hear the sound of a light step behind him, coming along the path
+he had travelled.
+
+Was it possible that some one else had entered the tunnel? Surely the
+master had not again followed unconsciously in his footsteps? Paul
+turned his head and listened, but it was as silent in that direction as
+the other.
+
+"I'm getting as nervous as a kitten," he laughed to himself. "My ears
+have again deceived me."
+
+No one appeared to be in the cave. Mr. Moncrief had said in his letter
+that he knew about Zuker's movements. Could it have been that he had
+been arrested? It was just possible. Anyhow, he would like to have a
+nearer view of the cave. There could be no danger, and if there were, it
+was worth the risk.
+
+So Paul rose from his hiding-place behind the curtain, and stepped
+cautiously into the cave. The guns and cutlasses were still hanging on
+the wall, but the models and designs had gone, and the photographic
+camera had gone from its niche.
+
+There was a passage on the other side of the chamber similar to the one
+through which he had come.
+
+"Where does that lead to, I wonder?" thought Paul.
+
+There could be no harm in exploring it a little way. He might just as
+well know where it led to, if it were possible to find out. The
+information might be useful. Paul was animated with the adventurous
+spirit of the explorer, which knows no rest until it is satisfied. He
+crossed to the opening. At the moment he reached it, a figure emerged
+from the darkness, and confronted him. It was Zuker.
+
+It was so sudden, so unexpected, that Paul could not move. He stood
+there as one rooted to the spot. Before he could move, the man had
+sprung upon him with the swiftness of a tiger, and seizing him by the
+throat, dragged him to the light.
+
+"You!" he cried. "The boy from Garside. Your name is----"
+
+"Paul Percival," gasped Paul, as the fierce grip relaxed.
+
+"Paul Percival. _Ach Himmel!_ It is Fate itself."
+
+He had in turn shrunk back, as though Paul were no longer a being of
+flesh and blood, but a phantom. Then he murmured hoarsely to himself:
+"Weevil was right. The hand of a Higher than man is in it."
+
+In the uncertain light he had not at first recognized Paul; but now he
+saw him, and knew that just as he had once been face to face with the
+father at a supreme crisis in his life, now he was face to face with the
+son. Had Paul seized that moment of stupefaction, he might have escaped,
+but he made no effort. And the moment passed.
+
+"Who showed you this place? Who brought you here?" demanded Zuker,
+himself again.
+
+"No one; I found it out myself."
+
+"How?"
+
+"That is my secret."
+
+Zuker's hand went to his breast, to a weapon concealed there.
+
+"Be careful how you answer, boy. You're not now in school, and you
+haven't a school-master to deal with. Is this the first time you've been
+here?"
+
+"No."
+
+Zuker started in spite of himself.
+
+"Not the first time! How many times have you been here before then, may
+I ask?"
+
+"Once."
+
+"_Ach!_ Now I understand. It is through you my plans have been defeated.
+It is through you my man--_mein_ Brockman--has been arrested. It is
+through you that I have scarcely dared venture from this hole for two
+days past. You have been a mean, dirty spy."
+
+"As you were to my father when I was a child." The words were upon
+Paul's lips, but he forced them back. Then aloud, "I've not been a spy.
+I've told no one."
+
+Zuker looked searchingly into Paul's face.
+
+"Who has told, then--who has given information to the police, to what is
+called your Secret Investigation Department--if it is not you?"
+
+Paul was silent. He now understood Mr. Moncrief's letter. It must have
+been Mr. Weevil who had given information to Mr. Moncrief, it must have
+been he who had kept him informed of Zuker's doings. Mr. Weevil was not
+a traitor to his country, after all. Nay, it seemed as though he had
+striven, in his peculiar way, to defend it against traitors.
+
+"Silent, eh? I can see what you've told me is false. You have worked
+against me from the first. It was you who outwitted me once before. It
+was you who got that packet through to the man who has always stood
+between me and my plans, the Admiralty man, Moncrief. All would have
+been over; I should have got all through had it not been for that. _Ach
+Himmel_, you will not have the chance of blabbing any more secrets! I
+have you now--tight in the Fox's Hole--and you will not leave it alive.
+Let me see what your school is good for. I will give you five minutes
+to get ready for _sterblichkeit_. _Ach_, it is a long word! Do you know
+what it means?"
+
+Paul knew what it meant. It was the German word for mortality.
+
+"Thank you," answered Paul simply. "That is longer than my father had
+when he was called upon to die, and it should be enough for me."
+
+Zuker's hand trembled as it fingered the weapon concealed in his breast.
+Paul closed his eyes, and repeated in a low, yet clear voice:
+
+"'Our Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom
+come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day
+our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that
+trespass against us----"
+
+"Halt! Stop!" cried Zuker hoarsely. "You spoke of your father just
+now--how he died. Tell me quickly how it was."
+
+"He was drowned, in saving the life of a man who had robbed him."
+
+"_Ach!_ And do you know who that man was?"
+
+No answer came from Paul's lips for several seconds, seconds that seemed
+as hours. Deep silence reigned in the cave, then it was broken by the
+clear voice of the boy:
+
+"Yes; I know who that man was. He called himself Israel Zuker."
+
+Zuker could not repress a movement of astonishment as Paul pronounced
+his name.
+
+"Knowing this--knowing that it was through me your father lost his life,
+you could yet say that prayer--'As we forgive them that trespass against
+us'? You are as brave as your father was," came hoarsely from his lips.
+
+"I could wish no greater praise than that," answered Paul. "But I had
+not finished. Shall I go on?"
+
+"You need not be in so great a hurry. Wait till I tell you. I have one
+or two more questions to ask you. How did you come to know that I was
+the man who spied upon your father--the man through whom he lost his
+life--the man----_Ach!_" He stopped himself suddenly. His brow darkened;
+the veins stood out in knots upon his forehead. "Fool! Why didn't I
+guess it? I see it all now. It is your master--it is Weevil who told
+you. It is Weevil who has betrayed me."
+
+His hand went to the weapon in his breast again.
+
+"No, you are mistaken; Mr. Weevil has told me nothing. He has not
+betrayed you."
+
+"You are telling me false. You are trying to mislead me. Beware! No one
+else knew my secret. Who else could tell you?"
+
+"I learned it from a little fellow whom I loved as a brother, and who
+loved me as a brother, too. Alas, he is now dead! We called him
+Hibbert."
+
+"Hibbert--my son!" Zuker's voice softened wonderfully as the words
+passed his lips; then it hardened again, as he demanded: "How was it my
+son came to betray me?"
+
+"It was after that accident on the river. Perhaps you have forgotten? It
+was I who helped him back to the school. And the dear little chap was
+always so grateful for it--always made such an awful fuss about it. That
+was his way--ever so much too sensitive and grateful. Poor little chap!"
+
+Paul brushed the back of his hand quickly across his eyes; and somehow
+the man did the same.
+
+"Well, I was often with him after that," he presently continued. "He
+felt that he would never get well, I think, and I could see that he
+suffered a good deal from something he had on his mind. I never guessed
+what it was; but one night, when I was sitting beside him, he told me
+that he could not sleep because of it, and he felt that if he didn't
+speak, God would never forgive him. That's how it was he came to tell me
+that you, Israel Zuker, were his father."
+
+"I see--I see! Now I understand!"
+
+Zuker strode across and across the chamber, as though uncertain how to
+act. At length he disappeared into one of the recesses of the cave,
+evidently used as a storehouse, and almost as instantly appeared again
+with a coil of rope in his hands.
+
+"For all you did for my son, I spare your life; but I must keep you here
+for a few hours. My safety depends on it."
+
+Paul knew that it was useless to protest. He knew well enough that
+Zuker had the power of shooting him as a dog, and he was not the man to
+stand any nonsense. So he allowed himself to be bound; and when he had
+bound him, Zuker brought out some cushions from the recess, and placed
+Paul on them.
+
+"There! I am making you as comfortable as circumstances will permit," he
+said. "_Gute nacht_--good-night. Remember Israel Zuker again in your
+prayers. _Ach!_ it was good of you to be kind to my boy when others so
+mocked and hated him. Adieu!"
+
+With these words, he passed swiftly out by the way he had come. Paul
+rested for a few minutes, thinking quietly over the strange interview
+through which he had just passed. It was kind of Zuker to spare his
+life, but he did not much appreciate the prospect of lying there, bound
+hand and foot, for several hours--nay, it might so happen that Zuker
+would never return.
+
+His last words had an odd sound. It was difficult to know what he meant
+by them. He might have an intention of returning, or he might not.
+Perhaps he was uncertain himself. He knew well enough that he might be
+arrested at any moment, just as his confederate had been. In that case
+he (Paul) might lie there, bound hand and foot, for days and nights,
+gradually getting weaker and weaker, and finally dying of starvation.
+The prospect was not a very agreeable one.
+
+So Paul determined to do his best to free himself of the coils that
+bound him. He was a strong boy, and struggled might and main to loosen
+them; but Zuker seemed to have tied them with devilish cunning. Struggle
+as Paul would, he was unable to loosen them. And the more he struggled,
+the more the rope cut into his flesh.
+
+"My! The tightest knots I've ever struck," said Paul, as he lay back
+gasping.
+
+"Paul!"
+
+What was that? An echo, or some one calling him by name?
+
+"Paul!"
+
+There it was again. Surely it was some one calling him. He tried to turn
+his quivering limbs in the direction whence the voice came. Was he awake
+or was he dreaming?
+
+The figure of a boy was creeping towards him--creeping, as it seemed
+to him, from the shadows in the tunnel. Who--who was it? Was it
+really a being of flesh and blood? At first it seemed to him that
+it must be the wraith of the little fellow about whom he had been
+speaking--Hibbert--but even as the thought filtered through his mind the
+boy was kneeling beside him, looking anxiously into his face.
+
+It was Moncrief minor.
+
+"Harry!" cried Paul in amazement.
+
+"Are you all right?" came in a whisper from the boy.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BOY WAS KNEELING BESIDE HIM,--IT WAS MONCRIEF
+MINOR.... 'ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?' CAME IN A WHISPER FROM THE BOY."]
+
+"Right enough, but not altogether comfortable. Where in the name of
+wonder did you spring from?"
+
+"Is there any chance of that man you called Zuker coming back?"
+
+"No; you may be sure of that."
+
+"Then, first, let me get that rope off."
+
+Paul, as may be imagined, was by no means opposed to that proceeding. So
+Harry drew out his pocket-knife and promptly severed his bonds.
+
+"Ah, that's better," cried Paul, springing to his feet and stretching
+his limbs. "It's worth while being tied up, so as to feel how nice it is
+to be free again. Now perhaps you'll tell me how you got here?"
+
+"There's really no fear of that man, Zuker, coming back?"
+
+"No; I'm sure of it."
+
+"Then I'll explain. First of all, I must tell you that I've done a mean
+thing. You lost a letter when that scrimmage took place between you and
+Stan in the Common Room. I found it, and seeing that it was from my
+father, read it; then I was too ashamed to give it back to you, so I
+kept it. Hearing that there'd been a meeting about you in the Forum, I
+took the letter to Stan and showed it to him. As I came away from
+interviewing Stan, I saw you hurrying through the gates. You looked
+round, and seemed anxious that no one should see you. That made me
+curious. I'd just been reading my father's letter to you--remember. I'd
+begun to see there was some mystery which wanted clearing up. Why
+shouldn't I have a hand in it? I asked myself. So forgive me, Paul, I
+followed you."
+
+Paul was silent. How could he blame him? Was it not the same spirit of
+curiosity which had first led him to that place?
+
+"It was fortunately dusk, and I took good care that you shouldn't see
+me," continued Harry. "Besides, you seemed to be so taken up with your
+own thoughts that you scarcely looked round once when you had gained the
+common. It was easy following you after that. I was never so puzzled in
+my life when I saw you creeping about amongst the bushes, then disappear
+through the ground.
+
+"I was so close to you then, that I saw the exact place where you had
+disappeared, so that it did not take me long to find the opening to the
+tunnel. I must say that I funked following you farther; but my curiosity
+grew. I was on the verge of a big discovery. If I followed you, I should
+find out the secret which would explain the mystery about you, and set
+you right with the school. Believe me, Paul, that was what I longed for,
+and I don't think that anything short of that would have made me go
+farther, and so I felt my way along the tunnel until I could just see
+you stretched at full length beside the curtains at the entrance to this
+place."
+
+Paul recalled the sounds he had heard as he made his way along the
+tunnel. His hearing had not deceived him after all.
+
+"I was still more amazed when I saw that, I can tell you. I was struck
+all of a heap," went on Harry. "What were you up to? What were you doing
+there? You seemed to be watching for somebody. Who? I was burning. I got
+more and more curious. All thought of turning back had gone. I must find
+out what it all meant. So, when you rose to your feet, and stepped
+cautiously into this chamber, I just as cautiously crept to the place
+where you had been lying, and watched you moving about. Then I saw the
+man you called Zuker enter, and all that went on after.
+
+"It was fearful, Paul. I saw you were in a fix, but I could do nothing
+to help you. Once I tried to cry out. It was when that man used the long
+foreign word. I did not understand what it meant at first, though you
+seemed to; but presently, when you began to say 'Our Father,' I knew
+what it meant. Then it was I tried to cry out, but no word came from my
+parched throat. I think it must have been God who prevented me from
+crying out, for had I done so, it might have been worse for both of us.
+
+"A minute later I could see that a great change had come over the man
+when you began speaking about your father and Hibbert. Then I was
+knocked all of a heap again when I learned that poor little Hibbert was
+the man's son, and that you knew it. I think that the time I passed
+while I was watching and listening behind the curtain was the most awful
+I have ever been through--yes, worse than the time on the raft, and
+that's saying a great deal; but there was one good thing about it--I was
+beginning to see how we had all wronged you at Garside--what a noble
+fellow you really are, Paul."
+
+"Humbug! Get on."
+
+"There's little more to tell. I didn't so much mind when the man bound
+you, especially as I saw that he was going to leave you. I waited till
+he had gone--long enough to make sure that he didn't mean popping in his
+head again; then I crept from my hiding-place. The rest you know. I hope
+you're not sorry I followed you?"
+
+Paul began to think that the hand of God was in this, as it had been in
+so many other things. It must have been Something Higher than mere
+chance which had prompted Harry to follow him to that place.
+
+"Heaven only knows what might have happened to me, Harry, if you hadn't
+followed me. But come, we mustn't waste any more time. We don't want to
+spend the night in this place."
+
+"Not quite, though I would not mind exploring it some other time,"
+exclaimed Harry, gazing round the chamber curiously. "Plunger would give
+something to strike on a place like this. It's chalks better than desert
+islands. Where does that other passage-way lead to?"
+
+Paul had more than once put the same question to him self. That place of
+mystery had often been in his thoughts since the day he had first
+visited it, and frequently had he asked himself--Where does it lead to
+on the other side? He had now seen clearly enough that there must be
+some way out on the other side, for Zuker had gone that way. If he
+could only find out, the information might be of some service to Harry's
+father.
+
+"I don't know, Harry; but I'd very much like to find out. Would you mind
+waiting here for a few minutes? I won't be long."
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"Going to explore--just a little way. The coast's clear."
+
+"Going to explore? Well, then, I do mind waiting here. If you mean
+exploring, I mean going with you."
+
+"Very well, Harry, we'll explore together."
+
+So the two boys passed together through the passage on the other side of
+the chamber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+THE BURNING SHIP
+
+
+The two boys had not gone very far before they came to a pause. It was
+impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them because of the
+darkness.
+
+"Let's try to get a light," suggested Paul. "We can get one, I think, in
+the place we've just come from."
+
+They returned to the chamber. Paul entered the recess from which Zuker
+had brought the rope and the cushions, and found that it was quite a
+storehouse; one part of it for provisions, tinned meats, fruits, fish;
+another for wood, tools, weapons, models; a third, for a curiously mixed
+wardrobe, which Paul guessed served the purpose of disguise. Here he
+found a lantern and matches, and thus provided with a light, they
+resumed their way.
+
+The gallery or tunnel along which they now passed was about two hundred
+feet long. The width, as Paul roughly judged, was about thirteen feet,
+narrowing to some six or seven feet at the top. It had been cut through
+the chalk bed, at a depth of about six feet below the sand which covered
+it. At the end of this gallery were two passages, extending right and
+left. Passing down the former, they found it blocked by heaps of sand
+and chalk.
+
+"It's quite certain we can't get out that way, Harry," said Paul; "we'd
+better try the other."
+
+So, retracing their footsteps once more, they passed along the other
+passage. It was not so wide as the one they had already traversed, but
+the way was clear for a hundred yards or so; then the tunnel came
+abruptly to an end.
+
+Paul regarded the wall in wonder. There was no way through it. Where,
+then, had Zuker gone? How had he managed to get out? Paul held the
+lantern up and examined the roof. It was clear to see that he was
+standing below what had once been the shaft to the tunnel. There were
+footholes in the sides.
+
+"Ah, there's the way out! Hold the lantern, Harry, while I try to find
+the open sesame," said Paul.
+
+Harry took the lantern, and Paul quickly made his way by means of the
+footholes to the top. He could then see that there was a square space
+which, though similar in appearance to the rest of the gallery,
+concealed the entrance to the shaft. He pushed it upward. It gave
+easily. It was a trap-door, leading into a square, ramshackle shed!
+
+Paul made his way through into the shed, and a minute later Harry
+followed his example. They closed the trap-door, which then formed part
+of the floor, and completely concealed the opening into the shaft.
+
+"Well, if that doesn't beat all!" exclaimed Harry, as the trap-door
+fell. "Mr. Zuker and his confederates must have been very tricky. No one
+would imagine what's beneath this old shed. Hallo! What's that?"
+
+As Harry spoke a lurid gleam of light lit up the semi-darkness of the
+shed; only for an instant; then it as quickly died out.
+
+"Seems like a fire somewhere," said Paul, as he tried to open the door
+of the shed; but it would not open. It was locked on the outside.
+
+"We shall have to get through the window, Harry."
+
+There was a small window on the right of the shed, just wide enough to
+get through.
+
+"All right. Follow my leader, Paul."
+
+Paul soon mounted to the window and climbed through. Harry quickly
+followed him. As he reached the ground there came another lurid gleam of
+light; then it died out as quickly as before.
+
+"There it goes again, Paul. What is it?"
+
+Paul was asking himself the same question. What was it? Whence did the
+light come? It was a dark night--no moon and few stars. But in the
+distance they could see lights flitting about like will-o'-the-wisps
+from the mastheads of ships; so they knew they were not far from the
+Medway.
+
+"Thought so. We're close to the river," said Paul. "Now that we've found
+out all that we can, we'd better make for Garside."
+
+"Yes. Hallo! there it goes again! Why--why, it's a ship on fire!"
+exclaimed Harry.
+
+It was now clear enough to see that Harry was right. A ship was on fire.
+The flames, at first spasmodic, uncertain, had now gained a complete
+hold of the ship, and were shooting upward, like fiery serpents, into
+the sky.
+
+All thought of Garside vanished from the boys' minds as they raced
+towards the river. As they drew nearer, they could see that the unusual
+spectacle had already attracted a great throng of spectators to the
+banks.
+
+Little wonder, for as the flames crept upward to the rigging, writhing
+inward and outward to the arms, it was a grand, if terrible sight. And
+there was pathos in it, too; for the ship on fire was one of the great
+wooden ships in the Navy of the past. Its day of action--of
+fighting--had long since passed. So, moored in midstream, it had been
+used as a storeship.
+
+The signal-lights "Ship on Fire" flashed along the river, and a
+picket-boat from a flagship, with other boats, approached as near as
+they could to the burning ship. Was there anybody on board? It seemed
+not--so far, at least, as could be seen.
+
+But suddenly a cry of horror went up from the crowd. A man had suddenly
+made his appearance on the deck. He rushed about like a hunted fox,
+trying to elude its pursuers; then, finding it impossible, flung
+himself, with a strange cry that long haunted Paul's ears, into the
+river.
+
+Paul knew that the man was Zuker. The picket-boat tried to reach him,
+but could not. The fire had enveloped the sides of the old ship, and
+shot out tongues of flame from every porthole. For the space of a minute
+Zuker's figure was seen silhouetted in flame against the darkness. Then
+the waters closed over him, and he was seen no more.
+
+"That--that was Zuker. I'm sure of it," Paul whispered to Harry, when he
+could speak.
+
+"I thought it looked like him, too," said Harry, in an awestruck
+whisper. "What could he be doing on that ship?"
+
+"Up to no good, I'm afraid; but good or ill, his work is ended now."
+
+Zuker had at last come to his death by the element from which Paul's
+father had saved him so long ago.
+
+"Yes; I don't think he'll trouble anybody again," answered Harry, as he
+slipped his arm, with a shudder, through Paul's.
+
+The flames from the middle of the ship were now leaping fifty feet into
+the air. The river manuals played upon it, but made little or no
+impression. It seemed to hiss back contempt and defiance as the water
+fell.
+
+The excitement of the spectators grew, for a new and terrible source of
+danger had revealed itself. The chains by which the old ship was moored
+were beginning to give way. If that happened, she might drift, a mass of
+flame, against any one of the warships lying in her path.
+
+"I say, Paul, this business may get father into a mess," Harry
+whispered.
+
+Paul had forgotten, for the time, Mr. Moncrief's connection with the
+Government dockyard. Harry's words reminded him. A dread fear took
+possession of him. Perhaps the fire had all been designed--perhaps it
+was the work of an incendiary, and that incendiary Mr. Moncrief's
+enemy--Zuker. So long as the fire was limited to the old wooden ship it
+would not much matter, but if it once got from its moorings, it was
+impossible to say where the mischief would end.
+
+"Oh, you needn't worry about your father, Harry," Paul answered, putting
+on his most cheerful voice and manner. "No one could blame him for a
+ship catching fire."
+
+"I don't know so much about that. Pater's held responsible for almost
+everything. It's a great shame, that's what it is."
+
+Paul thought the same, but did not venture to express an opinion. A buzz
+of excitement from the crowd broke in upon his meditations.
+
+Looking in the direction in which all eyes were turned, he saw that a
+gunboat was steaming along the river. It was making for the flaming
+hulk.
+
+"What's it going to do?" cried Harry, clutching Paul's arm excitedly.
+"It'll be right into the burning ship."
+
+Paul was too intent on watching the man[oe]uvres of the gunboat to
+answer.
+
+Suddenly, when it had got to within one hundred yards of the burning
+ship, it stopped and opened fire, just as though it had entered into
+action. Its target was the old ship--a mass of flame from bow to stern.
+The first shell, missing its mark, went hissing into the river. Jets of
+water shot upward into the air and fell in a sparkling cascade.
+
+Boom! A flash of light from the gunboat, a whiff of smoke. This time the
+shell finds its target. Myriads of sparks are whirled in a mad dance to
+the heavens, then drop again like golden rain into the river. Shell
+followed shell. The old warship, engaged in its last great battle,
+fought grimly on. Like the old Guard, it refused to surrender. Twelve
+shots had been fired. Raked from bow to stern, it was a pathetic
+spectacle, like some huge leviathan lying wounded to death on the water,
+with its undaunted heart throbbing a requiem.
+
+Shell could not vanquish it, so a charge of guncotton was exploded
+immediately beneath it; then the old warship gave a lurch. There was a
+flash of light--its last dying effort. After, darkness. The great tongue
+of flame was engulfed in the waters.
+
+The boys had been so absorbed in the terrible spectacle that they had
+taken no heed of time. But when the ship had gone down, they found that
+it was ten o'clock. Garside was a good three miles distant, so that it
+would be close upon eleven before they reached the school again.
+
+Three or four search-parties had been formed under the masters, and they
+met one of these as they neared the gates. It had been decided between
+Paul and Harry that nothing should be said about their adventures in the
+cave until Paul had had an explanation with Mr. Weevil. There was, of
+course, no reason why they should not speak of the exciting spectacle
+they had witnessed on the river.
+
+"It must have been a remarkable sight," admitted Mr. Travers, the head
+of the search-party, "but I don't think Mr. Weevil is likely to accept
+it as an excuse for your long absence from the school. Besides, you had
+no business to take with you a junior boy."
+
+Harry was about to explain that he had followed of his own accord, but a
+glance from Paul kept him silent. When they reached the school, they
+found Mr. Weevil awaiting them in the hall. He seemed to know that
+something unusual had happened.
+
+"Come to my room, Percival," he said.
+
+Percival followed him to his room, just as he had done on that day when
+Hibbert died.
+
+"Something has happened. What is it?" he demanded, as he closed the
+door.
+
+There was no need for secrecy longer, so Paul told the master
+everything--how he had discovered Hibbert's parentage; how he had
+discovered the cave, and all the events that had happened in the train
+of these discoveries up to the moment of Zuker's death.
+
+"Zuker dead!" exclaimed the master, when Paul came to this part of his
+story. "You are sure of it?"
+
+"As certain as I can be of anything, sir."
+
+Mr. Weevil paced up and down the room with his arms behind him. It was
+very clear to Paul to observe that he was very much agitated.
+
+"Dead! dead!" he kept repeating; then suddenly stopped, and confronting
+Paul astonished him by abruptly demanding: "And what do you think of
+me--eh? What do you think of your master--eh? You think him a precious
+scoundrel--eh? You think that he ought to be with Zuker in the
+river--eh?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+THE PETITION--WHAT BEFELL IT
+
+
+The master put the questions--the questions which formed so strong an
+indictment against himself--with grim solemnity. Paul scarcely knew how
+to answer him, so was silent.
+
+"Well?" persisted Mr. Weevil.
+
+"I must say that at one time I was suspicious of you, sir. I thought you
+were in league with traitors against your country--against England."
+
+"When did your opinion alter?"
+
+"When I heard you in the cave appealing to Zuker to give up his scheme;
+when I heard you telling him that the hand of a Higher than man was in
+it. Then I remembered that however stern you had been to others, you had
+been kind and tender to Hibbert, and it slowly dawned upon me that it
+was for poor Hibbert's sake you kept in with Zuker, that for his sake
+you were playing a part you did not care for."
+
+"Thank you. I'm glad you've done me justice in your own mind, Percival,"
+answered the master, with more feeling than he was in the habit of
+displaying. "You have guessed my motive precisely. It was for Hibbert's
+sake--the son of the sister I loved--that I kept on friendly terms with
+Zuker. But my duty to Hibbert--my love for him--did not make me blind to
+the interests of my country. All along I have been in communication with
+the Moncriefs. It was I who first communicated with Mr. Henry Moncrief,
+in cipher, the information of Zuker's arrival in England. It was
+arranged, however, that Zuker was to be allowed to develop his plans,
+along with his confederates, before any action was taken to checkmate
+him. The Admiralty wished to obtain complete information of all the
+details of the scheme, and I alone was in the position of giving it
+them. First of all, however, I made my terms with the Admiralty. They
+were these: When Zuker's plans were developed, they were at liberty to
+take what action they pleased to counteract those plans, and arrest any
+accomplice who might be engaged in work with Zuker, but I made this
+proviso, that no step should be taken to arrest Zuker himself, without
+my knowledge and sanction. Furthermore, that in return for the
+information I was able to furnish as to every detail of the plot, I was
+to be permitted in the last resort to warn Zuker, so that he might
+escape to his native country, if he cared to.
+
+"In that interview you overheard, I made my first strong appeal to him.
+Unfortunately it was not successful, and worse than that, he became
+suspicious of me. The death of dear little Hibbert took away the only
+link that bound me to Zuker. One or two of his confederates were
+arrested, and he himself became conscious that the net was closing round
+himself. Your appearance in his hiding-place must have brought that home
+to him. What happened after that I can only guess. I have two
+theories--the first, that, in escaping by the river, he might have taken
+refuge for a time on the old battleship, and was in hiding at the time
+when the fire broke out. The other theory is that, recognizing that his
+schemes had been a complete failure, he deliberately set fire to the
+ship, and perished in the flames. He who knows the motives as well as
+the actions of all men, will alone know which of these theories is the
+right one. God be merciful to him, as to me, miserable sinner."
+
+Mr. Weevil stood with bowed head. And as he breathed, thus reverently,
+the response he had so often heard, Paul felt his mother's hand stealing
+into his, as it had so often stolen into it in the village church in
+days gone by, when the good vicar read the Litany, and prayed for
+deliverance from "lightning and tempest, from plague, pestilence, and
+famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death." The man who had
+brought about "the sudden death" of his father, had ended his with
+tragic swiftness, and now stood before the Judge of all. The time for
+the last great trial had come for Israel Zuker.
+
+"Before Him--before the Judge of all men," said Mr. Weevil, at length
+breaking the silence, "I hope to justify myself for what I have done, as
+well as for what I have left undone, but in the meantime I shall never
+forget the part that you have played, Percival. It is true, profoundly
+true, that no good deed is ever lost. Your kindness to Hibbert will ever
+be a sacred memory to me. Good-night, Percival, and God bless you."
+
+"Good-night sir."
+
+And Paul, with his heart very full, turned from the room.
+
+When Paul went out, Mr. Weevil did not retire to rest. He was one of
+those men who require very little sleep. He unlocked a drawer in his
+desk, and took from it several loose sheets of paper, with entries on
+them. These he regarded closely for a moment or two, then leaned
+reflectively back in his chair, with eyes closed. Then he looked at the
+pages again, together with some memoranda jotted on a separate sheet of
+paper. His scrutiny ended, he put them back into the drawer, and locked
+them up again.
+
+Having done this, he took up a sheet of foolscap, on which was written,
+in the form of a petition, the resolution of the Fifth calling upon Mr.
+Weevil to expel Percival from Garside. To this petition were attached
+the names of the mover and seconder of the resolution--Stanley Moncrief
+and Parfitt--followed by the names of the other boys in the Form, with
+the exception of Waterman.
+
+Mr. Weevil had not yet answered this unusual petition, so he took up a
+pen and paper and wrote:
+
+"Mr. Weevil's compliments, and he will be pleased to meet the Fifth, and
+go into their petition to-morrow. As so delicate a matter cannot be
+discussed before the whole school, the form will return to the
+class-room, where the master will come to them at the end of the day's
+work. One last proviso, as it is the conduct of Percival which has been
+impugned, it will, of course, be necessary for him to be present at the
+inquiry, so that he may be heard in his own defence."
+
+This note he folded up, placed in an envelope, and directed to Hasluck,
+the head of the Form. The following morning it was delivered to Hasluck
+by Bax, the porter. Having read it, Hasluck passed it round the Form.
+Waterman was next to Percival. Instead of passing it to him, he just
+glanced at it and passed it back to Parfitt with a yawn.
+
+"Doesn't interest me. More in your line, Parfitt."
+
+Waterman, in this dexterous manner, escaped the painful duty of passing
+on a note for which he was in no way responsible.
+
+As he afterwards said, "he liked to see others troubling over their own
+underhand business."
+
+Parfitt bit his lip, then, without a word, handed it to Paul. Paul read
+it. He had no difficulty in understanding its meaning. Harry had told
+him about the meeting that had been held about him. This letter was the
+result of it.
+
+Adopting Parfitt's own tactics, he handed it back without a word, but he
+could not help stealing a glance at Stanley. His eyes were heavy, as
+though from want of sleep. He looked quite haggard and ill. He kept his
+eyes away from Paul, as though uncertain as to himself. He looked very
+miserable, and, indeed, he was even more miserable than he looked.
+
+At the close of school that day, the Fifth passed back to their
+class-room. Soon after, Mr. Weevil entered. He looked cold, stern,
+implacable--a different man from the one Paul had seen the previous
+night speaking in tremulous tones about Hibbert. Those little human
+traits seemed to have vanished with the night. He was no longer the man,
+but the judge.
+
+"Step forward, Percival," he said briefly.
+
+Paul stepped forward.
+
+"You know the charge against you?"
+
+"No, sir; I've come to hear."
+
+"The charge is in this petition," said the master, taking up the
+petition, which he unfolded and placed on the desk. "I needn't read it,
+but I can tell you briefly what the charge is. The charge is that you
+connived with the boys of a rival college--St. Bede's--to have the flag,
+which is held in so much honour and esteem here, stolen from the tower."
+
+"Yes, sir. Anything more?" asked Paul, as the master paused and glanced
+down at the petition.
+
+"The petition further alleges that having placed this dishonour on the
+school, you connived with the enemy to keep it by them till it suited
+your time and purpose, and that then you arranged for its return."
+
+"Time and purpose?" repeated Paul. "What purpose?"
+
+"What purpose?" repeated the master, glancing again at the petition. "It
+is clearly enough set forth. Listen. 'Percival had made enemies of his
+Form, and had looked for his friends at St. Bede's. His object in
+getting back the flag was to try to regain at one stroke some of his
+lost popularity.' Is that clear enough?"
+
+"Quite clear, sir. What followed?"
+
+"A resolution was moved and carried, with only one dissentient, that you
+should be expelled from the school."
+
+"Who--who moved the resolution?" asked Percival, with an effort.
+
+"Is it worth while my giving names?"
+
+"I would like to know, sir, if you would be kind enough."
+
+Mr. Weevil glanced at the names. He did not answer. The silence was
+broken by Stanley.
+
+"I moved the resolution, Percival--Paul!" he cried, in a voice that
+seemed to be choking him. "I did you an injustice before all the Form. I
+now ask your pardon before all the Form. I'm ashamed of myself--ashamed
+that I so degraded myself as to move that resolution. My eyes were shut.
+Now they're open. I've been groping about in the dark. Now I'm in the
+light. I was a fool ever to doubt you, but appearances were so against
+you. It was your turning away from Wyndham at the gravel-pits that so
+rankled in my mind, and--and your friendly meetings with him after. I
+did not know----"
+
+"Stop! Not quite so fast!" commanded Mr. Weevil. Stanley had poured out
+at a feverish rate the words that had been burning at his heart
+throughout the whole of the night and day. "Do I understand that you,
+Moncrief major, who proposed this resolution, now wish to withdraw it?"
+
+"Yes, sir; every word of it. I have wronged Percival--deeply wronged
+him, and before all the Form I ask his pardon."
+
+Paul's heart leapt with joy. He cared little what the others might
+think. Stanley had come round of his own accord. He had voluntarily
+asked his pardon. Paul grasped the hand stretched out to him.
+
+"I see that it was you, Parfitt, who seconded this resolution, asking
+that Percival should be expelled from the school. Is it your wish to
+withdraw also?" asked the master.
+
+"Certainly not," said Parfitt indignantly. "I'm not going to turn tail
+because Moncrief has. If Moncrief has sold me, I'm not going to sell all
+the other fellows who signed that petition."
+
+A murmur of approval came from "the other fellows," except Waterman. He
+greeted it with the customary yawn.
+
+"You still hold to your wish that Percival should be expelled from
+Garside?" asked Mr. Weevil.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You understand that expelling a scholar from Garside is a very serious
+matter. It is a grave stigma placed on him at the commencement of his
+career--a stigma which clings to him when he goes from school into the
+sterner battle of life. I'm bound to impress this upon you, Parfitt, so
+that you may understand the gravity of the step you wish me to take."
+
+"I understand, sir. We all understand."
+
+"And you decline to do what Moncrief has done--withdraw from the
+petition?"
+
+"Yes, sir. We can't stand Percival any longer."
+
+"Hear! hear!" from Newall.
+
+Suddenly, to the astonishment of the Form, the master opened the desk
+before him, and drew from it a book.
+
+"You know this book?" he demanded.
+
+Know it? They knew it but too well. It was the dreaded Black Book.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+FOUND OUT
+
+
+Why had the master produced the Black Book?
+
+What was it to do with the question whether Percival should or should
+not be expelled?
+
+"You are wondering why I produce the Black Book," said the master
+slowly, as though reading their thoughts. "I will explain--we have never
+yet discovered who tore out the leaves from this book. It occurred to me
+that before taking the step of expelling Percival from the school, it
+would be as well to make one more effort to find out who is the culprit.
+
+"A few weeks ago, I received an anonymous letter suggesting that
+Percival should be questioned as to what he was doing on the night that
+part of the Black Book, and other documents, disappeared from my desk.
+As a rule, I take no heed of anonymous communications. The testimony of
+any one who is ashamed to put his name to a letter is, as a rule,
+worthless. But I was keenly interested in trying to discover who the
+culprit was who opened my desk, and I thought it just possible that if I
+could only find out the writer of this anonymous letter, it might lead
+to other discoveries which would throw light upon the theft of my
+notes."
+
+The boys listened intently. What did it mean? Was yet another and more
+serious charge to be made against Percival?
+
+"The letter was in a disguised hand, like most anonymous letters," the
+master proceeded; "but a master becomes a bit of an expert in
+handwriting, so, with the help of Mr. Travers here, the master of your
+Form, I was not long in finding out who wrote the anonymous letter. It
+was written by Parfitt."
+
+The accusation was made slowly, deliberately, as by one who makes sure
+of his facts before speaking. It fell as a bomb in the midst of the
+listening boys. Parfitt turned to an ashen hue, and muttered something
+between his teeth.
+
+"Speak up, sir! Please not to mutter," commanded Mr. Weevil, turning to
+Parfitt. "Do you deny that this letter"--he held up the anonymous
+letter, with its cramped, disguised handwriting--"is the work of your
+hand?"
+
+Parfitt held up his head, and put on a bold front.
+
+"No, sir; I don't deny it. That letter was written by me. As there were
+other things coming out against Percival, I thought it only right that
+you should make some inquiry into what he was doing on the night when
+the pages were torn from the Black Book. I did not want to push myself
+forward. I thought the inquiry would be better made by you; but as no
+steps seem to have been taken to find out what Percival did, I don't see
+why I should keep back what I know any longer."
+
+"Well, what is it? What do you know? I am here to learn all I can."
+
+"Well, sir, on the night that the pages were torn from the Black Book, I
+saw Percival get out of bed, slip into some of his things, and out of
+the dormitory. I saw him steal along the corridor, for what purpose I
+couldn't guess. I made a pretty good guess the next day."
+
+"Your guess was that Percival opened my desk, and stole the papers?"
+
+"I believe he did, sir. For what else could he have stolen from the
+dormitory in the dead of night?"
+
+"Well, but what could be his purpose? Can you explain that?"
+
+"Oh, that's easy enough explained. There were entries against himself
+and his friend Moncrief in the book. A serious one had been made against
+Moncrief that very afternoon, for which, you will remember, sir, he was
+sent to Dormitory X."
+
+"I remember--quite well," said the master. "Well, Percival, what have
+you to say against this last charge?"
+
+"Only that it is as false as the other."
+
+"Did you leave your dormitory that night?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I don't deny that. I did leave my room, but not to steal. I
+left it to go to Moncrief in Dormitory X. I thought the punishment too
+severe, sir, if you'll pardon me for saying so, so I thought that I
+would keep him company. It was wrong of me, I know; but I did not give
+it much thought at the time."
+
+"And I can confirm every word that Percival has said!" exclaimed
+Stanley. "He came to me that night--to Dormitory X."
+
+"Pshaw!" cried Newall, taking up Parfitt's case. "How could he get to
+you through the locked door?"
+
+"He didn't get through the door. He came along the parapet, and got
+through the dormer window."
+
+Blank amazement fell on the group.
+
+"It's all very well to say that. Any one could say that," cried Parfitt;
+"but we want something better than that. We want proof!"
+
+"If you won't take Moncrief's word, I think I can prove it by Mr.
+Weevil," said Paul, turning to the master. "As I passed by the window of
+your room, sir, I took the liberty of peeping in. I saw you discussing
+some plans with a friend. Perhaps you can recall it, sir?"
+
+Mr. Weevil's mind had gone back to that night. He knew well enough to
+whom Paul was referring thus delicately as his friend--Zuker.
+
+"Percival is right in every particular, but"--he broke off, as though
+suddenly recalling something--"there is one thing I ought to say.
+Fancying I heard a noise in Dormitory X that night, I paid it a visit,
+but found nobody there, except Moncrief, and he seemed fast asleep."
+
+Parfitt, who had been looking glum, brightened up at this again.
+
+"Seemed, sir," repeated Stanley, with a smile; "but I was just about as
+wide awake as I am now, and Percival was--under the bed."
+
+There was a titter of laughter at this piece of information. The ghost
+of a smile played across the stern face of Mr. Weevil.
+
+"I think Percival has made it perfectly clear as to where he was that
+night. You see that he is perfectly innocent of the charge brought
+against him by Parfitt; so we are thrown back into precisely the
+position we were in before. We have still to find out who is the real
+culprit--who it was opened my desk that night. As Parfitt has failed in
+his purpose, let us put our heads together and see if we can get a
+little nearer the truth. I will try to reconstruct the case for you, as
+the French say. Who was the culprit? What was his motive? His motive was
+to get possession of certain pieces of paper in my desk which gave
+valuable information for a prize competition which was taking place
+amongst the seniors--the prize, that is to say, to be given by Admiral
+Talbot for the best essay on 'The Invasion of Great Britain.' He did not
+want the Black Book. That would give him no assistance in his essay; but
+what he wanted was to throw suspicion on a certain boy--also a
+competitor for the prize--who was absent from his dormitory that night.
+He did this by removing the leaf, amongst others, which referred to the
+boy himself and the detention of his friend in the Punishment Dormitory.
+Am I clear?"
+
+The Form were following Mr. Weevil so closely that they could only
+murmur an assent.
+
+"I have told you about the anonymous letter," continued Mr. Weevil, "and
+the conclusion I had arrived at by the help of Mr. Travers. You have
+seen that that conclusion is correct, for Parfitt has himself admitted
+it. So much is clear. Now follow me a little farther. Not long after
+receiving this anonymous letter, some of the competitors began to send
+in their essays for the Talbot prize. Among others was one from
+Parfitt."
+
+A profound silence fell on the room as the master once more pronounced
+that name. Every eye was turned to Parfitt, who was still doing his best
+to put on a bold face.
+
+"It was a remarkably clever piece of work and would assuredly have won
+the prize. It was too clever, in fact. It contained information which
+astonished me--information which could not be obtained from the school
+library. It was information, in fact, such as I myself had obtained
+after special research, and which had been embodied in the notes that
+had been stolen from my desk."
+
+"You mean to say that I am the thief--that I stole your notes!"
+blustered Parfitt.
+
+"Silence, sir!" came the stern voice of the master. "Have the courtesy
+to hear me to the end. I have but little more to add, and then I shall
+be only too pleased to hear anything you may have to say in your
+defence. The way in which the information was used was so ingenious that
+it would have been quite impossible to declare that the writer of this
+essay was the culprit. I was quite certain of it in my own mind, but it
+needed additional proof. How to get it was the next point. In
+consultation with Mr. Travers here, a speedy decision was come to. It
+was of the utmost importance that the innocent should be cleared; the
+guilty punished. A locksmith was called in on the next half-holiday.
+Parfitt's box was opened, its contents examined. At the bottom we
+discovered the missing notes. The pages from the Black Book, as being
+useless, had been destroyed. The same fate would doubtless have followed
+my notes, so soon as the result of the competition was known. I took the
+notes from the box. A facsimile was put in their place. Here are the
+originals."
+
+He held up the notes. All heads were eagerly craned forward to look at
+them.
+
+"These are the originals," repeated the master, when the sensation
+caused by their production had abated. "I doubt not the facsimiles to
+which I have referred will still be found in Parfitt's box. What I
+suggest, therefore, is that he hand over his key to Hasluck, the head of
+this Form, that the porter should then bring the box to this room, and
+that it be opened in the presence of all of you. We shall then see if
+the facsimiles are still there."
+
+Not a word fell from Parfitt's lips in answer to this appeal. At that
+moment he was passing through one of the most terrible ordeals a boy can
+pass through. The silence in the room became painful.
+
+"I hope it won't be needful to call in the locksmith again, Parfitt,"
+said the master. Then in a burst of agony came from the wretched boy's
+lips:
+
+"You needn't open the box. I--I did it."
+
+He dropped to the form, and covered his ashen face with his hands. Then
+came the master's voice again, with the solemnity of a judge pronouncing
+sentence:
+
+"I did not wish to go through this ignominy, Parfitt, before the whole
+school. That is the reason I confined the inquiry to your Form and this
+room. Everything has been done to spare your feelings, though I cannot
+help saying that you do not seem to have cared very much for the
+feelings of others. I am sorry to say that the sentence you wished
+passed on Percival must be passed on yourself. You can no longer remain
+a scholar at Garside."
+
+Parfitt knew well enough what that meant--it was a sentence of
+expulsion. He staggered to his feet, and was about to pass out without a
+word, when the voice of Paul brought him to a standstill.
+
+"I do not mind what has been said against me--indeed, I don't!"
+exclaimed Paul; "we've all made mistakes; so please don't go so far with
+Parfitt. Don't expel him. Give him another chance!"
+
+Parfitt could scarcely believe his ears. The boy whom he had sought to
+expel was taking his part--pleading that he might remain.
+
+"It is generous of you to plead for him, but after what has happened,
+how is it possible for him to remain?" said the master.
+
+Paul scarcely knew how to answer; but as he stood nonplussed a mist rose
+in the room, and as the mist cleared he saw a garden, with a
+delicate-faced boy, lying in an invalid chair, as though asleep. A
+little wren had perched itself upon his shoulder.
+
+"Let him stay for--for Hibbert's sake," came in a gulp.
+
+The master turned his head for a moment. When he once more faced the
+boys, the hard light had vanished from the blinking eyes, and a softer
+light shone there.
+
+"What has happened has not gone beyond this room. The facts, so far,
+have not been disclosed to the whole school," he said. "It may not,
+perhaps, be necessary. I will see what can be done in consultation with
+my colleagues. I trust it may be possible for us to respond to
+Percival's generous appeal. Attention! Half-turn! March!"
+
+And the boys filed slowly from the class-room.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Vacation at last!
+
+To Paul the term through which he had passed was the most memorable in
+his school life, as it was, perhaps, the most memorable in the history
+of the school. He spent a week with the good mother whom he loved, and
+who so loved him. He sat again in the old church with her, and heard
+again the vicar's fervent voice in the Litany:
+
+"From lightning and tempest; from plague, pestilence, and famine; from
+battle and murder, and from sudden death."
+
+In the days gone by he used to wonder how it was that his mother's hand
+used to tremble in his when those solemn words echoed in the church. Now
+he understood, as he knelt once more by her dear side--none better. The
+last term at Garside had taught him a lesson which would never be erased
+from his mind so long as life lasted.
+
+At the end of the week he went to Redmead, in response to the invitation
+which Mr. Walter Moncrief had sent him in that letter to Garside which
+had caused him such heart-burning. Stanley was there to meet him. The
+old friendship between them was resumed. The clouds had passed away,
+leaving them the better, the stronger--they were once more in the
+sunshine.
+
+Mr. Moncrief had learnt all that had happened at Garside. Harry
+entertained them at tea-time with his and Plunger's adventures as
+members of the Mystic Order of Beetles, and his sister nearly had a fit
+of apoplexy as he described Plunger crawling on hands and knees round
+the ring while the Mystic Brethren proceeded to initiate him as "a
+brother."
+
+Stanley was the only one who was not infected with Connie's mirth. He
+remained so serious amid the general merriment that Harry suddenly
+brought down his hand upon his shoulder and in a tragic voice declaimed
+the incantation which had made so remarkable an impression upon Plunger:
+
+    "Beetles of the Mystic Band,
+    Wind we round thee hand in hand,"
+
+and so on.
+
+"No, we're not going to send Stan to the Realms of Creepy-Crawley,"
+smiled Connie, putting her arm through her cousin's with an air of
+possession as Harry ended:
+
+"We don't mind Mr. Plunger going there. He'd be quite at home; but not
+Stan."
+
+Stanley smiled, but soon relapsed into his former gravity.
+
+"A penny for your thoughts, Stan!" said Mrs. Moncrief.
+
+"Oh, I was only thinking of one of the Beetles--Wyndham. I was wondering
+whether we should see anything of him during the vac."
+
+"Would you like to meet him?" asked Mr. Moncrief.
+
+"Very much."
+
+Paul said nothing; but he felt a keen sense of gratification at the
+words that fell from Stanley. It showed that all animosity towards
+Wyndham had completely vanished, and that he was anxious to meet him
+again, not as an enemy, but on a footing of friendship.
+
+Mr. Moncrief was absent for a good part of the next day. On the day
+following he announced that he was going to take them for a drive in the
+wagonette. They were, of course, anxious to know where.
+
+"Well, Harry has asked me once or twice whether we couldn't travel over
+some of the ground over which Paul travelled on the night when he broke
+in upon us here at the end of his last vacation. I think this is the
+most favourable opportunity we shall have to carry out his suggestion,
+if you're all agreeable."
+
+Of course they were agreeable. So, early the next morning, the wagonette
+came to the door, and the little party, in the best of spirits, started
+on the drive.
+
+No contrast could have been greater than the contrast between that
+morning of bright sunshine and the night when Paul started from Redmead
+with Mr. Moncrief. On that never-to-be-forgotten night danger seemed to
+be lurking in every hedgerow. The shadows lay thickly across their
+pathway, and the sight of home had never been so dear to Paul as when he
+at length came in sight of it that night. How different it all seemed in
+the bright sunshine!
+
+By an indirect route they came to the common over which Paul had ridden
+on Falcon. They stopped at the spot where Zuker and his confederate had
+seized Falcon's bridle. Then they turned back, and paused once more
+where the brave horse had staggered and fallen. Paul had not seen the
+place since, and as they reached it, he lived once again through the
+incidents of those few terrible moments when the life-blood of Falcon
+was slowly oozing away. He could see it lying there; he could see the
+crimson stream running from its flank, the look of pathos in its eyes as
+it turned to him.
+
+"I think we will drive on," said Mr. Moncrief gently. "We owe a good
+deal to Falcon, so I mean to have a little memorial to his memory some
+day--to the memory of a noble horse. There are some animals, it seems to
+me, who are as much entitled to it as human beings."
+
+A great surprise was in store for them when they reached the well down
+which Paul had hidden from his pursuers. Wyndham was standing there,
+just as he had stood on the night when he had covered Paul's retreat!
+
+Then it turned out that Mr. Moncrief had arranged this little surprise
+on the previous day; that he had visited Wyndham, and appointed to meet
+him at the well. To the delight of the boys, the arrangement went still
+further--Wyndham was to return with them, and spend a few days at
+Redmead.
+
+Stanley was one of the first to give him a hearty greeting.
+
+"You must be my friend as well as Paul's," he said earnestly, as he
+shook him by the hand.
+
+"There's no one, I suppose, who would like to repeat Paul's experience
+in the well?" smiled Mr. Moncrief, when the excitement of the meeting
+had cooled down.
+
+The invitation, it is unnecessary to say, was "declined with thanks."
+
+The happy party returned to Redmead. When the evening came on, the
+blinds drawn, the lamps lit, and the friends were all together, Paul
+could not help thinking there was just one thing missing to complete the
+day's experience.
+
+"When I came here that night and listened at the door, you were
+singing," he said.
+
+"Singing what?" asked Mrs. Moncrief.
+
+"'Now the day is over.'"
+
+"Happy thought! Let us have it again!" exclaimed Mr. Moncrief.
+
+Mrs. Moncrief went to the piano, and heartily they sang:
+
+    "Now the day is over,
+      Night is drawing nigh,
+    Shadows of the evening
+      Steal across the sky.
+
+    Through the long night watches,
+      May Thine angels spread
+    Their white wings above me,
+      Watching round my bed."
+
+Of a surety that fervent appeal had been answered. God had indeed
+guarded the boys through the "long night watches" at school, and through
+much trial and temptation had brought them safely together under the
+same hospitable roof.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+A SERIES OF EXCELLENT STORIES
+
+
+Full of incident and adventure, which will be read with keen interest
+and enjoyment.
+
+_Each with a distinctive Coloured Jacket, Coloured Frontispiece and
+other Illustrations. In Large Crown 8vo, cloth gilt._
+
+
+"HONOUR BRIGHT" (David Chester's Motto) _By H. ESCOTT-INMAN_
+
+THE SECOND FORM MASTER OF ST. CYRIL'S _By H. ESCOTT-INMAN_
+
+LOYAL AND TRUE _By M. B. MANWELL_
+
+THE BOYS OF MONK'S HAROLD _By J. HARWOOD PANTING_
+
+CLIVE OF CLAIR COLLEGE _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
+
+THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
+
+THE TWO RUNAWAYS _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
+
+AN UPHILL GAME _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
+
+    PUBLISHED BY
+    FREDERICK WARNE & CO., LTD.
+    LONDON AND NEW YORK
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL***
+
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Hero of Garside School, by J. Harwood
+Panting</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Hero of Garside School</p>
+<p>Author: J. Harwood Panting</p>
+<p>Release Date: August 22, 2008  [eBook #26392]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau, Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL</h1>
+
+<h2>By J. HARWOOD PANTING</h2>
+
+<h3><i>Author of "Clive of Clair College," "The Two Runaways," etc.</i></h3>
+
+<h3>WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+<h4>LONDON<br />
+FREDERICK WARNE &amp; CO., LTD.<br />
+AND NEW YORK<br />
+(<i>All rights reserved</i>)</h4>
+
+
+<h4><i>PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN</i></h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a>
+<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Falcon was dead.... To make good his escape, no time must be lost.</span></h3>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<p>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">The Mother's Prayer</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">The Message</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">The Cry of the Psalmist</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">Shadows of the Evening</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">The Little Hunchback</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">Harry Moncrief Arrives at Garside</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">A Bad Commencement for the Term</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">For the Sake of a Chum</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">Good Advice</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">Torn from the Black Book</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">For the Honour of the Form</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">The Forum</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. <span class="smcap">A Challenge from St. Bede's</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">The Champion of his Form</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">What Happened at the Sand-pit</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">"He might have been a Leper"</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">The "Gargoyle Record"</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">Paul Writes a Letter</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">The School of Adversity</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. <span class="smcap">Wyndham again to the Rescue</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. <span class="smcap">The Chasm Widens</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII. <span class="smcap">Hatching a Plot, and what came of It</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII. <span class="smcap">The Last Bond of Friendship</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV. <span class="smcap">The Raft on the River</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV. <span class="smcap">On a Voyage of Adventure</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI. <span class="smcap">What Happened on the Raft</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII. <span class="smcap">The Old Flag</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII. <span class="smcap">Hibbert Asks Strange Questions</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX. <span class="smcap">An Unexpected Visitor Arrives at Garside</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX. <span class="smcap">Hibbert finishes his Story</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI. <span class="smcap">A Mysterious Disappearance</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII. <span class="smcap">How the Old Flag was taken from Garside</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII. <span class="smcap">Friend and Foe</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV. <span class="smcap">The Mystic Order of Beetles</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV. <span class="smcap">A Remarkable Discovery</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI. <span class="smcap">The "Fox-hole"</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII. <span class="smcap">The Letters at the Tuck-Shop</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII. <span class="smcap">"Forgive, and Ye shall be Forgiven"</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">CHAPTER XXXIX. <span class="smcap">The Missing Flag</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XL">CHAPTER XL. <span class="smcap">How the Flag found its Way back to the Turret</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">CHAPTER XLI. <span class="smcap">Friends in Council</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">CHAPTER XLII. <span class="smcap">Unexpected Tidings</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">CHAPTER XLIII. <span class="smcap">The Storm Breaks</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">CHAPTER XLIV, <span class="smcap">In the Garden</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">CHAPTER XLV. <span class="smcap">How the Vote was Carried</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">CHAPTER XLVI. <span class="smcap">Waterman does a Strange Thing</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">CHAPTER XLVII. <span class="smcap">In the Fox's Hole</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">CHAPTER XLVIII. <span class="smcap">The Burning Ship</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">CHAPTER XLIX</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_L">CHAPTER L. <span class="smcap">The Petition&mdash;What befell it</span></a><br /><br />
+<a href="#A_SERIES_OF_EXCELLENT_STORIES">A SERIES OF EXCELLENT STORIES</a><br />
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+<p><a href="#illus1"><span class="smcap">Falcon was dead.... To make good his escape, no time must be lost.</span></a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#illus2">"'<span class="smcap">I am Mr. Moncrief,' said that gentleman, stepping forward</span>."</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#illus3">"<span class="smcap">As ill-luck would have it, Hibbert ran full tilt against Mr. Weevil,
+just as he reached the outer door.</span>"</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#illus4">"<span class="smcap">Slightly raising himself from his position on the roof, Crick lifted
+the flagstaff from its socket, and drew it quickly beneath the
+trap-door.</span>"</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#illus5">"<span class="smcap">The boy was kneeling beside him,&mdash;it was Moncrief minor.... 'Are you
+all right?' came in a whisper from the boy.</span>"</a></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MOTHER'S PRAYER</h3>
+
+
+<p>"God grant that it may never happen, Paul; God grant that England may
+never be invaded, that her foes may never land upon our shores."</p>
+
+<p>And the lips of Mrs. Percival moved in silent prayer. Paul regarded the
+loved face of his mother for a minute or two thoughtfully, as though he
+were longing to put to her many questions, but dared not. At length he
+said, breaking the silence:</p>
+
+<p>"Did father ever speak of it?"</p>
+
+<p>It was one of the greatest griefs of Paul's life that he had never known
+his father. He had been a captain in the Navy, but was unfortunately cut
+off in the prime of his career by a brave attempt to save the life of a
+man who had flung himself overboard. The man was saved, but Captain
+Percival was drowned, leaving a widow and son to lament his loss. Paul
+at that time was only a year old, so that it was not till the years went
+on he understood the greatness of his loss. Often and often his thoughts
+turned to the father who had been snatched from him by a sudden and
+untimely death, especially when he saw the boys of his school who were
+fortunate enough to possess both parents; but often as his thoughts went
+to his father, he rarely spoke of him to his mother. He could see that
+the pain and sorrow of his death were still with her&mdash;that the awful
+moment when the news came of that sudden, swift catastrophe had written
+itself upon her heart and memory in writing which would never be
+effaced.</p>
+
+<p>Paul did not find out all that he had become to his mother till some
+time after his father's death&mdash;not, in fact, till his first term at
+school had ended. He had never been away from home so long before, and
+he never forgot how she pressed him to her, and with what tender
+earnestness she said, "Ah, dear, you do not know how I have missed you."</p>
+
+<p>That same night, when she had thought him fast asleep, she entered his
+room, looked long and earnestly in his face by the light of a candle,
+and then stole gently out. And that Sunday, when he went to the old
+church with her, he felt her hand steal into his as the vicar read the
+Litany; and the pressure of her hand waxed closer as the vicar's voice
+sounded through the church: "From lightning and tempest; from plague,
+pestilence, and famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death."
+Then rose the fervent response from the congregation, "Good Lord,
+deliver us." And none prayed it more fervently than the widow as she
+knelt by the side of her son.</p>
+
+<p>It was not only that Mrs. Percival had lost her husband at sea, but she
+had lost a brother, a promising young lieutenant in the Navy, while on
+active service in China; and Paul's grandfather had lost his life many
+years back while fighting under Nelson at Copenhagen. It is little to be
+wondered at, therefore, that Mrs. Percival rarely spoke about the sea to
+Paul. She feared its fascination; she was anxious to keep his thoughts
+from it. He was all that was now left to her, and she had no wish that
+he should go into the service in which the lives of three near and dear
+relatives had been sacrificed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, your father sometimes spoke of it," Mrs. Percival answered. "His
+father&mdash;that is to say, your grandfather&mdash;lived in the time when there
+was such a great scare about wicked Napoleon invading England; but that
+is long ago, and it was all ended by Nelson's last great victory at
+Trafalgar. Ah, Paul, these scares and wars are terrible. I sometimes
+think that it must be monsters ruling the world rather than men. If the
+prayers of mothers and wives and orphans could only be heard, I am sure
+that war, and the danger of war, would soon be over. But why are you
+worrying about an invasion?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Great Britain has a good many enemies, you know, mother, and
+people are talking about a possible invasion. Besides, I've got to write
+something about it next term, and it won't do for the son of a captain
+to make a mess of it altogether."</p>
+
+<p>"Write something?" questioned Mrs. Percival, turning pale. Ah, the
+terrible fascination of the sea! Was it going to claim her son as it had
+claimed her husband? "How is that?"</p>
+
+<p>"A prize has been offered for the best paper on 'The Invasion of Great
+Britain.' I may as well have a cut in."</p>
+
+<p>"By all means, Paul; but for my sake&mdash;for my sake"&mdash;placing her hand
+upon his shoulder&mdash;"don't think too much about the sea."</p>
+
+<p>She leant forward and kissed him; then went hurriedly from the room.
+Paul knew that it was his duty to do as his mother told him, but he
+found it very hard. He was a stalwart lad of fifteen, with the blood of
+two generations of seamen in his veins, so that it seemed as though his
+very blood were part of the brine of the ocean.</p>
+
+<p>He stood by the window, looking from the old Manor House in which he
+lived to the road. Presently he saw Job Brice, who did odd jobs about
+the house and garden, walking across the grounds to the paddock. Job had
+been a seaman in the Navy at the same time as his father, and for that
+reason had been given employment, to add to his pension, at the Manor
+House; but he rarely spoke about his seafaring life to our hero. Paul
+suspected that this, in a large measure, was due to his mother, for
+whenever Job did speak, he always dwelt on the most unattractive side of
+a sailor's life.</p>
+
+<p>So soon as Paul caught sight of Job, he seized his cap, and went after
+him. He came up with him just as he had entered the paddock.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Brice, I've just been talking to mother about father. I don't
+like to question her too much, for I can see it gives her pain."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right, Master Paul; it does give her pain," said Job, turning his
+scarred, weather-beaten face to the boy; "and it's very good of you to
+think of her. It ain't all boys who're so thoughtful of their mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't butter me, Brice, for I'm long chalks from deserving it. But
+perhaps you wouldn't mind answering me a question I could never quite
+make out. I've heard that father died in saving another man. And that is
+all I do know, for mother never speaks of it, and I can't keep boring
+her with questions. How did it happen?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, no one knows exactly. So far as could be made out, some
+pirate&mdash;some furrin sneak&mdash;got into his cabin while we were in port, and
+got at his private despatches. He was imprisoned in the hold by the
+captain's orders. The next day we were to make for Gibraltar, where the
+spy was to be tried by court-martial. The next night was a dirty one&mdash;no
+rain to speak of, but dark and blustery. While it was at its height, the
+prisoner in the hold managed to escape, and jumped overboard. Your
+father was one of the first to see him, and leapt after him. He reached
+the poor wretch and held him till the boat put out; then a fiercer gust
+of wind came, and they were separated. The spy was swept in the
+direction of the boat. Your father was swept away from it. The spy was
+caught up and dragged into it. Your father was never seen again. He'd
+saved the spy's life at the expense of his own. There wasn't a man on
+board the ship but esteemed&mdash;yes, loved your father. He was one of the
+best skippers that ever walked a deck. What we felt afterwards, Master
+Paul, can't be described. We felt just sick that he'd gone, and that
+that sneaking, shivering furrin rascal had been saved. Some of the boys
+would ha' lynched him, I think, only that he looked purty sick at that
+time hisself, and they knew a court-martial was awaitin' him at
+Gibraltar. Well, he were taken to Gib."</p>
+
+<p>"And what happened?" asked the lad, as the old salt paused.</p>
+
+<p>"What happened? Why, he got clean off!" cried the old salt indignantly.
+"There was little or no evidence agen him. The one who knew all about
+him, and what he'd been up to, was your father, and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Job Brice came to a dead stop as the back of his big, rough hand went
+across his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"My father had gone to the bottom! Yes, yes, I understand it all!" said
+Paul in a choking voice. "So they were obliged to release the man, and
+he got off scot-free?"</p>
+
+<p>"You've just guessed it, Master Paul! It makes me blood boil when I
+think of it!"</p>
+
+<p>Then he ended up, as he always did: "Ah, it's a dog's life, is the sea!
+Don't you ever think of the sea, Master Paul!"</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew from what quarter the final moral, with which Job invariably
+favoured him, came. Usually he smiled; but there was no smile on his
+face now. He could understand his mother's feelings as he had never
+understood them before. He could understand why she so rarely spoke of
+that time&mdash;why she never referred to his father's death.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't remember the man's name, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I can't remember that," answered Job, rubbing his head
+thoughtfully, "'cept that it was a foreign one&mdash;Zuker, I think it was,
+or some such name as that. Don't think no more about it. Thinking about
+it don't do no good."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor, poor father!" said Paul, as he turned once more towards the
+house. "He must have been a brave man. Oh, that I could have seen him,
+and known him, so that I might be able to remember him as he was in
+life, instead of carrying about a dead image in my heart!"</p>
+
+<p>Still, it was a comfort to know that his father had been loved by those
+under him&mdash;that he had died a brave death. Better, far better, to die a
+brave death than to live on in shame and infamy, as the man had probably
+lived whom his father had saved.</p>
+
+<p>And yet this mean, despicable spy might have turned over a new leaf from
+the day his father had sacrificed his life to save him. He might have
+begun a new and nobler life. If so, the sacrifice had not been in vain.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MESSAGE</h3>
+
+
+<p>The long autumn holiday was drawing to a close. In a couple of days'
+time Paul would be back again at the old school&mdash;back again at Garside
+House. He had had a pretty good time during the "vac.," but, none the
+less, he should not be sorry to meet again the fellows of his Form.
+School wasn't such a bad place, after all.</p>
+
+<p>"Fact, if it wasn't for that wretched science master, Weevil&mdash;why wasn't
+he christened Weazel?&mdash;one might put up with a lot of it. Don't know how
+it is, but he always puts my back up."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was returning home across the fields, and had just alighted over a
+five-barred gate into a lane which wound round the side of the Manor
+House into the main road, when he was arrested by a cry of distress.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo! What's that? Some one down? My&mdash;down it is!"</p>
+
+<p>A horseman had come a cropper a little distance down the lane. Paul
+immediately ran to his assistance.</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong, sir? A tumble?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; Falcon slipped, and before I quite knew where I was I was out of
+the saddle. But I don't think I'm hurt very much."</p>
+
+<p>Paul extended a hand to the fallen rider. He grasped it, and tried to
+rise; a spasm of pain crossed his face.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid that you are hurt, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"A little more than I thought," said the gentleman, as he leaned against
+the saddle. "Poor old Falcon," patting the horse, "don't look so
+grieved. It wasn't so much your fault as my carelessness."</p>
+
+<p>Then the caressing movement of the hand ceased, and he stood listening
+as one who fears pursuit. He tried to mount to the saddle, but failed.</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven help me!" he murmured. And then, as though Heaven had inspired
+him, he turned to Paul suddenly with a hopeful light in his eye: "Can
+you ride, my lad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather! I learnt to ride almost as soon as I could walk," smiled Paul.</p>
+
+<p>It was no empty boast. Paul had been taught riding at a very early age,
+and was as much at home in the saddle as on his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"I seem to have sprained my leg, and it is getting more painful every
+moment. I've got a message of the utmost importance that must reach
+Redmead to-night. You know Redmead?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you take a message for me? I ask it as a great favour, my lad."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with great earnestness, and waited eagerly for Paul's answer.
+Paul did not at once respond. Redmead was seven miles distant; it was
+getting dusk; the journey to Redmead and back would take him close upon
+two hours; his mother would wonder at his absence.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't refuse me, lad. You don't know what it means to me, and
+others."</p>
+
+<p>Paul liked the stranger's face. He was a man of about thirty-seven or
+thirty-eight, with clear, honest eyes, and an open, gentlemanly bearing.
+It was plain that the business on which he wished Paul to go was
+important. The boy's sympathies were with him, but still he hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Whereabouts in Redmead?"</p>
+
+<p>"To Oakville, the house of Mr. Moncrief."</p>
+
+<p>"Moncrief!" cried Paul. "I've a chum at school named Moncrief&mdash;Stanley
+Moncrief."</p>
+
+<p>"He's my son. The gentleman living at Redmead is Stanley's uncle. What
+is your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Percival."</p>
+
+<p>"I've often heard my boy speak of you. Glad to make your acquaintance,
+though I wish our introduction had taken place under happier
+circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>His chum's father! Paul was all aglow. He hesitated no longer.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me your message, sir. I shall only be too pleased to do anything
+for Stan's father."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Moncrief wrote rapidly on a sheet from his pocket-book:</p>
+
+<p>"Enclosed fragments have come to hand. It is a letter from Zuker, the
+German Jew, who is in England. Take care. Be on guard!"</p>
+
+<p>When he had finished this brief note, Mr. Moncrief took from his
+pocket-book several fragments of torn paper, bearing on them, as it
+appeared to Paul, mysterious hieroglyphics. He put these inside an
+envelope together with the note he had written. Then he sealed it down
+and handed it to Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"You are my boy's chum, I feel that I can trust you. Give this to my
+brother, Mr. Walter Moncrief&mdash;in no one else's hands. I cannot tell you
+how much may depend upon those pieces of paper reaching him. You will
+not part with them whatever happens?"</p>
+
+<p>"God helping me," said Paul, impressed with the earnestness of Mr.
+Moncrief's words and manner. "There is my house, sir"&mdash;pointing to the
+Manor House. "You will find rest there, and perhaps you wouldn't mind
+telling my mother where I've gone."</p>
+
+<p>Paul mounted to the saddle. Falcon, as though anxious to resume its
+journey, sped along the lane into the open road. Though it was getting
+dusk, it mattered little to Paul, for he was well acquainted with every
+inch of the country for miles around. He could not help thinking of the
+strangeness of the adventure.</p>
+
+<p>"Stan's father&mdash;only fancy! I'm glad that I was able to help him and
+take his message. Shan't I have something to tell old Stan when I get
+back to school!"</p>
+
+<p>Then he began to wonder what the torn fragments of paper, with the
+hieroglyphics on them, could mean, and what could be the message of
+which he was the bearer. Had he seen it, his wonder would assuredly have
+grown.</p>
+
+<p>The cool breeze of evening fell upon his face. The shadows began to
+lengthen. The leaves rustled beneath Falcon's feet. It was a noble,
+intelligent horse, and seemed as conscious of the importance of the
+message upon which it was going as Paul himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Good horse&mdash;good Falcon!" cried Paul, stroking its neck. "I wouldn't
+mind a horse like you. I wonder how many times Stan has ridden you."</p>
+
+<p>By this time they had reached an open common. It had been a perilous
+place to ride over in years gone by, when robbers abounded, but those
+days had gone, and no thought of danger occurred to Paul as he reached
+it. There were two ways of going to his destination&mdash;one was by taking
+the road by the side of the common and skirting it, the other, by the
+more solitary but nearer road across it. Paul selected the latter,
+urging his horse to a gallop as he did so. Falcon immediately responded
+to the call of its young rider, and soon they were speeding across the
+common.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the other side the road leading to Redmead stretched
+before them. It had grown suddenly darker. The road was bounded on
+either side by hedges, and the branches of trees interlaced each other
+in an arch-way overhead. Whether from the sudden darkness or that he had
+scented some hidden danger, Falcon slackened speed.</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong, Falcon?" cried Paul. "Get on&mdash;the sooner our journey's
+ended, the sooner you'll have your supper. Now, then, old boy."</p>
+
+<p>The horse was about to speed forward again, but scarcely were the words
+from Paul's lips than a man sprang from the hedge and seized the bridle.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop!" came a sharp, decisive voice, with a foreign accent, "Stop!"</p>
+
+<p>Paul just caught a glimpse of the man's face in the half light. The
+cheekbones were somewhat high, but narrowed down sharply at the chin. He
+wore eyeglasses on the eyes, which seemed to Paul, in that swift glance
+he caught of them, of a steely blue. He had a thick, military moustache,
+drawn out to fierce points; but his chin was clean-shaven. Directly he
+stopped the horse, a second man sprang to the other side of it. Paul
+immediately concluded they were robbers.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want? I've got no money&mdash;at least, only a few coppers.
+You're welcome to those, if you'll only let me ride on."</p>
+
+<p>"We're not robbers," said the first man, who seemed to be the master of
+the two, "and, therefore, we don't want your coppers. We've got one or
+two questions to put to you. If you'll only answer them civilly, we'll
+let you go your way. If you don't answer them&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off with a shrug of the shoulders to indicate the terrible fate
+which might await the boy in the event of his declining to answer the
+questions put to him.</p>
+
+<p>"You're riding Mr. Moncrief's horse, Falcon?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul wondered who the man was, and how he had come by his information.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's right. What of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"How is it you are riding Falcon instead of Mr. Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul did not at once answer. He wondered whether by answering he would
+be doing wrong. Yet what wrong could he do by speaking the truth. Paul
+was an honest boy&mdash;as honest as the day&mdash;and detested falsehood of any
+kind.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Moncrief met with an accident&mdash;that's why," he answered doggedly.</p>
+
+<p>"An accident"&mdash;the stranger exchanged glances with the other man.
+"That's the reason he's been left behind, is it? You've come in his
+stead&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul nodded. He felt somehow that he was giving Mr. Moncrief away, but
+he could not help himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought so. You're going to Mr. Walter Moncrief, his brother&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul remained silent. He felt that he had said too much already.</p>
+
+<p>"Tongue-tied&mdash;eh? Well, I won't trouble you to answer, for I know well
+enough my information's right. All you need do is just to hand over to
+me the packet you're taking to Mr. Walter Moncrief. I'll take care of
+it."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger's information was only too accurate; Paul marvelled at its
+accuracy; but nevertheless Mr. Moncrief's words, "I feel that I can
+trust you. You will not part with the letter, whatever happens," came to
+him, and he determined not to give up the packet without a struggle.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not deaf as well as tongue-tied&mdash;eh? Quick! quick! hand over
+the packet," came the imperious voice of the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>Paul saw that he was in a desperate situation&mdash;one from which it would
+only be possible to extricate himself by strategy. He put his hand to
+the inner pocket where the packet lay, and drew it a little way from his
+pocket. This movement disarmed the man who held the bridle. He slackened
+his hold. As he did so Paul brought down his riding-whip&mdash;or, rather,
+Mr. Moncrief's riding-whip&mdash;sharply on the other man's face.</p>
+
+<p>With a cry of mingled rage and pain the man dropped the bridle.</p>
+
+<p>"Good Falcon&mdash;good. Now!" cried Paul, urging the horse forward.</p>
+
+<p>The second man made a lunge at the horse. Falcon, as though fully alive
+to the need of getting away, bounded forward like a dart along the road.
+It went forward at a breakneck speed, quivering in every limb, as though
+feverishly anxious to place as great a distance as possible between Paul
+and his pursuers.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God, thank God!" Paul murmured, overjoyed at their escape. "What
+a noble horse it is. That man is a foreigner, I'm sure of it&mdash;one who
+would stop at nothing to gain his ends. Who is he, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>If Paul had only known! But all was dark to him, as dark as the road
+along which he was speeding. Only one thing was clear&mdash;that these men
+were the enemies of Mr. Moncrief; that they were anxious to get from him
+the packet of which he was the bearer. More and more Paul wondered what
+could be the meaning of it all&mdash;what could be the meaning of the curious
+hieroglyphics in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>But suddenly, just as he was congratulating himself on the distance he
+had placed between himself and his pursuers, Falcon slackened speed, and
+began to breathe hard. What was the meaning of it? Had an accident
+befallen him, or had he grown weary? Paul knew enough of the animal to
+know that it would not readily slacken speed through weariness. Falcon
+was one of those sterling animals who would take every inch from himself
+before he would give in through weariness.</p>
+
+<p>If he could only get it a little farther on the road, it might be
+possible to keep the advantage he had gained on his pursuers. Once more
+he encouraged the horse to go forward; and once more it made a desperate
+effort to obey him.</p>
+
+<p>Then it reeled again. Paul had just time to extricate his feet from the
+stirrups when Falcon fell with a crash by the roadside.</p>
+
+<p>Paul hurt one of his legs by the fall, but he had no thought for himself
+as he bent over the horse.</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven help us!" was his fervent prayer, for in that one brief glance
+he could tell that poor Falcon was dying, and he knew that not long
+would elapse before his pursuers reached him.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, old fellow? Good Falcon&mdash;good!"</p>
+
+<p>Once more Falcon responded to the call; it made desperate efforts to
+rise; but almost immediately slackened. Paul's hand went to its neck. It
+was bathed in perspiration and foam. What had happened to it? In the
+uncertain light it was impossible to tell. Had it injured a foot or leg?
+All at once Paul recalled the way in which the man had lunged at the
+horse at the moment of their escape. He must have injured it in some
+way.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CRY OF THE PSALMIST</h3>
+
+
+<p>Yes; poor Falcon was dying. A crimson stream was running from a wound in
+its flank, and Paul knew that the horse had not many minutes to live.</p>
+
+<p>"The scoundrel!" he said to himself between his clenched teeth, as he
+thought of the man who had wrought this cruel deed. Paul was one of
+those brave lads who would never wittingly have done an act of cruelty,
+least of all to one of God's dumb creatures. It touched him to the quick
+to see the poor horse dying. He knelt by its side, and his hand went
+caressingly over it. Falcon turned to him with such a look of pathos in
+its eyes that a big lump rose in the boy's throat, as though he were
+choking.</p>
+
+<p>"I can do nothing for you, old fellow. I wish I could!"</p>
+
+<p>There was no help near, and it was clear to see that if there had been
+it would have been useless. Falcon was breathing hard, in its last stern
+fight with death. Paul could not bear to see its pain. His hand moved up
+to its head. It soothed the horse. For a minute it lay perfectly still,
+and then, as though in that brief interval of rest it had been
+collecting its strength for a last great effort, it tried to rise to its
+feet again. It rose a little way, then fell. Again it turned its head to
+Paul, and looked at him with glazed eyes. A shiver went over every limb;
+then the noble horse lay quite still, and Paul knew that it was dead.</p>
+
+<p>Tears came to his eyes. It was as though he had been standing by the
+death-bed of a human being. And, now that he was in the presence of
+death, he scarcely knew how to act. Suddenly the sound of distant voices
+roused him from the stupor into which he had fallen. For the moment, in
+his grief at Falcon's death, he had forgotten that he was being
+pursued&mdash;forgotten the message of which he was the bearer.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of voices recalled him to his duty. If he remained there, his
+pursuers would soon discover him, and wrest from him the letter with
+which he had been entrusted. Falcon was dead. He could do no good by
+remaining. To make good his escape, no time must be lost. By God's good
+help, he might yet succeed in eluding his pursuers.</p>
+
+<p>So he pulled himself together, resolved to go forward at all hazards.</p>
+
+<p>"It is for Stan's father," he said to himself, as he tried to run. But
+he soon found that another misfortune had befallen him. The injury to
+his leg prevented him from running. It was only with an effort he could
+walk at any speed, and at every step he took he felt that his pursuers
+were gaining ground.</p>
+
+<p>Redmead was close upon three miles away. How could he hope to reach it
+without being overtaken by the men who were so keenly pursuing him?
+Instinctively came to his memory the words he had so often heard in the
+village church&mdash;"The wicked oppress me&mdash;compass me about. They now
+compass me in my footsteps." And the cry of the Psalmist rose to his
+lips:</p>
+
+<p>"Hold up my goings in Thy paths, that my footsteps slip not. Show Thy
+marvellous loving kindness, O Thou that savest by Thy right hand them
+which put their trust in Thee. Hide me under the shadow of Thy wings
+from the wicked that oppress me, from my deadly enemies, who compass me
+about. Arise, O Lord, disappoint him, cast him down."</p>
+
+<p>With renewed strength he pressed on; but he had not gone far before he
+was compelled to slacken his pace. He realized that it was hopeless for
+him to evade his pursuers unless he could find some hiding-place. He
+looked around. There was no house near. But just a little ahead of him,
+to the right of the road, were the ruins of an old house which had been
+burned almost to the ground, and never been re-built.</p>
+
+<p>As a drowning man clutches at a straw, Paul made his way to the ruins.
+But he had not gone more than a few paces through what had once been the
+garden of the house, when a voice cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo! Who are you? What are you doing here?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul was somewhat startled, for he thought the place deserted. He found
+himself mistaken, however, for a boy came from the ruins and faced him.
+He was slightly taller than Paul, and of slimmer build; but he was none
+the less well proportioned, and his limbs moved with the easy movement
+of a young athlete. In spite of the dusk, Paul recognized him. He was
+one of the senior boys of St. Bede's&mdash;the scholars of which were the
+deadly rivals of Paul's school. There had been a perpetual feud between
+St. Bede's and Garside for many years. Sometimes it would be patched up
+for a week or two; then it would break out with greater violence than
+ever. Just before the vacation, the feud had burst out stronger than
+ever. There is no telling to what length it might have been carried,
+but, fortunately, the vacation came on, and hostilities were suspended.
+The boy before him was Wyndham, one of the ringleaders on the other
+side. The recognition was simultaneous.</p>
+
+<p>"You're one of the bounders of Garside, aren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Paul candidly admitted; "and you&mdash;you're one of the Bede's,
+aren't you? I haven't time to talk. There's some one after me. Can you
+put me up to a place to hide in?&mdash;quick, there's a good fellow!"</p>
+
+<p>"Running away&mdash;eh?" said the other contemptuously, without moving.
+"That's like you Garside fellows!"</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I had only the time to teach you better," retorted Paul
+indignantly. Then, remembering all that was at stake, he suppressed his
+indignation, and in quick, earnest tones: "I'm not sneaking&mdash;on my word
+of honour. I'm the bearer of an important paper, belonging to a chum's
+father. Two men are following me up to try to get it from me. If I can't
+steer clear of them they will take it from me. You know this place. Hide
+me somewhere!"</p>
+
+<p>The earnest tones of Paul appealed to Wyndham.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know of any hiding-place, except&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Except what?" cried Paul eagerly, as he again caught the sound of
+voices from the roadway.</p>
+
+<p>"The old well."</p>
+
+<p>"The old well! How is it possible to hide there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I can let you down in the bucket, if you care to run the risk.
+I've been down it myself&mdash;but I'm not a Garside fellow."</p>
+
+<p>It was as much as to say that "a Garside fellow" was not capable of
+doing what a "St. Bede fellow" could do.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd run any risk&mdash;quick! I can near them coming! Where's the well?"</p>
+
+<p>It was only a few paces from where they were standing. Wyndham led the
+way.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll let you down a little way; then draw you up again directly the men
+have gone&mdash;that is to say, if they should come this way."</p>
+
+<p>"They are coming this way. I feel sure of it, and there's no time to
+lose."</p>
+
+<p>"Here you are, then. Keep steady, and don't make a sound. They won't
+think of you stowed away down there."</p>
+
+<p>Paul got into the bucket. The chain was somewhat rusty, but though it
+was the worse for disuse, and creaked as it was lowered, it held firm.
+When Wyndham had lowered Paul a short distance, he made firm the chain;
+so that he was suspended half-way between the water and the top. It
+wasn't a very pleasant situation. A dank smell came from below, and it
+seemed the abode of darkness as the boy above shut out the last remnant
+of light by placing the cover a little way over the well.</p>
+
+<p>Not a moment too soon, for he had only just finished when a man darted
+up to him and seized him by the collar.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! Got you at last, have I? A nice chase you've led us."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter? That's my collar when you've done with it. Drop it,
+please!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hand over that paper."</p>
+
+<p>"What paper?"</p>
+
+<p>"The paper you're taking to Redmead. Quick&mdash;out with it!"</p>
+
+<p>Wyndham, though he did not appreciate the man's grip on his collar, was
+enjoying the joke. He could see what had happened. The man had mistaken
+him for "that Garside fellow" down the well.</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to oblige you, but I really don't know what you're talking
+about. I haven't any paper."</p>
+
+<p>By this time the second man had arrived on the scene. His sharp, ferrety
+eyes, which&mdash;like the eyes of a cat&mdash;seemed capable of seeing in the
+darkness, immediately went to Wyndham's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Hi, Brockman! Hi! What are you doing? You have got hold of the wrong
+boy!"</p>
+
+<p>"The wrong boy!" exclaimed the man addressed as Brockman. "Are you
+sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certain! Where are your eyes?"</p>
+
+<p>"They're not quite so sharp as yours, Mr. Zuker, I know; but I made sure
+I'd tracked the youngster here."</p>
+
+<p>Paul could hear distinctly every word that passed from his uncomfortable
+position down the well. As the name Zuker fell upon his ears he trembled
+so that he nearly over-balanced himself and fell into the water below.
+It was not with fear. Zuker! That name was one he was never likely to
+forget so long as memory lasted. It was the name of the man for whom his
+poor father had sacrificed his life!</p>
+
+<p>Could it be the same? It was not a common name, and though the man spoke
+English readily, it was with a German accent. Instinctively Paul felt
+that it was the same, instinctively he felt that the man who had been in
+pursuit of him was the man whom his father had tried to save from the
+sea so long ago. As a recompense for what the father had done he was
+hunting down the son!</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you; it's very kind of you," said Wyndham, as Brockman released
+his hold. "Seems to me you're a little too hasty with your hands! The
+next time you take any one by the collar you'd better make sure first
+that you're going for the right one!"</p>
+
+<p>Brockman turned away without deigning to reply. Zuker was about to
+follow his example, but, suddenly checking himself, he asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen any one pass this way&mdash;a boy about your size&mdash;no, not
+quite so tall," as the sharp eyes took note of Wyndham's height.</p>
+
+<p>"About my own size&mdash;not quite so tall? Let me see." Wyndham paused as
+though trying to remember.</p>
+
+<p>"Make haste!" cried Zuker impatiently. "We haven't any time to lose.
+Surely you can remember."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm trying to. You see, there are a good number of boys pass along this
+road during the day."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not speaking about the daytime&mdash;within the last quarter of an
+hour!"</p>
+
+<p>"A quarter of an hour. Let me think."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll get nothing from that blockhead, sir!" cried Brockman. "We're
+losing valuable time!"</p>
+
+<p>Zuker had drawn near the well. His hand rested upon the handle. Wyndham
+was a cool boy, whom it took a great deal to disturb, but it must be
+confessed that he required all his coolness and self-possession at that
+moment. He was fearful lest Zuker might catch a glimpse of Paul down the
+well. But, fortunately, he was too intent on questioning Wyndham. So,
+after asking him one or two more questions, he said cuttingly:</p>
+
+<p>"You're a sharp youth. You will set the Thames on fire some day&mdash;ugh!"</p>
+
+<p>He looked for the moment as though he would spurn Wyndham with his foot;
+but instead of doing so he gave a vicious twist to the well-handle&mdash;to
+the no small alarm of Wyndham&mdash;and hastened after his tool and servant,
+Brockman.</p>
+
+<p>Wyndham leapt to the windlass. The twist given by the German had set the
+bucket in motion. Paul was rapidly descending in the bucket to the
+bottom! He seized the handle in his hand and held on to it with all his
+strength. It vibrated as though it were a live thing. He feared that the
+sudden strain upon the chain might snap it in twain, but it held firm.</p>
+
+<p>"Hi, hi!" he cried below. "Are you all right?"</p>
+
+<p>A moment of intense silence&mdash;a moment which seemed interminable to the
+boy clinging to the handle of the windlass; then, to his great relief,
+the voice of Paul came faintly up the well:</p>
+
+<p>"All right! But&mdash;but it's been a near thing!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hold tight. I'm going to haul you up!"</p>
+
+<p>Slowly he hauled Paul to the top of the well; and, with an
+inexpressible feeling of thankfulness, Paul stepped from the bucket.</p>
+
+<p>"Have they gone?" he asked eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. A near thing, you said; what happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"You just stopped me within about a foot of the water, and the sudden
+jerk nearly pitched me out of the bucket. The scoundrels have gone, you
+say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," smiled Wyndham; "they've gone in hot pursuit of you. They little
+dreamt you were down that well! You couldn't have had a better
+hiding-place."</p>
+
+<p>"Better! Well, perhaps you're right; but it was a bit musty and
+uncomfortable! I'm much obliged to you, all the same. You seem a decent
+fellow, though you are a Beetle!"</p>
+
+<p>Beetle was the nickname given by the Garside boys to the boys of St.
+Bede's.</p>
+
+<p>Wyndham laughed. Paul glanced round the melancholy, deserted ruin. He
+could see no sign of human habitation.</p>
+
+<p>"And you seem a decent fellow, though you are a Gargoyle." (Gargoyle was
+the nickname given by the St. Bede boys to the boys of Garside School.)
+"What's your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Percival. I have often seen you amongst the other Beetles; but you
+don't live about here, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not now." And there was a deep note of melancholy in Wyndham's voice.
+"You can see, it's a ruin; but before it was a ruin I lived here with my
+mother and youngest brother, Archie. He's gone&mdash;now."</p>
+
+<p>"Gone?"</p>
+
+<p>Wyndham nodded, and Paul understood too well what "gone" meant.
+Wyndham's brother was dead; but he wondered what his death could have to
+do with the ruined house. There was a painful silence between them for
+some moments.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you said you were going to Redmead?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; Oakville, that's the house I want."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it. Mr. Moncrief lives there. He's a big man at Chatham
+Dockyard, and has a lot to do with the defences of the Medway and the
+Thames, so I've heard. He designs things, too, for the Admiralty. I'm
+going partly that way if you don't mind walking with a Beetle."</p>
+
+<p>Paul laughed, and remarked that he could put up for once with a Beetle
+if the Beetle could put up with a Gargoyle.</p>
+
+<p>So they started together, and Wyndham told Paul by the way the reason of
+the ruined house.</p>
+
+<p>His father and mother had taken the house soon after they were married.
+He, Gilbert, was born there; so was his younger brother Archie. Three
+years after the birth of Archie, God visited upon them a great
+misfortune by calling to Himself Mr. Wyndham. Gilbert had by this time
+started on his school career, for he was several years older than his
+brother. The second misfortune occurred while he was away at school,
+three years after the death of his father.</p>
+
+<p>Little Archie was the idol of his mother, and a great pet with old
+Martha, the housekeeper, who had been in the household ever since the
+marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham. Early one morning Mrs. Wyndham awoke
+with a feeling of suffocation. On looking, half dazed, around the
+bedroom, she found it full of smoke. Her first thought was of Archie.
+She made her way to his bed. It was empty! She went to the landing; that
+was full of smoke also. She called for her boy. No answer came. The
+bewildered mother imagined that he must have escaped from the burning
+house while she slept.</p>
+
+<p>By God's providence she got out. She found that the two servants had
+managed to escape from the burning house; but there were no signs of
+little Archie! The distracted mother would have entered the burning
+house again to search for him, but she was held back. It was a merciful
+thing that she became unconscious, and did not see the end of the
+homestead where she had spent so many happy, peaceful hours. It was
+burnt almost to the ground, and amongst the ruins in the kitchen were
+found the charred remains of Archie.</p>
+
+<p>The little fellow was fond of watching old Martha when she lit the
+fires. It was believed, therefore, that he had stolen out of bed that
+fatal morning and tried to light the fire in the kitchen on his own
+account. The lighted match set fire to his bedgown, the bedgown to some
+curtains, and so the fire had spread. Archie joined his father in
+heaven.</p>
+
+<p>"I was away at school at the time," said Wyndham, when he had finished
+his painful story. "You can judge what a homecoming that was for me!"</p>
+
+<p>"It must indeed have been sad," said Paul feelingly.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother was ill for a long time, but at length she got well again. I
+was the only one left to her. After that we lived in a house about a
+mile from here. The ruins of the old house still remain, as you have
+seen. Some day my mother may build again, but she hasn't the heart for
+it at present."</p>
+
+<p>The story of little Archie Wyndham is perfectly true. It is not fiction.
+It happened precisely in the way I have described. I know the terrible
+fascination that fire has for children. Unfortunately they do not
+understand its danger. When, therefore, my dear boy or girl, you are
+tempted to play with fire, will you remember the sad fate of little
+Archie Wyndham? That will enable you, by God's help, to put the
+temptation from you.</p>
+
+<p>All at once Paul came to a dead stop. His hand went to his coat-pocket.
+Absorbed in Wyndham's story, he had forgotten all about the letter he
+was to take to Mr. Walter Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" asked Wyndham.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's face had turned to an ashen hue. His hand was still searching his
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"The letter!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"The letter&mdash;well, what about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's gone!"</p>
+
+<p>"Gone!" echoed Wyndham scarce able to believe his ears.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>SHADOWS OF THE EVENING</h3>
+
+
+<p>But too true&mdash;the letter had gone. No wonder Paul was bewildered,
+stupefied. He had risked so much to get that letter to its
+destination&mdash;had braved more than one peril, and come safely
+through&mdash;that it seemed heart-breaking to find the letter gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you searched all your pockets?" asked Wyndham.</p>
+
+<p>"All," answered Paul. "It was in this one&mdash;here"&mdash;he placed his hand
+upon his breast-pocket. "I put it here when it was given me, and I
+haven't shifted it."</p>
+
+<p>"Where, then, can it have gone?"</p>
+
+<p>Where? Paul knew well enough that it was in his possession when he left
+poor Falcon by the roadside, for he had felt in his pocket, and found it
+there. He must, therefore, have lost it since; but where&mdash;where? That
+was the question he kept repeating to himself without finding an answer.
+Of a sudden it came to him. It must have been jerked from his pocket at
+the moment Wyndham caught the handle of the windlass, nearly
+precipitating him from the bucket to the water.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe it's in the well."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" cried Wyndham. "In the well? How can that be?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul explained.</p>
+
+<p>"You must be right," said Wyndham thoughtfully, when the explanation was
+ended. "Well, there's one consolation&mdash;it's better for the letter to be
+in the well than you. It's a pity, but it can't be helped. What will you
+do?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul had been thinking. He could go forward to Mr. Moncrief at Redmead,
+and explain to him that he had lost the letter, or he could go back, and
+explain to the other Mr. Moncrief that he had failed in his embassy.
+Neither alternative was very palatable to him. Duty was before him as a
+pole-star. A still small voice was ever whispering to him, "Paul, thy
+duty. Do that in spite of anything that may happen to you. Place that
+first and foremost, even before self." What, then, was his duty? To
+confess to failure and defeat? No, never! That was the coward's part. He
+would not rest satisfied until he had made an effort to recover the
+letter he had lost, and he told Wyndham so.</p>
+
+<p>"I like your pluck; 'pon my word I do. Didn't think a Gargoyle had so
+much&mdash;really I didn't," said Wyndham; "but it's no use being foolhardy.
+If the letter's at the bottom of the well, how, in the name of wonder,
+are you going to get it up again?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe it's at the bottom. The water was pretty thick, I'm
+certain, by the odour. There would be vegetable stuff, and that sort of
+thing floating on the top of it. Well, if that's so, the letter wouldn't
+sink. The gravity of the water would be greater than the weight of the
+letter."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the Gargoyles do go in a bit for physics&mdash;eh?" smiled Wyndham.
+"Fire away. I believe you're right. What's the next step?"</p>
+
+<p>"The next step is to go down the well again, and prove whether I'm right
+or wrong. Is it asking too much of you to go back with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"You mean going down the well again?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll oblige me by again turning the handle."</p>
+
+<p>Wyndham was by this time thoroughly interested in Paul and his mission,
+and he couldn't help admiring still further his pluck and determination.
+He never imagined that a despised "Gargoyle" had so much of those
+qualities. He willingly fell in with Paul's suggestion, and soon they
+were back again at the well.</p>
+
+<p>"I've forgotten one thing," said Paul. "I haven't a light."</p>
+
+<p>"Luckily I can lend you one. Wait here for a moment."</p>
+
+<p>Paul waited while Wyndham disappeared among the ruins. Presently he
+returned with a lantern, which he lighted and handed to Paul. Thus
+equipped, he once more took his position in the bucket.</p>
+
+<p>"Pay out slowly, and I'll tell you when to stop."</p>
+
+<p>The bucket slowly descended till Paul was within a foot or two of the
+water.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop!" he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>The bucket stopped, then Paul leaned over the side, and flashed the
+light of the lantern on the water. There, to his great joy, was the
+missing letter, floating on the weeds. He cautiously leaned forward, and
+grasping the letter, returned it once more in safety to his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Haul away!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>And Wyndham hauled away, so that a minute later Paul was again at the
+brink of the well.</p>
+
+<p>"Found it?" asked Wyndham eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>For answer Paul produced the letter. It was slightly damp, but little
+the worse otherwise for its immersion.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you deserve it. I'm jolly glad you've found it."</p>
+
+<p>"I should never have got it hadn't it been for you. It was very good of
+you to turn back with me, and I hope if at any time I can do you a
+service, you'll let me know."</p>
+
+<p>The two boys tramped on once more to their destination. Wyndham wished
+Paul good-night at the entrance to Redmead, his home lying in another
+direction. It was not long before Paul came in sight of Oakville. It was
+a fine old country house. A light was shining from its gabled front. By
+its light Paul could see that there was a man hovering about the house.
+He could not get a clear glimpse of him, but he was certain, from the
+man's figure and gait, that it was Brockman, the confederate of Zuker,
+the German spy. Knowing that Paul must come to the house, he had
+evidently been on the watch for him.</p>
+
+<p>Now that he had come so far, Paul did not intend being foiled at the
+last moment. He saw that it was useless trying to enter by the front of
+the house, so he crept round to the back.</p>
+
+<p>A light was coming from one of the windows. Paul made for this window,
+and looked through. He was scarcely prepared for what he saw. It was
+evidently a play-room. There was a large rocking-horse in one corner. A
+trapeze was slung up in the centre. There were single-sticks and foils
+on the wall, dumb-bells, Indian-clubs, a parallel-bar, and a
+vaulting-horse stowed away in another part of the room. But it was not
+so much these things which attracted the attention of Paul as the
+occupants of the room. A middle-aged gentleman was kneeling. He was
+praying aloud. Near him was a lady. On either side of her was a girl and
+boy&mdash;the boy about twelve, the girl a couple of years older. In line
+with them were a couple of maidservants and a governess. Paul could see
+that they were at family prayers. He guessed that the gentleman who was
+praying was Mr. Walter Moncrief, the gentleman he had come in search of
+by his likeness to his brother.</p>
+
+<p>When they had finished prayers, the lady went to the piano, and the
+little group joined heartily in a hymn Paul had often heard at school:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Now the day is over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Night is drawing nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shadows of the ev'ning<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Steal across the sky."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Paul listened reverently, with bowed head. How appropriate the words
+seemed to be. In very truth had the shadows been stealing across the sky
+that evening, and they had not yet dispersed. Brockman, the man without,
+was still hovering darkly, like a cloud, over that house. Again the
+singers within raised their voices:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Through the long night-watches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May Thine angels spread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their white wings above us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Watching round each bed."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Paul echoed those words very earnestly in his heart as his hand clasped
+tightly the letter for which he had risked so much. The room was an
+addition to the house, and led by a separate door into the garden. When
+the singing had ended, Paul stepped softly to the door and knocked
+gently on it with his knuckles. It was opened by one of the servants.
+The light of the lamp fell upon Paul as the door opened, and the eyes of
+all in the room turned to him as he stood there, with the letter in his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I see Mr. Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am Mr. Moncrief. What is it you want with me, my lad?" said that
+gentleman stepping forward.</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a>
+<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"<span class="smcap">'I am Mr. Moncrief,' said that gentleman, stepping forward.</span>"</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p>"I've brought a letter from your brother, Mr. Henry Moncrief. He
+couldn't bring it himself, because of an accident&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"An accident?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing very serious, sir. A sprain, I think. He asked me to take the
+letter for him, and as he's the father of a school chum of mine, Stan
+Moncrief; I brought it along, and here it is," Paul explained rapidly,
+as he handed Mr. Moncrief the letter.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had by this time entered the room. Directly Mr. Moncrief glanced at
+the letter his face became very grave. He went from the room, and his
+wife followed him, evidently as anxious as himself to know the contents.
+The servants retired, and Paul was thus left alone with the boy and
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>There was not the least shyness about the former, for directly his
+parents left the room, he came forward and introduced himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Harry Moncrief&mdash;named after the uncle you brought that letter from.
+He was my godfather, you know. This is my sister, Connie." Connie, who
+was a pretty, fair girl, looked embarrassed at her brother's blunt
+method of introduction, but he rattled on. "Rather good for a girl. Not
+so slow as most of them. Can take a turn with the bells or clubs"&mdash;by
+bells and clubs was meant dumb-bells and Indian-clubs&mdash;"and she can
+scout at cricket. Didn't I hear you say you were a chum of cousin
+Stanley's?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; we're in the same Form."</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;at Garside School?" asked the boy eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>Paul nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah!&mdash;hurrah!" cried Harry. "I'm going to Garside next term. I've
+left Gaffer Quelch's, thank goodness!"&mdash;Gaffer Quelch's was a college
+for juvenile scholars in the neighbourhood&mdash;"and I'm going to see life
+at Garside."</p>
+
+<p>Paul could not help smiling at the boy's idea of "seeing life," and the
+high and exalted notion he seemed to have of Garside.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know young Plunger? He used to be my chum at Quelch's, but he
+left there a term ago, and went to Garside. That's another reason I'm
+going there. Things are awfully slow at Quelch's since Plunger left He's
+a big pot at Garside, isn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very," answered Paul drily.</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew young Plunger well enough. He was in one of the junior Forms.
+Though he had been at Garside only a term, he had almost succeeded in
+creating a record for the number of scrapes into which he had got during
+that short period.</p>
+
+<p>"Cousin Stan being so high up in the school, I don't want to let him
+down, you know, by making any mistakes when I get to Garside," Harry
+rattled on. "I want to do things in correct form, you see; for if I let
+myself down, I let Stan down. So I asked Plunger the right thing to do
+on going to Garside. Plunger's an awfully good sort of fellow, so he
+took the trouble to write down for me what ought to be done; but I
+wasn't to show it to any one here, for some of the things are school
+secrets, he tells me."</p>
+
+<p>Connie had discreetly withdrawn from the room, leaving Paul and her
+brother together. The latter, however, glanced round to make sure they
+were quite alone before he drew from his pocket the mysterious document
+which Plunger had written for his instruction on entering Garside
+School.</p>
+
+<p>"1. Trousers to be turned up at bottom three inches.</p>
+
+<p>"2. Spats on boots (patents).</p>
+
+<p>"3. White waistcoat. Eton jacket.</p>
+
+<p>"4. Introduce yourself to Bax, the porter, by giving him two slaps on
+the back and a dig with right-hand forefinger in ribs. Give him
+following particulars: Age and weight. Whether vaccinated&mdash;show marks.
+Give also measurement of biceps and chest.</p>
+
+<p>"5. On seeing Mrs. Trounce (matron) go down on right knee, and present
+her with your portrait (for school album). Write on bottom of card, in
+clear handwriting, 'With love and kind regards.'</p>
+
+<p>"6. Two shillings to be left at Billiter's for 'footing,' etc."</p>
+
+<p>Paul could scarcely refrain from smiling at the code of rules which the
+audacious Plunger had drawn up for his chum's instruction, the more so
+as Harry, who had never been to a public school, seemed to take them in
+all seriousness.</p>
+
+<p>"You've been through it all, of course?" said Harry, as Paul handed the
+rules back to him. "Kind of Plunger to take so much trouble, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul was on the point of answering as Mr. Moncrief entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>Harry hastily thrust the paper out of sight.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK</h3>
+
+
+<p>"What is your name, my lad?" Mr. Moncrief asked as he entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Percival," answered our hero.</p>
+
+<p>"And he goes to the same school as Cousin Stan. Isn't that stunning,
+pa?" exclaimed Harry Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>"Many thanks for the great service you have done, Paul," said Mr.
+Moncrief earnestly. "You have not only done a great service for me and
+my brother, but for your country. A duty like that brings its own
+reward. But how was it you came by the back way?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul then explained all that had happened since he had left Mr.
+Moncrief's brother. The stoppage on the way by the two men who had tried
+to wrest from him the letter, the death of poor Falcon, the loss of the
+letter and its recovery, his arrival at Oakville, and his discovery that
+Brockman was lying in wait for him at the house.</p>
+
+<p>"The scoundrels!" cried Mr. Moncrief, with flashing eyes, as he paced
+rapidly to and fro the room. Then, pausing again, he clasped Paul by the
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I gave you credit for a great deal, but I haven't given you half credit
+enough. So long as you do your duty as you have done it to-night, you
+have nothing to fear for the future. May God bless you, and have you
+always in His keeping, as He has had to-night. I will return with you
+home, and see that no harm befalls you by the way."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Moncrief had already given orders that his trap should be in
+readiness as quickly as possible, and shortly after the servant entered
+and announced that the coachman was awaiting his master.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, Paul! You'll look out for me at Garside, won't you?" cried
+Harry, as he went out.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I'll look out for you!" said Paul, as he thought with a smile
+of the instructions Plunger had given Harry on his introduction to
+Garside School.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Moncrief kissed Paul as she wished him good-night, just as his
+mother did, and he could not help blushing. He wondered whether Connie
+Moncrief would do the same, and was much relieved on finding that she
+made no attempt to follow her mother's example.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing was to be seen of the man Brockman when they got outside.</p>
+
+<p>"He has smelt a rat, and when he found the horse was being harnessed,
+got away as quickly as possible," said Mr. Moncrief. "We shan't be
+troubled with him again to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Moncrief's surmise turned out to be correct. No further adventure
+befel them on the homeward journey. Paul learned, by the way, that the
+man Zuker was a German Jew of great ability and cunning. He was
+suspected to be a spy in the service of a foreign Government&mdash;which
+Government Mr. Moncrief did not mention, but Paul guessed which was
+meant.</p>
+
+<p>The spy's purpose in coming to England was to ascertain all he could as
+to the defences of the Thames and the Medway.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you have the man arrested?" Paul asked, deeply interested in all
+he heard, and feeling more and more convinced that this man Zuker was
+the spy whom his father had saved from the sea at the risk of his own
+life.</p>
+
+<p>"He's too adroit. He's one of the craftiest spies the Admiralty has ever
+had to deal with. We can get no direct evidence against him. Neither do
+we know his exact whereabouts. He's like some nasty slug&mdash;you can only
+tell where he's been by the slime he leaves behind. Of course, he has
+one or two confederates to help him."</p>
+
+<p>"I trust they aren't Englishmen, sir?" said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust so, too. But I fear there are still Judases in the land&mdash;men
+who would betray their country, as Judas betrayed his Lord and Master,
+for money, though the price would be a great deal more than thirty
+pieces of silver. Our enemies would give a great deal to get a draft of
+some of the plans in the archives of the Admiralty, I can tell you,
+Paul."</p>
+
+<p>By this time they had reached Paul's home, to the great relief of Mrs.
+Percival and Mr. Henry Moncrief, who had begun to fear that some mishap
+had befallen Paul by the way. By the latter's request nothing was said
+to his mother about the peril in which he had stood, for fear of
+alarming her.</p>
+
+<p>The two brothers had a short interview together. Then, as Mr. Henry
+Moncrief's leg was still painful, it was decided that he should remain
+at Rosemore&mdash;Paul's home&mdash;that night, and return to his own home the
+next morning. His brother returned to Oakville that same night.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning a carriage came for Mr. Henry Moncrief, to which he was
+able to limp by the assistance of a manservant.</p>
+
+<p>"I shan't regret the accident which has introduced me to you and your
+son, madam," said he, as he wished Paul and his mother good-bye through
+the carriage window. "I have to thank you for your hospitality, and him
+for the great service he has done me. God bless him and you!"</p>
+
+<p>It was almost an echo of words Paul had heard before, but they fell none
+the less sweetly on his ears. That night he dreamed he was hard at work
+on the prize essay, "The Invasion of Great Britain," and that just as he
+had finished it, a shadow fell across the room. He turned round to see
+whence the shadow came, and saw that it was&mdash;Zuker! Then he melted into
+thin air. When Paul turned to his essay he found that that had
+disappeared, too. In the shock of the discovery he awoke. Some one was
+bending over him, but it was not Zuker. It was his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, dear?" she asked anxiously. "You cried out so loudly that I
+thought something dreadful had happened."</p>
+
+<p>"Cried out! What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Help! help!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said Paul, laughing, but shivering in spite of himself, "I was
+dreaming&mdash;that is all! I'm sorry to have disturbed you, mother."</p>
+
+<p>The day following, the vacation was at an end, and Paul returned to
+Garside. It was an old, turreted building, dating a couple of centuries
+back. Flying from the west turret was a flag, known as the "old flag at
+Garside." It had a history which was dear to every boy in the school. It
+had been taken by Captain Talbot in the Crimea. The captain had formerly
+been a scholar at Garside. He died soon after of his wounds, and left
+the flag as a legacy to the school.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep the flag flying at the old school," he said, almost with his last
+breath. And then God received his spirit.</p>
+
+<p>The flag was very much stained, and had scarcely any of the original
+pattern remaining; but, none the less, the boys were prouder of that
+flag than any other decoration in the school.</p>
+
+<p>Just as Paul came in sight of it flying from the turret, a timid voice
+sounded in his ear:</p>
+
+<p>"Is that Garside, please?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul, looking down at the speaker, saw a weak-looking, wizen-faced boy,
+with pale, thin cheeks, and one shoulder slightly higher than the other.
+In a word, he was a hunchback. Paul could not help a slight start as he
+looked at him. The boy was quick to notice it, and a slight wave of
+colour came to the pallid cheek. Paul was annoyed at himself for having
+betrayed astonishment, and answered kindly:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; that is Garside. Are you going there?"</p>
+
+<p>The boy nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; we'll go along together. Do you mind taking my arm? The
+fellows are rather a rough lot till you get to know them. Your first
+term, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>The boy looked his gratitude as Paul took him by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; my first term," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know anybody at the school?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody. I'm quite a stranger."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with a foreign accent, and Paul wondered who he could be. At
+the same time he could not help pitying the solitary boy. He would have
+rather a sorry time of it amongst the other "Gargoyles."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, youngster"&mdash;a junior was always "a youngster" in the eyes of his
+senior&mdash;"if I can be of help to you at any time, don't be afraid to come
+to me. What is your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hibbert&mdash;Tim Hibbert. And&mdash;and if you don't mind, I'd like to know
+yours?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul told him his name, and they entered the grounds together. A number
+of the boys had already arrived. Some stood in small groups, talking and
+laughing about incidents that had happened during the vacation. Others
+were playing at leapfrog, or chasing each other from pillar to post.</p>
+
+<p>Those nearest to the gates paused in their games as Paul entered, and
+stared at the hunchback. Newall, a senior, said something about
+"Percival and his camel." The remark was as cruel as offensive. Paul did
+not mind for himself, but he did for his companion. He glanced at
+Hibbert, and again noticed the delicate colouring mount to the pale
+cheek. He had evidently caught the sense of Newall's remark, too.</p>
+
+<p>"They have rough speech as well as rough ways, haven't they?" the boy
+remarked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Some of them&mdash;yes; but you mustn't mind that. They're not such a bad
+lot, take them altogether."</p>
+
+<p>Newall was one of the most arrogant boys at Garside. He had a rough
+tongue, and loved to domineer. You will always find your Newalls in
+every public school, no matter where it be. They are terrors to the
+nervous, sensitive boy; but they always succeed in attracting to
+themselves followers, lads of like dispositions to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew well enough that Newall intended the remark for his benefit,
+but he paid no heed to it. He looked round the ground in the hope of
+finding Stanley Moncrief, but saw nothing of him.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps he's gone to meet that young cousin of his," he
+said to himself, as his mind went back to Oakville, and the
+never-to-be-forgotten evening on which he had met Harry Moncrief.
+Hibbert wished to be taken to Mr. Weevil the science master, as he was
+to receive his introduction to the school through that gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>Paul accordingly took him to Mr. Weevil's rooms. He was fortunate enough
+to find the master in. He was a sallow-complexioned man, with thin,
+clean-shaven lips. He had a restless, hungry-looking pair of eyes, which
+went up quickly to Paul as he entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Percival?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've brought along a new boy, sir&mdash;Hibbert."</p>
+
+<p>"Hibbert?" Mr. Weevil at once rose from his seat, and eyed the boy
+keenly; then his hand went out to the lad: "Welcome to Garside. You can
+leave us, Percival."</p>
+
+<p>Thus summarily dismissed, Paul went out, leaving Hibbert and the science
+master together. It seemed as though the master were favourably
+impressed with the new boy&mdash;in spite of the fact that he was a
+hunchback.</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo, Weevil! That's a point in your favour, at any rate. I didn't
+think that you had much pity for any one. Poor little chap!"</p>
+
+<p>His heart went out in sympathy to the little hunchback. What a shadow
+his deformity must cast upon his life?</p>
+
+<p>"They say that hunchbacks are spiteful, and I don't wonder at it. But
+Hibbert doesn't seem a spiteful sort of fellow. Where did he pick up
+that foreign accent, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>As he thought of him, he could not help thinking how thankful he ought
+to be to God that he was healthy and straight of limb. It was not till
+he came in contact with poor, deformed creatures like Tim Hibbert that
+he understood God's goodness to himself.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Not more than others I deserve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet Thou hast given me more,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>he said softly to himself as he returned to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>He had not gone far before he saw Stanley Moncrief coming towards him.
+He was about Paul's age and height, with a like ruddy complexion, and
+frank, open face. The two chums were delighted to meet again,
+especially as so much had happened since their last meeting. Arm in arm
+they walked about the ground talking eagerly, when their conversation
+was suddenly interrupted by a shout of laughter from the other end of
+the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Paul, that looks very much like my young cousin coming towards
+us," said Stanley, looking in the direction whence the laughter came.
+"What on earth has the little ass been doing with himself?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>HARRY MONCRIEF ARRIVES AT GARSIDE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Well might Stanley ask the question. His young cousin had attired
+himself in the most extraordinary fashion. His trousers&mdash;plaid
+ones&mdash;were turned up three or four inches at the bottom, as though for
+the purpose of displaying to the utmost advantage the white spats on his
+patent shoes, while surmounting the lower half of him was a gorgeous
+white waistcoat, cutaway jacket, and tall hat. Paul could not help
+smiling, for he at once saw the reason of this remarkable attire. Young
+Moncrief had followed out precisely the instructions sent him by his
+friend Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"He seems to have got himself up regardless of expense, Stan," smiled
+Paul. "He means making an impression on the school. But you needn't
+scowl so, old fellow. It's all done for your sake. He thinks it the
+correct form, and doesn't want to let you down."</p>
+
+<p>"Correct form&mdash;don't want to let me down!" repeated Stanley, bewildered.
+"What on earth are you driving at?"</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon Paul related to Stanley the conversation he had had with Harry
+on the day he had visited Oakville, and the mysterious document he had
+shown him from Plunger as to the correct way to dress, and what to do on
+entering Garside.</p>
+
+<p>"And the little soft has nibbled at Plunger's bait," laughed Stanley.
+"It isn't a bad joke, and I suppose I mustn't spoil it."</p>
+
+<p>So Stanley and Paul kept out of the way of the throng of boys who, with
+Harry Moncrief in their midst, were making their way across the grounds
+in the direction of the schoolhouse. Harry, with his arm linked in
+Plunger's&mdash;a dark boy, with mischief-sparkling eyes&mdash;seemed quite
+unconscious of the fact that the boys were laughing at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Bax is busy with some of the other freshers," Plunger was saying; "so
+you'd better get over your introduction to Mrs. Trounce, and we'll hunt
+up old Bax after."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Freddy," answered Harry, quite elated at the thought that he
+had at last entered a public school where there were boys bigger and
+older than himself, and that he was being initiated into its mysteries
+and ways. "After that I suppose I can find my cousin?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes!"</p>
+
+<p>"And there's a chum of his I met at home during the vac.&mdash;Paul Percival.
+Do you know him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ra-ther. He's one of the seniors&mdash;in the same form as your cousin. I
+didn't know that you knew him."</p>
+
+<p>"I've only met him once, but I should like to meet him again. Pater
+thinks no end of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you'll see plenty of him at Garside&mdash;a good deal too much. Those
+Upper Form fellows think no end of themselves, I can tell you. This way
+to the divine Trounce. You haven't forgotten?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not; I've got all the rules by heart. See, here's the photo."</p>
+
+<p>He drew from his pocket a photograph of himself as he spoke, with some
+writing on the bottom, which he handed to Plunger. The boys following
+behind grew black in the face trying to choke down their laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Jolly good of you, Harry!" exclaimed Plunger, regarding the photograph
+admiringly. "I didn't know you were such an awfully good-looking fellow.
+Trounce will think a lot of it, I can tell you."</p>
+
+<p>The matron's rooms were a modern addition to the school, at the end of
+the building. Mrs. Trounce, who was at heart rather an amiable woman,
+was busily engaged in her room sorting out an endless array of boys'
+wearing apparel. Her motherly face, therefore, wore an unusually severe
+and worried expression as the boys entered the room. The windows outside
+were suddenly darkened with innumerable faces peering through the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>"I have the honour&mdash;the distinguished privilege," said Plunger, with an
+elaborate bow to the matron, "of presenting to you Master Henry
+Moncrief, of Oakville."</p>
+
+<p>Upon this he gave Harry a nudge, and Harry promptly fell on his right
+knee before the matron, and drawing from his pocket the photograph he
+had just shown to Plunger, presented it to Mrs. Trounce with a bow, and
+"Allow me, madam."</p>
+
+<p>A titter came from the faces pressed against the windows outside. Mrs.
+Trounce took the photograph. The severity of her face did not relax, nor
+did it soften when, looking from the photograph, she saw the words
+beneath it, "With love and kind regards."</p>
+
+<p>She looked for the moment as though she were about to administer to
+Harry a sound box on the ears, but, altering her mind, she bestowed it
+instead on the ears of Master Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"With my love and kind regards, Master Plunger!" she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>The titters outside grew louder.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, thanks&mdash;so much!" said Plunger, with his hand to his ear at this
+totally unexpected reception, which he had anticipated to be the portion
+of his chum. "Come along, Harry; we won't waste any more of Mrs.
+Trounce's time. She's very busy. I'll show you your sleeping quarters,
+and then we'll hunt up Bax."</p>
+
+<p>He beat a hasty retreat from the room, half anticipating that if he
+stayed longer the matron might seek to balance matters by boxing the
+other ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did she do that, Freddy?" asked Harry, when they had got safely
+from the room.</p>
+
+<p>"It was your photo that did it, Hal; that's quite certain. I noticed how
+she changed colour when she looked at it. It must have reminded her of
+some unhung scoundrel she's met with in the course of her career, and
+she took it out of me. She knows I like to suffer for my friends. That's
+my great weakness. I hope you'll make a better impression on Bax."</p>
+
+<p>He led the way as he spoke through a winding passage and up the
+staircase to the dormitories. He entered one on the door of which was
+painted "E." It was a good-sized room, with six cubicles, side by side,
+with their heads to the windows. Over each was a text of Scripture,
+while on a larger card, at one end of the dormitory, in illuminated
+letters, were the words, "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet." At the other
+end was a corresponding card, on which was printed, "Motto for the year,
+'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.&mdash;1 Cor. xv. 58.'"</p>
+
+<p>"There's your cubicle&mdash;next to mine; so that'll be jolly," said Plunger,
+pointing to a couple of beds at the end of the room. "The other fellows
+in the dorm. are Baldry, Sedgefield, and Viner."</p>
+
+<p>"But that only makes three. There are four beds."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes! The fourth bed was Mellor's, but his pater took him away for
+some reason or other last term. He's gone over to the enemy."</p>
+
+<p>"The enemy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you know who the enemy is? The Beetles&mdash;the bounders at St.
+Bede's. Pretty saints they are, too! You'll know enough of them before
+you've finished here, I warrant. They call us 'Gargoyles.' Cheeky
+bounders, aren't they?"</p>
+
+<p>Before Hal had finished there! Lightly the words were spoken. Neither
+paid much heed to them. But how much was to happen before Hal Moncrief
+had finished at Garside. Neither could see into the future&mdash;behind that
+veil which young and old are ever trying to peer through, but which God
+in His infinite love and mercy keeps ever close drawn. That lamp of
+His&mdash;the lamp of which the card spoke at the end of the dormitory&mdash;is
+for ever burning, however, and there is no fear of our footsteps
+stumbling so long as we walk by its light. Then the dark veil which
+hides the future need have no terror for us, boys and girls; for we know
+that when it is at last lifted it will only reveal to us the still
+greater light beyond.</p>
+
+<p>"Baldry and Sedgefield are decent fellows. I don't care much for Viner.
+He's rather deep, and does fagging now and then for Newall&mdash;a chap in
+the same form as your cousin. By the by, don't mention Newall to your
+cousin. It's like waving a red flag before a mad bull. They're this
+way."</p>
+
+<p>He crossed his two forefingers as he spoke, as an indication of Stanley
+and Newall's attitude to each other.</p>
+
+<p>Hal pondered over this information for a moment. His cousin, then, had
+his enemies? By the brief glimpse which Plunger had given him of the
+life at Garside, he could see that it was not all plain sailing. There
+were deeper currents than any he had seen at Gaffer Quelch's school. The
+waves beat with stronger force, and there were shoals and rocks.</p>
+
+<p>"Who'll take the empty bed? Will it be left empty?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's not much fear of that. I wish there would, but they're sure to
+put some fresher in it. I hope he's a decent chap, that's all! If he
+isn't, we must make it warm for him. But come along, let's get outside!"</p>
+
+<p>They turned to the door, but as they did so it opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered, followed by Hibbert, the weak little hunchback, whom we have
+already met with in the grounds. The deep-set eyes of the science master
+went to Plunger, from Plunger to Hal, whom he had never seen before.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you? What are you doing here, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in a sharp, quick voice, and Harry knew at once that he was in
+the presence of one of the masters, and the same instinct somehow told
+him that the master was Mr. Weevil, of whom he had heard, but never
+seen.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Harry Moncrief, cousin of Stanley Moncrief, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" The master half closed his eyes as he spoke. Hal thought that he
+was going off to sleep as he stood there. Plunger knew better. He knew
+that Mr. Weevil had the habit of seeing a good deal more through his
+half-closed eyes than when they were wide open, and that he was taking
+"full stock"&mdash;a mental inventory&mdash;of Harry. He kept them closed for so
+long that Harry felt more and more certain that he was going to sleep.
+When he thought he was right off, the master startled him by opening
+them to their widest extent, as much as to say, "Thought me napping, did
+you? But I'm not! I'm awake!&mdash;wide awake!&mdash;very much awake!"</p>
+
+<p>"Glad to meet you!" he said in a softer voice. "Trust you will get on
+well at Garside. Your father is a gentleman of some distinction. I hope
+you will follow in his footsteps. This is Hibbert"&mdash;introducing the
+hunchback. "He also is a new boy. I trust you will be friends&mdash;close
+friends. He has no friends or relatives in England. His father is abroad
+on foreign service. That appeals to your sympathy, as it has appealed to
+mine&mdash;does it not?&mdash;and will draw you closer to Hibbert. He will occupy
+this dormitory&mdash;the bed vacated by Mellor." Then, turning to Hibbert: "I
+hope you will prove more loyal to Garside than your predecessor&mdash;Mellor,
+I mean&mdash;and that you will endeavour, along with Moncrief here, to keep
+up the best traditions of Garside. You see our motto for the year"&mdash;he
+pointed to the motto as he spoke&mdash;"'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Keep to that, and you won't go far wrong."</p>
+
+<p>When he had given this advice, the master left the dormitory with
+Hibbert, who, occupied in observing his new quarters and companions, had
+not spoken during the interview.</p>
+
+<p>"A queer sort of chap, our new bedfellow, isn't it, Freddy?"</p>
+
+<p>"And Weevil's a beastly fraud!" said Plunger, with a shrug of the
+shoulders. "But, come, we must hurry up! You haven't yet been introduced
+to good old Bax."</p>
+
+<p>Soon they were in the grounds again. The same crowd of boys that had
+followed them to the matron's was hanging about the door as they went
+out, and began tittering again as Harry came in sight.</p>
+
+<p>Harry did not notice them, nor did he notice the wink that Plunger gave
+them as he glanced in their direction.</p>
+
+<p>"Great Scott!" he suddenly exclaimed. "There's Bax! Hurry up, Hal!"</p>
+
+<p>And, linking his arm in Harry's, he hurried him in the direction of a
+short, somewhat corpulent man in buttons, who was just coming from the
+lodge.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it the porter?" asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the porter. You haven't forgotten the rules? Hurry up!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>A BAD COMMENCEMENT FOR THE TERM</h3>
+
+
+<p>No need to tell Harry to hurry up. He was as anxious to introduce
+himself to the porter as Plunger could have been. So, running forward,
+he quickly gained the porter's side, and brought his hand down twice,
+vigorously, upon that worthy's shoulder, and, before Bax had recovered
+from his astonishment, dug the forefinger of his right hand sharply into
+his side, exclaiming:</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Mr. Bax? Age, twelve&mdash;just turned; weight, five stone
+ten; biceps, eight inches; chest, twenty-eight; vaccinated, three
+places!"</p>
+
+<p>The little porter grew purple in the face. He gasped for breath. When he
+had recovered, he returned the vigorous slaps he had received upon the
+back by a still more vigorous slap upon the head of Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Vaccinated in three places, are you, young gent. That will vaccinate
+you in four. Don't get practising any of your larks on Bax. He's not the
+one to stand it, young gent."</p>
+
+<p>And, so saying, the porter strutted indignantly off. Harry had reeled
+under the vigorous blow of the porter; but just before he recovered, a
+hand came down on his top-hat, and crushed it over his ears, while a
+voice cried, amid roars of laughter, "Vaccinated in four places!"</p>
+
+<p>As Harry with difficulty drew himself from under the crushed hat, he
+found himself confronted by the boy who had crushed it. It was Robert
+Newall&mdash;the boy who had taunted the hunchback. He was a big,
+strong-looking fellow, with sandy hair, prominent nose, prominent teeth,
+and bold, self-confident face.</p>
+
+<p>"Vaccinated in four places!" repeated Newall, with a mocking laugh.
+"What asylum have you escaped from, kiddie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you? What did you do that for?" gasped Harry indignantly,
+smoothing out his hat, and looking round helplessly for his friend
+Plunger. But now that one of the Senior Form had taken up the baiting,
+Plunger had been compelled to give way to him. He was only a cipher in
+the mob of laughing, jeering boys who had gathered round Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Chest, twenty-eight inches. What a Samson it is!" jeered Newall. "All
+your own?" He tapped Harry smartly on the chest with his knuckles, as
+though he were testing it. "Yes, genuine article. You're a wonder&mdash;a
+perfect wonder! And what's the biceps! Eight inches! Why, it's a regular
+Hercules! It isn't every day that a marvel like you comes to Garside; so
+walk round and show your muscle, kid."</p>
+
+<p>Harry now saw that they were poking fun at him. His face was scarlet; he
+was quivering with indignation. He was choking. The tears seemed very
+near the floodgates. It was only with a strong effort he kept them back.
+He did not answer his tormentor, but stared at him blank-eyed.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hear what I said?" went on Newall. "Come, wake up&mdash;walk!"</p>
+
+<p>With a flip of his hand he sent the hat which Harry had been trying to
+smooth out whirling amongst the throng of boys. There was a shriek of
+laughter as the hat was caught, and sent whirling in turn to another
+part of the throng. This was the finishing stroke to Harry. He burst
+into a flood of passionate tears. The public school boy holds in
+contempt the boy who cries. He regards it as girlish, unmanly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the fresher's a soft!" came from one in the throng.</p>
+
+<p>"A soft, a soft!" passed from lip to lip. Plunger alone was dumb. He had
+not wished that the joke which he had begun at Harry's expense should go
+so far; but now that it had been taken from his hands he was powerless
+to stop it.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's a squealer&mdash;a dear little squealer! Has it brought its bib and
+tuck and feeding-bottle?" went on Newall, amid the laughter of his
+companions.</p>
+
+<p>Harry tried to choke back the scalding tears, which were coursing down
+his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"You're&mdash;you're a cruel brute!" came bursting from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the little squealer's got a tongue, and it can speak! Come, come,
+walk!"</p>
+
+<p>Harry did not stir. So Newall gave him a push which sent him over to one
+side of the throng, where another push sent him quickly back again. The
+sport was only at its commencement, when it was suddenly checked by
+Stanley Moncrief forcing his way through the throng, closely followed by
+Paul Percival.</p>
+
+<p>They had been in the fives court while Plunger and Harry had been inside
+the schoolhouse, and it was not till their return to the ground that
+they caught sight of the throng of boys, of which Harry was the centre.
+On making their way towards it, Paul soon saw what was happening.</p>
+
+<p>"They're baiting a fresher!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"And it's my young cousin!" cried Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>He had no objection to a little fun at Harry's expense. Indeed, it was
+the ordeal which every new-comer to Garside had to go through in some
+form or other. But this seemed more than fun&mdash;more than a joke.
+Otherwise, his cousin would not be in tears. And it was not only the
+sight of his cousin in tears&mdash;it was the sight of his tormentor&mdash;Newall,
+whom he cordially disliked.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop that!" he cried, with flashing eyes and clenched fists, as he
+reached the centre of the throng. "He's my cousin!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, your cousin, Moncrief!" answered Newall, resenting this intrusion
+on Stanley's part. "Nice little girl, isn't she? Heard her squeal?"</p>
+
+<p>At a gesture from him, Viner&mdash;one of the boys who belonged to the
+dormitory in which Harry had been placed&mdash;stooped down at the back of
+the unsuspecting lad. Newall gave him a sudden push, with the result, of
+course, that he came to the ground over Viner's back. Unfortunately his
+head struck on the gravel, and when he scrambled to his feet again
+blood was flowing freely from a cut in his head.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley Moncrief was a quick, hot-tempered lad, and his temper was now
+thoroughly aroused. Before Paul could check him, he sprang at Newall,
+when he saw what had happened to his cousin. The two wrestled for a
+moment, then separated.</p>
+
+<p>Paul stepped in to stop fighting, but before he could do so Stanley had
+shot out his arm blindly. It passed over Paul's shoulder, caught Newall
+on the mouth, and sent him reeling to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Angry passions thus roused, it is impossible to say how the quarrel
+would have ended; but Mr. Weevil appeared on the scene, just as Newall
+had leapt to his feet, eager to return the blow Stanley had given him.</p>
+
+<p>"What does this mean?" he demanded sternly. "Fighting?"</p>
+
+<p>Not a word fell from the boys. The tumult had ceased as by magic.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you hear me? I will stand no trifling! A nice commencement of the
+term. Taking advantage of the absence of Dr. Colville, eh?" came the
+stern voice of the science master, as his eyes went round the group. Dr.
+Colville, the Head of Garfield, had been taken ill during the vacation,
+and had been ordered complete rest from his duties for another month or
+so by his medical adviser. In his absence the reins of government had
+fallen into the hands of Mr. Weevil, as second in command.</p>
+
+<p>Still no answer from the boys. They were as silent as before. It seemed
+as though they had been smitten with sudden dumbness.</p>
+
+<p>"Lost your tongues, eh? They were going briskly enough a minute since!"
+went on the master grimly. Then he paused, and fixed his eyes upon
+Stanley. "Moncrief major! It was you who started this disturbance. You
+struck Newall!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, I struck Newall," assented Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ask Newall, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I am asking you, sir!" came the sharp retort. "Why did you strike
+Newall? Quick, your answer!"</p>
+
+<p>Stanley waited for Newall to speak; but Newall's lips, bleeding and
+swollen from the blow, were tightly compressed. He scarcely heard the
+master's words. He could only think of the blow he had received. It was
+rankling in his mind, and turning to bitter hate the ill-feeling that
+already existed between him and Stanley. It was the first seed of hate
+that in the time to come was to bring forth a bitter harvest of tares.
+Ah, boys, beware of the first seeds of hate! Pluck them from you, as you
+would your hand from the fire. Otherwise they will spring up so quickly
+that they will wind themselves, like poisonous weeds, round every fibre
+of your being, blighting and strangling all the better impulses of your
+nature, killing, above all, the choicest blossom that comes to us from
+the Divine garden&mdash;the blossom of love. Where hate flourishes, love
+cannot be. There is no room for the two. Never since the world began
+have they ever flourished side by side&mdash;never since the seeds of hate
+were planted by the serpent in the first garden, the Garden of Eden.
+Beware, then, of the seeds of hate!</p>
+
+<p>From a fine sense of honour, Stanley remained silent. Now that he had
+struck Newall he had no wish to implicate him. He began to feel some
+pity for him as he saw the blood slowly trickling from his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I to understand that you refuse to speak, Moncrief?" demanded Mr.
+Weevil angrily. Stanley remained obstinately silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you will allow me to explain, sir!" began Paul.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly Mr. Weevil swung round to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a word, sir! Have the goodness to speak when you're spoken to. The
+explanation must first come from Moncrief. If he has not yet learned the
+lesson of obedience, he must begin to learn it. When he has given me his
+explanation, I shall be quite willing to hear whatever else has to be
+said. Now, Moncrief, I am waiting. It is your last chance."</p>
+
+<p>He waited, but Stanley remained obstinately silent. Mr. Weevil's sallow
+face darkened.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; I'm very sorry, but I must teach you that I'm not to be
+defied simply because Dr. Colville is away. I must teach you that I
+mean to be obeyed during his absence. Perhaps a few hours in Dormitory X
+will bring you to your senses."</p>
+
+<p>Dormitory X&mdash;a shortened form for "Extra Dormitory"&mdash;was a dormitory
+apart from all the rest in which, on rare occasions, a pupil was
+confined. It was not, as Mr. Weevil had said, a very good commencement
+for the term; but Stanley saw that it was useless rebelling, so he
+submitted to his fate as cheerfully as he could.</p>
+
+<p>"You haven't acted very well over this matter," said Paul, crossing over
+to where Newall was standing, as Stanley walked away a prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>"Acted very well!" exclaimed Newall, all the passion that had been
+rankling within him surging up. "How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to have spoken up. Moncrief was waiting for you to speak."</p>
+
+<p>"Speak!" cried Newall contemptuously. "Why should I have spoken? I
+didn't want to speak. All I wanted was to get that blow back that
+Moncrief gave me; and I'll have it back yet, if&mdash;if I die for it!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned on his heel and walked away. There was so much passion and
+hatred in the words that even the lightest-hearted amongst the boys were
+impressed by them.</p>
+
+<p>"Newall's got his dander up," said Sedgefield, a rather good-looking,
+fair boy, another of the occupants of Harry's dormitory. "And Weevil
+looked as though he meant business. What a start for the term!"</p>
+
+<p>They strayed away one by one. Paul, turning over in his mind what had
+happened, thought he was alone. But presently he was conscious that some
+one was standing by his side. It was Harry Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you forgotten me, Percival?" the boy asked timidly, for his
+confidence in himself had been shaken by the events of the last
+half-hour.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; I beg pardon for not speaking to you. I'm glad to see you at
+Garside."</p>
+
+<p>"And I&mdash;I'm beginning to be very sorry that I ever came here. I've made
+an ass of myself, and got Stan into a mess in the bargain. What's to be
+done?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing&mdash;just yet. It won't hurt Stanley to be by himself a little
+while. I'm as much to blame as anybody, perhaps, as I ought to have put
+you on your guard against Plunger. But it's bad form here to spoil the
+fun of any one, and that is why I was silent. We shall all survive it.
+It doesn't hurt us to be laughed at sometimes. Most of us have had our
+turn at it; so don't be down in the mouth."</p>
+
+<p>He linked his arm in Harry's, and under the influence of Paul's cheerful
+talk the younger boy threw off the depression that had begun to steal
+over him, and was more cheerful. And all the time he was speaking a
+strong resolve was silently forming in Paul's breast. Whatever happened
+he would visit Stanley in Dormitory X that night!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>FOR THE SAKE OF A CHUM</h3>
+
+
+<p>Nine&mdash;half-past! The clock in the tower had chimed the half-hour when
+lights were out in Paul's dormitory. In the senior dormitories there
+were only four beds&mdash;two less than in the junior. In that where Paul
+slept there were, therefore, three other occupants beside
+himself&mdash;Stanley Moncrief, Waterman, and Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt was not on particularly good terms with most of the fellows. He
+was one of Newall's cronies. Waterman was an easy-going fellow, who was
+on friendly terms with everybody, so long as they did not disturb him
+too much. He was one of those indolent boys, with plenty of talent, if
+they only care to exercise it. The disposition to do so, however, only
+came by fits and starts. In another respect, too, he was like a great
+many other boys&mdash;ay, and girls, too&mdash;and that was&mdash;he would often go to
+a great deal more pains to avoid a difficulty than it would have caused
+him by boldly facing it. So true is the proverb that lazy people often
+take most pains.</p>
+
+<p>Ten o'clock! Paul looked from his bed. There was the bed in which
+Stanley ought to have been sleeping&mdash;empty! Next to that, Waterman. He
+had been asleep for some time. Beyond his bed was Parfitt's.</p>
+
+<p>Was he sleeping? Paul was not quite certain, but he thought he was. It
+would be better to wait a little longer, however. There was no hurry.</p>
+
+<p>He could see in outline, on the wall beyond Parfitt's bed, the motto for
+the year, "Be ye stedfast, unmovable." He liked that motto. It had
+appealed to him when he had first seen it on the wall, and he had often
+repeated it to himself since. He had repeated it frequently to himself
+that night.</p>
+
+<p>"Be ye stedfast"&mdash;stedfast to his friend.</p>
+
+<p>The empty bed beside him made him sad. Stan ought to have been resting
+there. By the stern decree of Mr. Weevil he had been turned from his
+bed, and was at that moment a prisoner, in solitary confinement. For
+what? Simply because he had refused to speak. Oh, it was bitterly
+unjust. If any one ought to have been sent to Dormitory X it was Newall,
+but he had escaped without even a word of blame.</p>
+
+<p>Half-past ten! Paul listened again. He felt certain that Parfitt was at
+last sleeping; so he slipped out of bed as he had slipped into it&mdash;with
+his trousers and stockings on. He drew on his coat; opened the dormitory
+door, and glanced along the corridor. As he did so, the figure in the
+end bed moved, and glanced in the direction of Paul; then breathed hard,
+as though it were sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>Paul, unconscious that Parfitt had seen him, passed into the corridor.
+Dormitory X was in the room next to that occupied by Mr. Weevil, on the
+floor above. Paul crept up the stairs. They seemed to creak horribly,
+but it was the silence of the building that magnified the sound to
+Paul's ears. He glanced along the passage. A light was still burning in
+Mr. Weevil's room. He could see it stealing faintly through a crack in
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Studying late. Trying some scientific experiment, I expect. The fellows
+say that he burns the midnight oil a lot. That's what gives him such a
+sleepy look sometimes, I suppose. No wonder he's such a dab at science."</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew that it was useless to try to get to Stanley along the
+passage. He might succeed in getting past the master's room, but what
+then? The door would be locked, and he could not pass through a locked
+door. Dormitory X had a window looking on to the parapet outside, and it
+was by this window he hoped to gain Stanley's room. There was a small
+lavatory at the end of the corridor, and this likewise had a window
+leading to the roof.</p>
+
+<p>"Be stedfast!" he whispered to himself, as he climbed through the window
+to the parapet. It was a rash thing to do&mdash;a wrong thing. Though Paul
+might have questioned the justice of what Mr. Weevil had done in putting
+his chum in Dormitory X., he had no right, from a chivalrous feeling of
+friendship, to run the risk of a foolhardy adventure at night. But Paul
+thought that he was right, and that, by visiting Stanley, he was
+interpreting in the best way he could the school motto, "Be stedfast."</p>
+
+<p>There were but few stars in the heavens as he stepped on to the parapet.
+The wind blew freshly, and the clouds were scurrying quickly across the
+moon. It was a plain Gothic parapet, in keeping with the time-worn
+building. It rose a couple of feet above the gutter, and the latter, in
+turn, was nearly of the same width; so that there was not much
+difficulty in walking along it to the dormers.</p>
+
+<p>Glancing along the gutter, Paul saw that the light was still burning in
+Mr. Weevil's room. The window beyond was in darkness. That was where
+Stanley was? Would it be possible for him to reach it without being seen
+by Mr. Weevil? He meant trying. Stealing cautiously along the gutter, he
+stopped within a yard or so of the master's window.</p>
+
+<p>What was that? The sound of voices, and it came from Mr. Weevil's room.</p>
+
+<p>"Chewing over science with one of the other masters," thought Paul.
+"It's jolly late to be talking that dry stuff. But hanged if I don't
+think Weevil talks it in his sleep; he's so hot on it. He ought to be
+amongst the fossils in the museum. I don't believe he's got any warm
+blood in him. He was never meant for a human being. Steady&mdash;steady."</p>
+
+<p>He knelt on the gutter, and stretched himself along till he was just
+able to peer into the room. A lamp was burning on the table, on which
+were strewn a number of papers and documents. Over these two men were
+leaning, as though they were earnestly discussing their contents.</p>
+
+<p>"Some musty old parchments from the Assyrians or the lost Ten Tribes, I
+expect," Paul told himself. "But who's the other fossil? I don't seem to
+know him. Not one of the masters here."</p>
+
+<p>He could not see either of the faces very clearly as they bent over the
+documents; but one he knew to be Mr. Weevil's. The other was a
+stranger's.</p>
+
+<p>"Why doesn't he look up?" Paul asked himself, growing curious.</p>
+
+<p>The man was tracing something with his finger on the document before
+him, and Mr. Weevil was following the direction of his finger with the
+closest attention. Presently the man raised his head. In spite of
+himself Paul cried out. The men heard the cry, and he had only just time
+to draw back as they turned to the window.</p>
+
+<p>Paul lay there breathing hard. Would he be found out? His heart beat
+violently as he heard footsteps approach the window. It was opened, and
+the head of the master thrust out. Paul thought that he must be found
+out. There seemed no help for it. He gave himself up for lost.
+Fortunately, the light of the moon was quite obscured at this moment,
+and Paul seemed only a part of the shadows that were flitting over
+parapet and roof.</p>
+
+<p>"It sounded very much like the cry of a human being," said the master,
+peering out, "but it couldn't have been. It must have been the wind, or
+a night-bird."</p>
+
+<p>Then, to Paul's inexpressible relief, he heard the window close. Some
+seconds elapsed, however, before he ventured to look up. He feared, in
+spite of the closed window, to find the eyes of the master fixed upon
+him. Should he turn back? No; that would be acting the coward's part.
+Besides, he must catch another glimpse of the face he had seen.</p>
+
+<p>Presently he heard the murmur of voices within, and knew that the two
+had resumed their interrupted interview. So, taking his courage in both
+hands, Paul peeped once more into the room.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, he was sure of it. The man with whom Mr. Weevil was talking was
+Israel Zuker, the German Jew&mdash;the man who had tried to wrest from him
+Mr. Moncrief's letter&mdash;the man for whom he believed his father had
+sacrificed his life!</p>
+
+<p>Why had Zuker come there? Paul would have given a good deal to know what
+the two were talking about, but not a word of their conversation reached
+his ears. They were bending low, and spoke in little more than whispers.
+For one thing, that was an advantage. They were so earnestly engaged in
+conversation, that they were the less likely to notice anything that
+happened outside. Paul therefore determined not to put off any longer
+the effort to reach Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>He crept quickly to the other side of the window, then waited. He could
+still hear the hum of voices, so he felt sure that he had not been seen.</p>
+
+<p>"Now for old Stan. I'm sure he won't be asleep."</p>
+
+<p>Paul crept close to the window, and tapped on it with his nail.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's there?" said Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>The window was cautiously opened, and Paul slipped into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul! You don't mean to say it's you!" exclaimed Stanley as their hands
+met in the darkness. "What's brought you here?"</p>
+
+<p>"To see you, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you can't see much of me, I'm thinking, by this precious light;
+so, if you won't mind me saying it, old chap, it was silly of you to
+come."</p>
+
+<p>"No it wasn't. I couldn't bear the thought of your moping here by
+yourself, and it was a ghastly shame of Weevil to send you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, come to think of it quietly, he was right enough! I dare say I
+could have got out of the pickle by speaking, but I was obstinate.
+Solitude isn't so bad," he added cheerfully. "It helps you to chew the
+cud of reflection."</p>
+
+<p>"And a bitter cud it is sometimes. That's why I've come. It's better for
+two to try their teeth on it than one."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very good of you, Paul, coming to me. Is Harry all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he's all right, though he was rather cut up at your having to come
+here for him. It's Newall you'll have to look out for. He won't be
+satisfied till he's paid back that blow you gave him. He told me as
+much."</p>
+
+<p>"What did he say? Tell me the exact words."</p>
+
+<p>"After you had gone away with Mr. Weevil, I told Newall what I
+thought&mdash;that he had acted meanly in not speaking up. 'Why should I have
+spoken?' he burst out. 'I didn't want to speak. All I wanted was to get
+that blow back that Moncrief gave me; and I'll have it back, if I die
+for it!'"</p>
+
+<p>A sound of footsteps could be heard in the next room. In his desire to
+console Stanley in his solitude, Paul had said nothing about what he had
+seen in the master's room, though it had been uppermost in his mind all
+the time he had been speaking to Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo! What's that? Weevil's guest on the move. Who is he, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush! Not so loud!" cautioned Paul, clutching Stanley by the arm. "You
+would never guess. You remember what happened to me on the night I took
+that packet to Oakville?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul had confided to his chum all that happened on that night.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't I? And I'm not likely to forget it in a hurry. I only wish that
+I'd been with you then, just as you're with me now. What about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"What about it? Why, the man in the next room is Israel Zuker."</p>
+
+<p>"Paul!" cried Stanley, rising to his feet in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush&mdash;don't I tell you!"&mdash;again clutching him by the arm, and pressing
+him to his former position. "Israel Zuker! I'm sure of it."</p>
+
+<p>"But what can he want with Mr. Weevil, and what can Weevil want with
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ask me another. That's what floors me. Listen! Weevil is letting him
+out."</p>
+
+<p>They remained perfectly silent, as they listened to the footsteps in the
+passage; at first they were quite close, then they died away. Presently
+they heard Mr. Weevil returning alone. He paused as he was on the point
+of entering his own door, as though struck with an idea.</p>
+
+<p>"What's he up to now?" whispered Paul.</p>
+
+<p>They could hear the master enter the next room; then come out again. He
+stopped at Dormitory X.</p>
+
+<p>In another moment the light of a candle could be seen through a crevice
+in the door, and a key was put in the lock.</p>
+
+<p>"He's coming here!" exclaimed Stanley.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>GOOD ADVICE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Instantly Paul crept under the bed, while Stanley as quickly crept in.
+Not an instant too soon, for the next moment the door opened and Mr.
+Weevil, candle in hand, entered. He held the light up, and glanced round
+the room; then came softly to the bed, and glanced down at Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley feigned sleep, but directly the light fell on his face he
+started up as though suddenly wakened, and, staring at the master with
+bewildered eyes, cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Where&mdash;where am I? What&mdash;what's the matter? Oh, it's Mr. Weevil. I beg
+your pardon, sir; but you so startled me. Is anything wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; nothing wrong." Then the master added with a grim smile: "I only
+wanted to see if you were quite&mdash;comfortable."</p>
+
+<p>"As comfortable as one can be in a place like this, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"It was your own fault you came here, remember, and it is an easy matter
+for you to come out. I hope you've decided to give me an explanation
+to-morrow of that disgraceful scene I witnessed in the grounds."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley did not answer; and Mr. Weevil went out, locking the door once
+more behind him. It was not till he had gained his room that Paul crept
+from under the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"I put him off the scent, didn't I?" whispered Stanley. "If I hadn't
+started up like I did, he would have looked under the bed. I'm certain
+he would."</p>
+
+<p>"Very likely. The fat would have been in the fire then, with a
+vengeance. But how about the explanation he asks for? Why not? A few
+words will do it."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not coming from me, if I stick here the term through," came the
+dogged answer. "Let Newall speak first; I'll follow."</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew that it was extremely difficult to move Stanley from his
+purpose, when once he had decided on it. So he did not press the matter
+further just then, hoping that the morning would bring some change in
+the situation. His mind went back to the scene in the next room, and
+Stanley's went in the same direction, for the next moment he changed the
+subject by asking:</p>
+
+<p>"How did Weevil get to know that man Zuker, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what puzzles me. The only explanation I can see is that Weevil
+came across him in his travels, and is rubbing up his German by talking
+with him. Or perhaps they're interested in the same branch of science."</p>
+
+<p>"It's rather a late hour to patter German or science, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>The same thing occurred to Paul, but he could think of no other
+explanation of the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if the light's out now?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul climbed to the dormer, and, gently opening the window, looked along
+to that of the next room. It was now in darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now you had better get back to your own bed," said Stanley, when
+Paul had communicated to him the news.</p>
+
+<p>"I've come here for a night's lodging, and you're not going to be so
+hard-hearted as to turn me out."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley did not speak&mdash;in fact, he would have found it difficult at that
+moment. The fidelity of his friend appealed to him as few things could
+have done. It made him feel awfully soft, like a big girl or one of the
+kids in the junior forms. A senior schoolboy has always a great aversion
+to the display of emotion. He has a notion that it's unmanly and weak;
+so that when Stanley did speak he assumed a gruffness he was far from
+feeling.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you're a muff&mdash;that's all I've got to say. I kick in my sleep
+sometimes&mdash;fearfully; so if you should find yourself on the floor in the
+night time, don't say that I haven't warned you."</p>
+
+<p>Paul smiled as he coiled himself up by the side of his chum; and soon
+they were fast asleep. Paul woke up at daybreak, and having expressed a
+hope that he would see Stanley back in his place that day, returned
+without mishap to his dormitory. The light was only just stealing into
+the room as he entered. His three companions seemed to be sleeping as
+placidly as they had done when he left them.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if I've been missed?" he asked himself, as he looked at the
+sleepers. "I don't think so."</p>
+
+<p>Had he seen the figure in the end bed&mdash;the same that had watched him the
+night before&mdash;open his eyes cautiously, and watch him curiously when his
+back was turned, he would have come to a different conclusion. However,
+he was just as unconscious that Parfitt was watching him as he had been
+the night before. He lay down for another hour, then rose before first
+bell had sounded, washed, dressed, and went out into the grounds.</p>
+
+<p>Early as it was he found Harry Moncrief there before him. He wore rather
+a dejected appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"I've had a beastly night, Paul," he said, coming forward to greet him.
+"I couldn't sleep thinking of Stan. It's the longest night I've ever
+had, and all the other fellows were snoring like steam-engines, except
+that new chap, Hibbert. I rather fancy Plunger had been playing pranks
+with his bed, but he didn't shout out or take on; so he was pluckier
+than I was. Do you think the fellows here will look down on me for
+snivelling?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot say. I hope so. Is young Hibbert out?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's somewhere about the ground, I think."</p>
+
+<p>Paul searched about the ground, but could see nothing of him. He turned
+into the field adjoining, and there he found him, sitting on the trunk
+of a tree, quite apart from the other boys, with his face resting on his
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>"He's just as soft as young Moncrief, but he's too proud to show it.
+He's been crying, I know."</p>
+
+<p>If the boy had been, he brushed away all sign of it when he heard Paul's
+footsteps, and started quickly to his feet. The frightened look in his
+eyes disappeared when he saw who it was. They grew quite bright in an
+instant.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing here, youngster?" said Paul kindly, placing a hand
+upon the boy's shoulder. "You're not going to be a moper, are you? That
+will never do."</p>
+
+<p>"A moper? No; but I'm different, I think, from most other boys. God has
+made me different, you see"&mdash;with a feeble attempt at a smile, as he
+glanced at his shoulder, "I don't care for the games most boys care for,
+and&mdash;and I like quiet places like this, away from the crowd."</p>
+
+<p>Paul could not help a feeling of pity as he followed the boy's glance to
+his deformed shoulder. He was acutely sensitive to his deformity, and
+that, perhaps, was the main reason why he shrank from the society of
+other boys&mdash;why he preferred solitude.</p>
+
+<p>"Have the youngsters in your dormitory been ill-treating you?" he asked,
+regarding Hibbert closely as he put the question.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no!" came the quick answer. "They've had their fun, of course,
+which I enjoyed as much as any of them. I never mind a joke&mdash;indeed I
+don't; so don't think they put upon me."</p>
+
+<p>Paul did not inquire what the jokes were. It was not well to inquire too
+curiously into the jokes of the juniors. He had been through that mill
+himself. Besides, though he pitied Hibbert, he didn't want to encourage
+him to tell tales out of school, especially as the boy seemed averse to
+the practice.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a plucky little chap and as good as you're plucky, I'll
+warrant."</p>
+
+<p>"Good&mdash;good? No, don't say that!" cried Hibbert, so earnestly that Paul
+could not help regarding him in wonder.</p>
+
+<p>He stood with his thin hands pressed tightly into each other, so that
+the nails seemed piercing into his flesh; and the eyes that looked into
+Paul's were quite wild and restless. In that moment it flashed into
+Paul's mind that he had seen eyes like Hibbert's before, but where he
+could not for the life of him make out.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I won't say it if you don't like it," he laughed; "but you're the
+first one I've ever met with who objected to being thought good. I won't
+ruffle your feathers again. Come, let's get back to the ground!"</p>
+
+<p>On entering the ground one of the first they came across was Newall,
+along with his crony, Parfitt. Remembering the cruel jibe Newall had
+flung at Hibbert on the previous day, and what had afterwards happened
+between him and Stanley, Paul tried to avoid him. He felt as though he
+could hardly trust himself in his presence. But Newall would not be
+avoided. He came straight to them, and great was Paul's surprise when he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"I think the advice you gave me yesterday was right enough, Percival. I
+ought to have spoken when the master asked for an explanation of the
+shindy between Moncrief and me. It might have saved him a night in that
+solitary hole&mdash;Dormitory X. But I mean speaking up this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm very glad to hear it. I'm sure it's the right thing. Moncrief will
+be as pleased as I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think so? Well, I'm glad of that; and I'm glad you think it's
+the right thing. I've slept on it, and that's what it's come to. Do you
+know, Percival, I'm beginning to think you an authority on the right
+thing to do? Parfitt is of the same mind. We were talking it over as you
+came up, so your ears must have been burning."</p>
+
+<p>Paul regarded him quickly. Was he in jest or earnest? His face was
+perfectly grave; so was the face of Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks for your flattering opinion. I shall know exactly how much to
+take to myself after you've spoken to Mr. Weevil."</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the apparent frankness of his manner and sincerity of tone,
+Paul could not help thinking that Newall was quietly mocking him&mdash;that
+he had no intention whatever of speaking to the master.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the boy who called me a dromedary," said Hibbert, as they turned
+away. "I shan't forget him. He has a cruel face."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert spoke with more bitterness than Paul had yet heard from him, and
+there was a sparkle in his eyes, which sometimes had so much pain in
+them, that Paul had never seen in them before.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, look here, youngster, if you're going to remember every rough word
+you hear at Garside, you'll have to have a very good memory. So take my
+advice, forget all the things that aren't worth remembering, and
+remember only those that are. The jibe that fell from Newall isn't worth
+remembering. It's one of the things to forget. Promise me that you'll
+forget it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try, as you ask me," said the boy sincerely, "though it'll be
+jolly hard. Things worth remembering! Yes, I know of one&mdash;your kindness.
+I shall always remember that."</p>
+
+<p>And before Paul could answer him he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>"A queer little beggar!" thought Paul. "He's got a good heart, though,
+in spite of the queer outside of him. Poor little chap, how lonely he
+seems!"</p>
+
+<p>Paul was more anxious than he had been for a long time for school to
+begin that day. It seemed for the sole purpose of thwarting him that it
+commenced later instead of earlier. Instead of commencing at the usual
+hour only one of the masters out of the six entered as the clock struck
+nine. Ten minutes elapsed, and still no masters. The boys commenced
+talking in whispers. What had happened? Something was wrong. An accident
+must have happened. Or could it be that the illness of the Head had
+taken a turn for the worse?</p>
+
+<p>Paul feared that the absence of the masters must be in some way due to
+Stanley. Perhaps they had discovered the visit he&mdash;Paul&mdash;had paid him in
+the night. Perhaps they were discussing what was to be done with him.
+These and a hundred other suspicions flashed through his mind as he
+waited the entrance of the masters.</p>
+
+<p>The hubbub in the school had grown louder. The boys no longer talked in
+whispers; their tongues were wagging loudly. Mr. Travers, the master in
+charge, made no effort to restrain them. He was himself talking to one
+of the Sixth Form boys.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, however, he broke off, and pressed the bell.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>In an instant the hubbub of voices ceased, as the door opened and the
+masters, headed by Mr. Weevil, entered the room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>TORN FROM THE BLACK BOOK</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil came to his desk. The other masters took up their positions
+at the head of the different forms. Mr. Weevil half closed his eyes for
+an instant; then, opening them, fixed them fully upon the eager boys
+before him as he said:</p>
+
+<p>"I have a few words to say to you before work commences, boys, and I
+regret to say they are not of a very pleasant character. A most
+discreditable act&mdash;a criminal act&mdash;has been committed since we last met
+in this hall. This desk"&mdash;he turned from the boys to the desk, and
+brought his hand down upon it sharply&mdash;"has been forced open during the
+night, and five pages torn from the Black Book. That is not all. Admiral
+Talbot&mdash;one of the esteemed governors of this school&mdash;has offered a
+valuable prize, as you are all aware, for the best essay on 'The
+Invasion of Great Britain.' I have taken a great interest in the
+subject, and had prepared a few notes, together with a rough plan of the
+attempt made by the Dutch under Admiral Tromp to reach these shores.
+Those notes have gone."</p>
+
+<p>The boys glanced from one to the other as Mr. Weevil paused. Who was
+guilty? They had no great love for the Black Book, for in the pages of
+that black-bound ledger were entered the names of every culprit who had
+been guilty of breaking the rules and had received punishment at the
+hands of the masters. It could be brought forward at any time in
+evidence against them. They would willingly have stood by and seen it
+burnt, but forcing open the master's desk, stealing from it important
+papers, and tearing leaves from the dreaded book was another matter. It
+was theft&mdash;theft, too, under its worst guise, for the desk had been
+opened at night-time, when the rest of the school were supposed to be
+sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>"The last entry I made in this book," went on Mr. Weevil, holding up the
+Black Book, "was last evening, immediately after school was over. I had
+entered in it the reason of my sending Moncrief to Dormitory X. Before
+returning the book to its place, I glanced through my notes; then placed
+the book on top of them, and locked the desk. I entered the room about
+half-past eight this morning, and, on going to my desk, at once found
+that it had been opened&mdash;for what despicable purpose I have explained to
+you. In the absence of Dr. Colville, I consulted with my
+colleagues&mdash;your masters. That is the reason why the school has not
+commenced at the usual hour. We have looked at the matter in every way,
+and can only come to the conclusion that some one amongst you has been
+guilty of this petty felony. The culprit is pretty well sure to be found
+out in the long run, so that it will be much better for him to speak up
+now. The longer he keeps silent, the heavier will be his punishment.
+Now, then, I am waiting."</p>
+
+<p>Deep silence fell upon the school. Still, the boys glanced from one to
+the other. Parfitt flashed a look along the form to where Paul was
+sitting. Baldry quietly pinched Plunger, and Plunger returned the
+compliment by kicking him under the form; but no word broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>Failing to get an answer to his appeal, Mr. Weevil tried another plan.</p>
+
+<p>"Did any boy leave his dormitory after lights were out last night?"</p>
+
+<p>A struggle went on in Paul's breast for a moment. Should he speak, or
+should he remain silent? If he spoke he would bring upon himself the
+terrible suspicion that he had broken open the master's desk, and had
+torn out the leaves in which were recorded the punishment of Stanley
+Moncrief. It was well known also that he was one of the competitors for
+the essay prize.</p>
+
+<p>And then if he confessed the real reason of his absence from his
+dormitory, who would believe him? Certainly not Mr. Weevil. How could he
+convince him that he was in Dormitory X that night, for had he not
+crawled under the bed at the time he looked in? Should he speak&mdash;should
+he speak? Again and again Paul asked himself the question. Why should
+he? What had his absence from his dormitory to do with the theft from
+the master's desk? He had been nowhere near the master's desk, so what
+was the use of speaking? Looking up, he caught the glance of Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"What the deuce is Parfitt glaring at me for?" he thought. "Is it
+possible that he could have seen me leave the dormitory?"</p>
+
+<p>As he put to himself the question, the voice of Mr. Weevil once more
+broke the silence:</p>
+
+<p>"Does any boy know whether any of his companions was absent from his
+dormitory last night? Don't let him keep silent under any false notion
+of honour. It is for the honour of the school that he should speak. If
+he speaks, I will take care that no punishment falls upon him."</p>
+
+<p>Paul sat rigid as stone. If Parfitt saw him leave the dormitory, now was
+his time to speak; but no voice broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; I had hoped that the culprit would own up to his fault, or
+that we should have had assistance from some of you to find him out. I
+am disappointed in my expectation. As I have been unable to find the
+culprit with your assistance, I must do so without it. And be sure I
+will," added Mr. Weevil firmly.</p>
+
+<p>Prayers were said and a hymn sung, and the boys were on the point of
+filing out to the different class-rooms, when Newall stepped up to Mr.
+Weevil's desk.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope Moncrief isn't to be kept in Dormitory X any longer, sir," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"What's it to do with you&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"You forget, sir. I was in the row. I ought to have spoken at the time;
+it was I really started the row&mdash;not Moncrief."</p>
+
+<p>"You, was it? Let me hear how it all happened."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was chaffing a new boy, and the new boy happened to be
+Moncrief's cousin. It upset Moncrief, and I ought to have left off; but
+I didn't. I kept it up, and that's how it was Moncrief came to strike
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's very honourable of you to own up to it. If every boy in the
+school was as honest as you, Newall, we should soon find out who was the
+culprit who went to my desk. Moncrief was guilty of a Quixotic act of
+disobedience, as it turns out, and I think, in the circumstances he has
+been sufficiently punished. It is due to you that he is released."</p>
+
+<p>Newall was quite the hero of the school that morning. He had done a
+manly thing in speaking up for Moncrief. That was the general opinion.
+Paul thought the same. He had scarcely expected Newall would act up to
+the promise that he had given him, but he had carried it out to the
+letter. He had, somehow, never liked him, but he couldn't be such a bad
+sort of fellow, after all.</p>
+
+<p>"I must try to get over my prejudice against him," he thought.</p>
+
+<p>So Stanley came back to his form, looking none the worse for the night
+he had spent in Dormitory X.</p>
+
+<p>It was not, however, till he and Paul were in the grounds that they had
+the chance of speaking together.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought Weevil meant keeping me in that wretched dormitory another
+day and night," Stanley said, as Paul cordially greeted him. "How did he
+come to let me out, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Guess."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you been speaking up for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; Mr. Weevil wouldn't listen to me yesterday, and he wouldn't have
+listened this morning. Guess again."</p>
+
+<p>"My young cousin, I suppose," answered Stanley, after a moment's
+reflection. "Has he been crying to Weevil?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wrong again."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, bother! I give it up, then! Who was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You would never guess. Newall!"</p>
+
+<p>"What?" Stanley stared at Paul incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>"Fact&mdash;Newall. And he did it very well, too. He owned up frankly before
+the masters and all the school that it was he who commenced the
+quarrel."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I thought he told you that he wouldn't speak?"</p>
+
+<p>"So he did; but he has altered his mind, you see. He told me he was
+going to speak, but I couldn't believe my ears till I actually heard
+him. A night's reflection has done him good, though he hadn't the
+benefit of a change of air in Dormitory X. It's really very decent of
+him, and I rather fancy if I were in your place&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He paused, as though reflecting on what he should do if he were in
+Stanley's place.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you were in my place&mdash;go on."</p>
+
+<p>"I should go up to Newall and shake hands with him."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you really?" said Stanley haltingly. "I&mdash;I&mdash;don't think I can do
+that, Paul. There's so much bad blood between us."</p>
+
+<p>"All the more reason you should shake hands. It's wonderful what a shake
+of the hands does for bad blood. It's the finest leech in the
+world&mdash;takes all the bad blood out."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you're a better fellow than I am, and can do that sort of thing. I
+can't!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense! It's like a plunge into cold water&mdash;quite nice when the
+plunge is once made. Come along! I'll go with you."</p>
+
+<p>He tucked his arm in Stanley's, and together they went in search of
+Newall. They found him with Parfitt and another companion. Stanley
+walked up to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear that it's through you, Newall, I've got out of that den I was in
+last night. You've done me a good turn, and, if&mdash;if&mdash;you don't mind, I'd
+like to shake hands with you."</p>
+
+<p>He held out his hand as he spoke, but Newall took no notice of it. He
+looked straight at Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"I really didn't know that I'd done you a good turn. What was the good
+turn?"</p>
+
+<p>"Speaking up for me this morning to Mr. Weevil, and getting me out of
+that wretched dormitory."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that"&mdash;he broke into a mocking laugh&mdash;"that! You call that a good
+turn?"</p>
+
+<p>A wave of scarlet came to Stanley's face. The extended hand fell to his
+side. He looked to Paul. Had his friend deceived him? Was this only a
+ruse on his part to make him shake hands with Newall, or had Newall
+taken leave of his senses? He could learn nothing from Paul's face,
+except that it looked just as mystified as he was.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly it was a good turn. I thoroughly upset Weevil yesterday, and
+goodness knows how much longer he would have kept me a prisoner if you
+hadn't spoken up for me, as Percival here tells me you did."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course he did," put in Paul cheerfully. "He spoke up to Weevil like
+a brick. It's no use trying to hide your light under a bushel, Newall."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it's true enough I spoke up to Weevil"&mdash;the mocking laughter had
+died out of Newall's eyes, and there was now a cruel, vindictive light
+in them, just as there had been when Paul had spoken to him the day
+before&mdash;"and it's true enough I wanted to get you out of that hole in
+the roof. But it wasn't to shake hands with you. Not at all. I got you
+out of that den so that I might meet you squarely face to face."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley began to understand. It was not from any kindly motive Newall
+had spoken up for him that morning. The bitterness of his words now told
+him that, and the vindictiveness in his eyes spoke even plainer than
+speech. Paul had been deceived, and he had been deceived. Why had he
+demeaned himself by asking a fellow like Newall to shake hands with him?
+He ought to have known better from past experience.</p>
+
+<p>"You understand?" went on Newall in the same bitter tone. "Oh, yes, I
+see you do. You struck me a blow. The marks of it are still here, you
+see"&mdash;pointing to his lip, which was discoloured and cut. "I'm glad of
+it. It kept me awake last night, thinking of you. And when I looked at
+myself in the glass this morning, I thought of you again. It's nice to
+have a memento of your friends, don't you think so?"</p>
+
+<p>Stanley did not answer. What answer was possible to these mocking jibes?
+Paul was silent, too. All power of speech seemed taken from him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I mean having that blow back&mdash;the cowardly blow you gave me over
+Percival's shoulder. I could give it to you now"&mdash;his fist was clenched
+as though he would have dearly liked to make good his words&mdash;"but that
+would only mean that one or the other would be sent to the den from
+which I've just rescued you. That would be idiotic and make matters
+worse."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean to say that you don't wish to end the quarrel between us. You
+wish to fight it out to the bitter end?" demanded Stanley, at last
+finding voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You've got it!" came the slow, firm answer&mdash;"to the bitter end!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>FOR THE HONOUR OF THE FORM</h3>
+
+
+<p>Paul was grieved at the turn things had taken. Just at the moment when
+he thought the quarrel ended it had burst out again in a deadlier form.
+Stanley was very pale. His hands were clenched, as were the hands of
+Newall, and the passion that distorted the one face was reflected in a
+lesser degree in the other. Hate never was, and never will be, a
+beautifier of the face. Like some subtle acid, it makes ugly lines. You
+will never see those lines in a beautiful or noble face, boys and girls.
+So, if you want to keep from getting ugly, never hate.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley was not only angry at the jibes of Newall, but angry at being
+led into a false position.</p>
+
+<p>"I really had no wish to shake hands with you. I'm just as keen on
+fighting it out as you are," he began.</p>
+
+<p>"One minute," interrupted Paul, stepping between them. "Let me have a
+word."</p>
+
+<p>"You get out of it, and speak when you're spoken to!" cried Newall
+roughly. "It was through you coming between us that I got this
+beauty-spot yesterday"&mdash;pointing to his swollen lip. "Hadn't you poked
+your nose in where it wasn't wanted this wouldn't have happened, and I
+would have given a good account of myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry, and yet, come to think of it, I'm rather glad," answered Paul
+calmly, and not receding an inch from the position he had taken up.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad! How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, if it was through me you got that blow, your quarrel's with me,
+and not Moncrief. What's the use of trying to pay back to him what you
+owe to me?"</p>
+
+<p>This was a novel way of looking at the dispute which had not occurred to
+Newall. As he was not ready with an answer, Paul went on:</p>
+
+<p>"Besides, it was you who got me to speak to Moncrief on&mdash;excuse me
+saying so&mdash;false pretences. I thought you wanted to end the quarrel, to
+shake hands with him, and have done with it. It wasn't shaking hands you
+wanted, it seems, but clenched fists. I brought him here on a fool's
+errand; so the quarrel's mine, not his."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley wished to step in again, but Paul gently yet firmly held his
+ground.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand quite what you're driving at," said Newall. "It's a
+bit of a riddle; but if you want a thrashing as well as your friend, I
+dare say you can be obliged, but he comes first. Let him speak for
+himself. You can speak for yourself after. Now, Moncrief, no more
+shirking."</p>
+
+<p>"It's my quarrel, I say," Paul answered in the same firm tone, and still
+keeping Stanley back. "Of course, you think different, and Moncrief here
+thinks different, so let's appeal to the Form."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" cried Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Appeal to the Form. The fellows will see things clearer than we can."</p>
+
+<p>The suggestion took Newall's breath away.</p>
+
+<p>"You really mean it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I really mean it."</p>
+
+<p>Newall thought a moment. An appeal to the Form was altogether a new
+thing, but as he had not the slightest doubt as to which way they would
+decide, why should he not fall in with it?</p>
+
+<p>"Does Moncrief agree to that?" Stanley nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; let it be as you say, Percival&mdash;an appeal to the Form."</p>
+
+<p>Paul, gratified that the quarrel had received a momentary check, was
+turning away with Stanley, when Parfitt, who had scarcely spoken
+throughout the scene, touched him on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"One minute. Just a little word with you."</p>
+
+<p>He used in effect the same words as Paul had used when he stood between
+Newall and Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you find it rather cold in the corridor last night&mdash;eh?" he
+asked, with a meaning smile.</p>
+
+<p>Before Paul could answer, Parfitt followed in the footsteps of Newall.</p>
+
+<p>Cold in the corridor last night? What did Parfitt mean? The instant Paul
+put to himself the question the answer came to him&mdash;Parfitt must have
+seen him leave the dormitory in the night. Was there anything else in
+his question? Yes, he felt sure there was something behind it.</p>
+
+<p>"What was it, Paul? What did he want with you?" asked Stanley, coming up
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>"He wanted to know whether I was in the corridor last night. I thought
+all the fellows were asleep, but he must have been awake, playing the
+spy."</p>
+
+<p>"What of it? You're not the first fellow who's been in the corridor
+after 'lights out' by long chalks."</p>
+
+<p>"It was not that&mdash;it was not being in the corridor, and Parfitt knowing
+it&mdash;troubles me. But there's something else&mdash;much worse&mdash;a beastly
+insinuation. Phew!"</p>
+
+<p>The air seemed to have suddenly grown oppressive to Paul. He was no
+longer the calm, cool, self-reliant fellow who had stood between Stanley
+and Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Beastly insinuation! What?"</p>
+
+<p>"You do not know what has happened. While I was with you in Dormitory X
+some one entered the big hall, broke open Weevil's desk, took out the
+Black Book, and tore from it the last five pages. That wasn't all. The
+culprit, whoever he was, took away some rough notes and plans Weevil had
+made on the subject of the prize essay, 'The Invasion of Great Britain.'
+Well, do you see now what Parfitt means to insinuate? He means to
+insinuate that I am the culprit&mdash;that I was the one who broke open Mr.
+Weevil's desk, tore the leaves from the Black Book, and stole the
+master's notes."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; it can't be!" exclaimed Stanley, aghast.</p>
+
+<p>"It can be, and is; I am sure of it. That is the reason why Parfitt
+called me aside in such a mysterious manner."</p>
+
+<p>"The mean cad! But supposing he does wish to insinuate such a dastardly
+thing, you've an easy answer. Are you forgetting what you said just
+now&mdash;you were with me last night in Dormitory X?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not forgetting, Stan. It's you. Supposing I confessed what actually
+happened&mdash;that I was with you, and did not go near the master's desk
+last night; and supposing you said exactly the same thing&mdash;what then?
+You forget what happened. Mr. Weevil looked in the dormitory, you
+remember; looked round the dormitory, you remember, and spoke to you. He
+saw nothing of me, because I was hiding. If I said that I was in
+Dormitory X last night, therefore, the master himself would accuse me of
+falsehood; and he would have the same answer for you if you backed me
+up."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley did not at once answer. He could now see clearly enough the
+false position in which his friend had been placed in coming to share
+with him in his punishment. But he could only see the chivalry of it. He
+did not see that the step, chivalrous though it might be, had been a
+wrong step, and was bringing in its train the consequences of
+wrong-doing.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Weevil questioned the school this morning before you returned,"
+Paul went on. "'Had any one left his dormitory during the night?' he
+asked. Perhaps I ought to have spoken then; but I let the chance go."</p>
+
+<p>"And Parfitt did not speak?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; but I can see plainly enough now that it wasn't out of any kindness
+to me. He kept quiet so that he should hold the secret over me like a
+whip. He gave me the first taste of the thong just now, and&mdash;and&mdash;it
+cuts into a fellow."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley could see the pain in Paul's face, as though he could feel the
+thong descending upon his shoulders at that moment. He, too, could feel
+something of the same pain. His head fell to his breast. He blamed
+himself for having been the cause of all this misery. But suddenly he
+looked up again, and his face brightened.</p>
+
+<p>"The game's ours!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"You twitted me just now about forgetting things, but we've both
+forgotten something&mdash;Weevil and Zuker. You've forgotten what you saw in
+the master's room when you came to me last night."</p>
+
+<p>"Supposing I had; how does that help?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cannot you see?" went on Stanley, quite excited. "Let's put our heads
+together for a moment and work it out. Supposing you go to Weevil and
+tell him straight out that you weren't in your dorm last night, but with
+me. He contradicts you point-blank. 'You could not have been with
+Moncrief, because I looked in at his dormitory at midnight and saw that
+no one else was there.' Then you bring forward your next piece, and cry,
+'I think I can prove to you, sir, that I was in Dormitory X last night.'
+'Your proof, quick!' 'My proof is that as I was passing by your room I
+happened to glance in at the window, and saw you with another
+gentleman&mdash;ahem!&mdash;looking over some papers.' Check! You have the master
+on toast, Paul. The case for the defence will be clear. Do you follow
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul did not answer. He saw that this was one solution of the problem;
+but he was not certain that it was the best.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what are you thinking about, old chap? Your face is as long as a
+fiddle."</p>
+
+<p>"Your suggestion is a good one, Stan," answered Paul slowly, as though
+he were still following his thoughts; "but I don't think that I'll act
+upon it&mdash;just yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let's work my reasons out as you worked yours&mdash;shall we? Reason number
+one: We have cause to be suspicious of Mr. Weevil, the master in charge
+of this school during the absence of the Head. Heaven grant that our
+suspicions may be wrong, but we have reason to suppose that he is in
+league with a traitor. Am I clear, Stan?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite."</p>
+
+<p>"Reason number two: If I told Mr. Weevil what I saw through his window
+on my way to you I might clear myself, but it would at once put him on
+his guard, and we should never have another chance of proving whether
+our suspicions are true or false. Is that clear, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, thirdly and lastly: Don't you think it will be better to keep
+what we know up our sleeves for the present, in view of what may come
+after?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're right, Paul, as you always are!" exclaimed Stanley
+enthusiastically.</p>
+
+<p>"No, old fellow, there is only One who is always right," answered Paul
+earnestly. "We're always patting ourselves on the back and fancying
+ourselves mighty clever; but we're not. We're asses&mdash;always slipping and
+tumbling about, and when not doing that, running down the wrong road and
+butting our stupid heads against posts or walls. Asses, all of us&mdash;some
+big, some little."</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you come in, Paul?" laughed Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"Amongst the mediums," Paul laughed back; but as he turned towards the
+school his face grew grave again. He had tried to reason things out, but
+the way before him did not seem so clear as he could have wished. There
+were pitfalls before him, into one of which he might stumble at any
+moment. And as he thought there came to him the lines of a hymn he had
+often heard his mother sing:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Lord, bring me to resign<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My doubting heart to Thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, whether cheerful or distressed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thine, Thine alone to be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My only aim be this&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy purpose to fulfil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Thee rejoice with all my strength,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And do Thy Holy will."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Entering the school, he sought out Hasluck, head of the Fifth. He was a
+quiet, studious boy, with glasses. He did not take a very prominent part
+in the sports, but none the less he was keen on the honour of his form,
+inside or outside the school.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to call a meeting of the Form, Hasluck&mdash;to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"What about?"</p>
+
+<p>"A little matter between Newall, Moncrief, and me. It touches the honour
+of the Form."</p>
+
+<p>And Hasluck at once consented.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE FORUM</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Meeting of the Fifth in the Forum."</p>
+
+<p>The whisper had travelled from form to form, and, as invariably
+happened, conjecture was busy as to what the meeting of the Fifth could
+be for.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a breach-of-promise case they've got on!" said Freddy Plunger
+confidentially to half a dozen members of the Third who had been
+discussing the event.</p>
+
+<p>"Breach of promise?" repeated Baldry. "None of your gammon, Freddy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Fact! Haven't you heard? One of the freshers has been making desperate
+love to the matron&mdash;giving her his portrait, with his love, and that
+sort of thing. You wouldn't wonder at it from an old stager like you,
+Baldry, or Sedgeley; but from a fresher&mdash;well, it's awful, isn't it?
+What's the school coming to&mdash;that's what I should like to know?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry Moncrief blushed to the roots of his hair as the boys standing
+round Plunger turned to him and tittered.</p>
+
+<p>"What are the damages?"</p>
+
+<p>"A broken topper, a pair of plaids, a white waistcoat, and spats over
+patents."</p>
+
+<p>More titters, and more glances in the direction of Harry. He knew well
+enough that this reference on Plunger's part was meant for him to the
+costume with which he had adorned himself on his coming to Garside.</p>
+
+<p>"Plunger's been crowing it over me ever since I came here. I shall have
+to take it out of him," he thought.</p>
+
+<p>The outburst of laughter that followed did not mend matters. So he
+hastened away, in no pleasant mood, without any regard to whither he
+was going. He came to a stop when he reached the cricketing-shed, in the
+playing-fields adjoining the school. It was this shed which was known as
+"The Forum." Here it was that the meeting of the Fifth was to be held.</p>
+
+<p>Harry stopped and regarded it with some interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Stan will be at the meeting, I suppose, and Paul Percival. Wouldn't I
+like to know what it's all about!"</p>
+
+<p>He had an uncomfortable feeling that things weren't going quite smoothly
+with his cousin and Paul Percival. Bit by bit the glamour with which he
+had viewed the school was wearing off. He no longer regarded it through
+rose-coloured glasses. Plunger had lorded it over him and made fun of
+him; his cousin and Paul, whom he had expected to find on the same
+footing as himself, might have been in a different world, so great was
+the difference between the upper and lower forms.</p>
+
+<p>The dormitory, to which he had looked forward with still greater
+pleasure, had proved a delusion and a snare. Often, in the bitterness of
+his experience in the dormitory, had he wished himself back in his warm
+and comfortable bed at home. He did not see&mdash;did not understand that the
+trials upon which he was entering were just those which were moulding
+him for the future. They were to test and try him, as they had tested
+and tried many others before him.</p>
+
+<p>Some of you who read this may be going through the same experience as
+Harry Moncrief. Remember, rough as the experience may be, it goes to
+make the man in you, and it depends upon you whether you come from these
+trials dross or pure gold.</p>
+
+<p>By the side of the shed where Harry was standing there was a window,
+thick with dust. Harry tried to look through the window, but, failing in
+this, his forefinger went idly to work on the dust. Bit by bit he traced
+out a face and head, almost without knowing it, for he had been thinking
+of the meeting that was to take place in the shed rather than of his
+sketch.</p>
+
+<p>"My, it isn't at all bad!" he cried, standing back a pace and admiring
+his handiwork when he had finished it. "If I'd really tried, I couldn't
+have done it so well. Perhaps the nose doesn't stick up enough, but it's
+got the right cut about it."</p>
+
+<p>Harry was about to rub out the sketch, when he paused, as though
+reluctant to rub out such a masterpiece.</p>
+
+<p>"'Pon my word, it's rather good! I wonder if anybody would know who it's
+meant for? I don't suppose anybody will. I've a jolly good mind to leave
+it!"</p>
+
+<p>He pronounced the last words with emphasis, turned on his heels, and
+walked away.</p>
+
+<p>Now it so happened that after Plunger and his companions had enjoyed
+their laugh at the expense of Harry, their attention went back again to
+the one absorbing topic of conversation&mdash;the meeting of the Fifth.</p>
+
+<p>"Shouldn't I like to be there!" said Plunger, his curiosity growing as
+the time for the meeting advanced. "I would like to know what's in the
+wind! Is it about the Black Book, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"What's that to do with the Fifth any more than the rest of us?"
+remarked Sedgeley.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the Fifth always put a lot of side on, and like to cock it over
+us!" retorted Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll be just the same, Freddy, when you're sent up&mdash;if ever you are
+sent up," remarked Baldry. "Sour grapes!"</p>
+
+<p>"Shut up, Baldhead!" retorted Plunger hotly. "I never want to get
+amongst the Fifth bounders. It's that keeps me back. I could have got up
+in the Fourth at last exam., only I said to myself: 'No; it takes me one
+form nearer the Fifth bounders.'" He paused for a moment, then added:
+"All the same, I would like to know what they're going to gas about in
+the Forum. P'r'aps it's about us&mdash;p'r'aps they mean sitting on us a lot
+more than they do now."</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps!" repeated Sedgeley and Baldry reflectively.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I've a good mind to try. Why should the Fifth have it all to
+themselves? If&mdash;if I could only steal a march on them!"</p>
+
+<p>"If you only could, Freddy!" remarked Sedgeley encouragingly.</p>
+
+<p>For the next few minutes there was some whispering together, and the end
+of it was that Plunger and his companions strolled in the same direction
+as that Harry Moncrief had strolled in a quarter of an hour or so
+before.</p>
+
+<p>On arriving at the shed, they reconnoitred around it, uncertain as to
+whether or not anybody was within.</p>
+
+<p>Sedgeley happened by chance to look through&mdash;or tried to look
+through&mdash;the window on which Harry had left a specimen of his handiwork.</p>
+
+<p>His attention was at once arrested. He regarded the face seriously for a
+moment; then he broke into a shout of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you playing the silly goat for?" demanded Plunger wrathfully
+from somewhere in the rear of the shed.</p>
+
+<p>"Come here, Baldry, Bember, Viner!" exclaimed Sedgeley, vainly
+endeavouring to stifle his laughter.</p>
+
+<p>The three came hurrying up, followed by Plunger, in a violent state of
+agitation.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll spoil all, you braying ass, you laughing hyena, you giddy&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Then he paused, as Baldry, Bember, and Viner, after a glance at the
+pane, burst into laughter also. "What is it, you laughing
+lunatics&mdash;what&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger said no more. His jaw dropped, as, following their gaze, he
+gazed in turn on the window-pane.</p>
+
+<p>"Jolly good likeness, isn't it, Baldry?" Sedgeley at length managed to
+remark.</p>
+
+<p>"My!" cried Baldry, with his hand on his side, as though he'd got a
+stitch in it. "Hold me up!"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't see what there's to laugh at," Plunger at length remarked,
+with a face as red as a turkey-cock's.</p>
+
+<p>"What, don't you see it, Freddy?"</p>
+
+<p>"See what?"</p>
+
+<p>"The likeness&mdash;oh, my side! Don't you know that nose&mdash;that hair. I
+should know 'em anywhere."</p>
+
+<p>Now, Plunger had a very characteristic nose&mdash;it was a combative nose,
+and a decided pug. So was the nose on the window-pane. Plunger's hair,
+too, was peculiar to Plunger. It was wiry, stubborn hair, with a tuft in
+front which resembled the comb of a turkey-cock. The same peculiarity
+was seen in the head on the window. And Plunger's eyebrows had a way of
+mounting to his head, as though they were anxious to get on terms of
+friendship with the tuft above. The same eccentricity was noticeable in
+the eyebrows on the window-pane.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I don't know 'em&mdash;not a bit. Who do you say they're meant for?"
+came in jerks from Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"Who&mdash;who? Oh, dear, oh, dear! Why, they're meant for you, Freddy! It's
+awfully funny, isn't it? I didn't know that your face was so comical!"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger shrugged his shoulders, and affected indifference. He wasn't a
+bit like that caricature. It was only Sedgeley pretended to see the
+likeness, and made the other fellows see it with his eyes. At the same
+time he put out his hand to rub out the sketch. Sedgeley stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>"If it isn't meant for you, Freddy, we may as well see who it is meant
+for."</p>
+
+<p>"Just as you like," answered Plunger, in his most indifferent tone.</p>
+
+<p>Having assured themselves that there was no one inside, three of the
+conspirators&mdash;Sedgeley, Baldry, and Plunger&mdash;entered the shed. A quarter
+of an hour elapsed, then the door opened; but, instead of the three
+figures that entered, only two came out&mdash;Sedgeley and Baldry. All was
+silent within. Plunger had disappeared as completely as though he had
+dropped through the earth.</p>
+
+<p>"All serene?" queried Bember, as the two made their appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"All serene!" came the answer.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>At seven o'clock the Fifth Form began to put in an appearance at the
+shed. Arbery and Leveson were two of the first. They lit a candle, and
+stuck it in a tin candle-stick. Then they rolled out one of the boxes
+that were piled up at the back, placed it lengthwise, so as to form a
+rostrum, and covered it with a baize cloth. On the top of this they
+placed a wooden mallet, used for knocking in the stumps in the
+cricketing season.</p>
+
+<p>"Sounds all right," said Leveson, giving the mallet a flourish over his
+head, and bringing it down sharply on top of the box. "Order&mdash;order for
+the chair!"</p>
+
+<p>Down it came a second time.</p>
+
+<p>"Friends, Romans, and Countrymen&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Drop the cackle, Levy," shouted Arbery, "and give me a hand."</p>
+
+<p>He was pulling out some of the boxes, and Leveson lent him a hand to
+arrange them as seats. It so happened that in one of the most
+dilapidated of these boxes, which had rested for weeks in the darkest
+corner of the shed, Frederick Plunger, Esq. was reposing. It had been
+selected as the most suitable hiding-place by the conspirators. It was
+large and commodious, and there were so many cracks and crannies in the
+worm-eaten, dilapidated lid that there was ample breathing space within.</p>
+
+<p>In this safe hiding-place Plunger had flattered himself that he would be
+able to know all that passed at the meeting of the Fifth. He had not
+calculated on the box being shifted from its dusty, cob-webbed corner.
+But more by chance than design Arbery laid profane hands on it, and
+dragging it out with the rest, turned it over and over, something after
+the style of a porter with the luggage at a railway terminus in the busy
+season.</p>
+
+<p>Bumpety&mdash;bumpety! It seemed to Plunger, so far as he had any sensation
+at all, that he was performing the part of a human catherine-wheel.</p>
+
+<p>"My!" he gasped. "What are the asses doing with the box? I shall be most
+frightfully sick if they don't stop it."</p>
+
+<p>Bumpety&mdash;bumpety&mdash;bumpety!</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh! What an idiot I was to get inside this coffin; it'll be the
+death of me!"</p>
+
+<p>Arbery and Leveson gave another jerk to the box even as Plunger was
+groaning within.</p>
+
+<p>"It&mdash;it&mdash;it's worse than being on the Great Wheel, or on a pleasure boat
+when there's a sea on. Oh, my&mdash;oh dear! When are the silly fellows going
+to stop it?" he moaned.</p>
+
+<p>At last they did stop it, almost beneath the identical window on which
+Moncrief minor had traced Plunger's noble features.</p>
+
+<p>"That's about the ticket, isn't it, Arbery? My, it's hot work! Didn't
+think that old box was so heavy. You'd fancy it was stuffed with lead
+instead of broken bats and rubbish of that sort. Phew!"</p>
+
+<p>Leveson wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; that's the thing. It'll give an extra seat or two, if they're
+wanted."</p>
+
+<p>"My word! They're going to sit on me," groaned Plunger. His groans were
+cut short by a loud outburst of laughter from Arbery.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the lunatic laughing at now?" thought Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold me up, Levy!" Arbery in rising from the box had caught sight of
+the caricature of Plunger on the window, and burst into a fit of
+laughter. "Do you see it&mdash;do you see who it's meant for?"</p>
+
+<p>Leveson, for answer, likewise broke into a peal of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"The other lunatic's going it now," Plunger muttered to himself. "Seems
+to me I've hopped into an asylum instead of a box. There's a screw loose
+in one of 'em. My! Aren't they going it. Wish I could get a peep out of
+this beastly timber yard. I'd like to see what they're grinning at. Hark
+at 'em. They're off again."</p>
+
+<p>At last Leveson stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"See it," he cried. "Who could help it? Jolly good, isn't it? Like the
+young bounder to a T&mdash;the same nose, the same coarse wiry thatch, the
+same eyebrows running away from the forehead into the middle of next
+week."</p>
+
+<p>The perspiration began to ooze from Plunger. He had an uneasy feeling as
+to whom they were referring.</p>
+
+<p>"Young bounder!" he repeated. "Coarse, wiry thatch, eyebrows running
+away from the forehead. Leveson thinks that awfully smart, I s'pose?
+Still it&mdash;it&mdash;must be a bit like."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger had the additional pleasure of hearing more laughter at his
+expense as other scholars of the Fifth entered, and added their
+criticisms to Leveson's. Plunger's ears tingled as they had never
+tingled before, for never before had he heard himself so freely
+criticised. In addition to the not very flattering remarks "the bounders
+of the Fifth" had to pass on his features, Plunger had to listen to
+terse descriptions of himself as "that ass, Plunger," "a mixed pickle,"
+"a queer egg," "conceited young biped," and so on.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger made remarks of his own as these pleasant criticisms reached his
+ears. They were scarcely less vigorous than those descriptive of
+himself, and were fairly divided between "those bounders of the Fifth"
+and "the fellow who had scratched things" on the window. But
+unfortunately Plunger's eloquence was wasted, as neither the "bounders
+of the Fifth" nor "the fellow who scratched things on the window" had
+the advantage of hearing it. His attention was soon turned from himself,
+however, to the proceedings that were taking place in the shed.</p>
+
+<p>There were about twenty in the Fifth. Nineteen put in an appearance.
+Hasluck, as head of the Form, took up his place at the rostrum, while
+most of the others sat on the boxes which had been arranged for their
+convenience by Arbery and Leveson, who were known as M.C.'s&mdash;masters of
+ceremonies&mdash;of the Form.</p>
+
+<p>"All here?" asked Hasluck, after bringing down his mallet on the box
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>"All&mdash;except Moncrief," answered Leveson.</p>
+
+<p>The absence of Moncrief had been noticed with some surprise by the Form,
+by none more than Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he coming, does any one know? If so, we'll wait a little longer."</p>
+
+<p>"No; he isn't coming," answered Paul. "He wanted to; but I persuaded him
+to stop away."</p>
+
+<p>"You persuaded him to stop away," cried Newall. "Why, it's because of
+him we've come here."</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me," answered Paul politely. "It's because of me. At any rate,
+it's for the Form to decide."</p>
+
+<p>"Percival called the Form together. It's for Percival to explain," said
+Hasluck.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll explain as well as I can," said Paul, taking a step forward, and
+glancing round at the faces bent eagerly forward to hear him. "There was
+a slight shindy, as you all know, on the first day of term, between
+Newall and Stanley Moncrief."</p>
+
+<p>"Shindy!" interrupted Newall with a scornful sniff. "Is that all you
+call it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Call it by what name you please; I don't mind," proceeded Paul calmly.
+"Newall baited Moncrief's cousin unmercifully, and Moncrief did what any
+other fellow in the Form worth his salt would have done&mdash;interfered. I
+tried to get between him and Newall to stop the quarrel. You know what
+happened&mdash;Newall was struck."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Newall was struck," repeated Newall grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but after all Moncrief had a good deal the worst of it. He passed
+the night in Dormitory X&mdash;ten times worse punishment than anything
+Newall got; so he more than wiped out the blow he gave in anger to
+Newall."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, stop this humbug," interrupted Newall angrily. "You can see what
+Percival's up to. He's trying to white-wash Moncrief, who's too big a
+funk to come here to defend himself."</p>
+
+<p>There were murmurs of assent from some of those present, who resented
+Moncrief's absence, and who were not favourably inclined to a tame
+ending of the quarrel. The more thoughtful section remained silent.</p>
+
+<p>"It would have been better, I think, for Moncrief to have been here,"
+said Hasluck. And this view was received with applause.</p>
+
+<p>"If there's any blame for that," said Paul quickly, "blame me. As I've
+said, I persuaded him to stay away. With Moncrief here and Newall here,
+it would have been like two barrels of gunpowder. Just a spark,
+and&mdash;phwitt! bang&mdash;where should we all have been? There'd have been
+nothing left of us."</p>
+
+<p>This time Paul carried his audience with him. They were well aware that
+Moncrief was hasty in temper, and that Newall was no less fiery. So they
+smiled at Paul's description of what might probably have happened if the
+two had been present.</p>
+
+<p>"Besides, as I've already pointed out to Newall," continued Paul, "if
+there's a quarrel at all, it lies between me and him."</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff&mdash;gammon&mdash;more humbug!" interrupted Newall angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what you think," said Paul, confronting him steadily for a
+moment. "After all, you only count as one. That's why I've called the
+Form, who count a good deal more, so that they could give their opinion.
+Whatever their opinion is, I'll stand to it."</p>
+
+<p>"You will!" cried Newall. "That's all I want. I know well enough they
+won't let Moncrief wriggle out of it."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you make out that the quarrel has shifted from Moncrief to you,
+Percival?" demanded Hasluck. "I can't quite see it."</p>
+
+<p>More murmurs of assent.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you will when I've finished," said Paul confidently. "Newall
+doesn't see it, naturally, but I think you will. This is how things
+stand. Newall made me believe that he was sorry for the quarrel that had
+taken place between him and Moncrief. On that I tried to do the right
+thing. I got Moncrief to go up to him and offer him his hand. I was
+never more disgusted in my life. Newall pretended not to see it, and
+said insulting things, which I need not repeat. What I say is, that when
+he refused to take Moncrief's hand, he insulted me more than he insulted
+Moncrief; for it was I who brought Moncrief to him, and it was through
+me Moncrief offered him his hand. That is the first point I wish the
+Form to decide."</p>
+
+<p>Paul spoke so earnestly that he carried the Form with him. It appealed
+to their sense of chivalry. Percival had tried to make peace between
+Newall and Moncrief. Failing that, he had turned the quarrel from his
+friend's shoulders to his own.</p>
+
+<p>First one, then the other, supported Paul, and though there was a small
+minority against him, there was no question as to the majority.</p>
+
+<p>"We think Percival right," said Hasluck&mdash;an announcement which was
+received with cheers.</p>
+
+<p>"That only means that the quarrel is between me and Percival," said
+Newall grimly. "I've no objection. I'm not going to kick against the
+decision of the Form." Then, turning to Paul: "You've got to pay me back
+the blow I had from Moncrief. P'raps the Form 'll decide when it's to
+be."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean fighting?"</p>
+
+<p>"What else should I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't. We don't want to waste our energies that way when there's a
+much better way and better work to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Trying to crawl out of it again," came in a sneering aside from
+Parfitt. "Was there ever such a wriggler?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let's hear the better way," said Hasluck; and there were many others in
+the Form, in spite of the sneering remark of Parfitt, who were equally
+anxious to hear what "the better way" could be.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a shadow resting upon the school&mdash;resting upon every one of
+us," said Paul solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>"What shadow are you talking about?" asked Hasluck.</p>
+
+<p>"The leaves from the Black Book&mdash;the stolen papers from Mr. Weevil's
+desk," said Paul. "Until the thief is found out, suspicion rests upon
+every boy in the Form&mdash;upon every boy in the school. What I suggest is,
+that we leave off fighting till we've found out who the thief is. I
+don't want to preach, but I think that will be a great deal more to our
+honour and the honour of our school."</p>
+
+<p>Paul paused. "If Parfitt has anything to accuse me of, now will be his
+time," he thought.</p>
+
+<p>He had not to wait long. Parfitt did speak, but scarcely in the way he
+had anticipated.</p>
+
+<p>"Honour of the school!" he cried. "Anybody would think that Percival's
+the only one who cares for it. Let him take care of his own honour
+first, and the honour of the school will take care of itself."</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt's pointed remark was loudly applauded. Paul saw that he was
+likely to be defeated unless he could make a stronger appeal to the
+sympathies of the Form.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that my honour's questioned," he answered promptly. "Who
+questions it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do," retorted Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"And I," added Newall.</p>
+
+<p>Before Paul could answer, there was a knock on the door of the shed. It
+so startled Devey&mdash;a heavy, thick-set boy&mdash;that he over-balanced himself,
+and came with a crash on the box in which Plunger was hidden. Plunger
+had been so interested in the proceedings of the Fifth that he had
+lifted the lid in the slightest possible degree so that he might the
+better hear what was going on. When Devey came crashing on the box,
+Plunger thought for the moment that his head had gone from his
+shoulders. And then as Devey, not quite recovered from his fall,
+continued to sit upon the lid, he thought he would be suffocated.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Leveson went to the door, and demanded: "Who's there?"</p>
+
+<p>"A Beetle," came the answer.</p>
+
+<p>"A Beetle! What does he want?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's got a challenge for the Fifth."</p>
+
+<p>"A challenge for the Fifth! Oh, very kind of him!" Then, turning to
+Hasluck, "Shall I let him in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather. Let's hear what the sport is."</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon Leveson opened the door. Three boys were standing without&mdash;two
+of them belonging to the school, and the third, who stood between them,
+one of the much-despised Beetles&mdash;in other words, a pupil of the rival
+school at St. Bede's.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>A CHALLENGE FROM ST. BEDE'S</h3>
+
+
+<p>The two boys who entered with the "Beetle" were Baldry and Sedgefield,
+the companions of Plunger. The Beetle was a sturdy, but rather
+heavy-featured, boy of fourteen. He wore the St. Bede's cap&mdash;dark cloth
+with a white shield in front, on which were worked in old English
+letters, "St. B.," while beneath these were three Roman capitals&mdash;"S. S.
+V.," the initials of the school motto, "Suis stet viribus"&mdash;"He stands
+on his merit."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's Mellor," came the cry, so soon as the face of the boy from
+St. Bede's could be clearly seen.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, it was Mellor, till recently a pupil at Garside, and formerly an
+occupant of the dormitory in which Harry Moncrief, Baldry and the others
+slept. He had left Garside last term, and, much to the disgust of his
+former associates, had entered as a pupil of St. Bede's. The fact was
+that it was not so much Mellor's work as his father's. Mellor was good
+at sport, but not quite as keen on learning, so that he had remained for
+two years in the same form along with boys who were much younger than
+himself. Mellor, of course, put it down to the school, and not to any
+lack of diligence on his part. His father fell in with the view of his
+son, believing him to be a "clever boy&mdash;unmistakably clever"&mdash;if the
+cleverness were only brought out. In the hope that this cleverness would
+be brought out, he had been taken from Garside and turned over to St.
+Bede's.</p>
+
+<p>Now the conversion of a "Gargoyle" into a "Beetle" was not an easy
+process. He had to fit himself into new surroundings, new conditions,
+new methods, with new companions. And while these new companions had
+given him a cool reception, his old companions, thinking him fair game
+for ridicule and sport now that he had "gone over to the enemy," had
+determined on giving him a warm reception at the first opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>It so happened that on the third day of Mellor's entrance at St. Bede's
+he chanced to meet Parfitt and a couple of companions of his in the
+Fifth. They had promptly seized on Mellor, and after congratulating him
+with mock gravity on rising to the "dignity of a Beetle," had ended by
+making him crawl on all fours "as a Beetle ought," and, using his back
+as a desk, had finally written this note on a slip of paper&mdash;"Beetle,
+otherwise cockroach&mdash;nocturnal insect, concealing itself in holes during
+the day, and crawling off at the approach of light."</p>
+
+<p>This flattering description they had pinned to Mellor's back, with an
+intimation that he was to crawl back to his brother Beetles as quickly
+as possible or he would be "squashed before he could get to his hole
+again." Mellor, smarting under these indignities, had hastened back to
+St. Bede's and placed the note in the hands of one of the boys belonging
+to the corresponding form to that of his tormentors.</p>
+
+<p>The Fifth had duly considered it, and a day later had despatched an
+answer with Mellor. And this was the answer: "Gargoyle, otherwise
+spout&mdash;receiving things that come from gutters. Meant to frighten people
+by making ugly faces. Good for little else. If the Fifth Form has one
+Gargoyle of any pluck amongst them, he will find a Fifth Form Beetle
+ready to meet him at the sand-pit, Cranstead Common, to-morrow
+afternoon, three sharp."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a challenge," said Hasluck.</p>
+
+<p>"Read it out," came in a chorus.</p>
+
+<p>And Hasluck read it out.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think you've got a lot of cheek to bring a note like that,
+Mellor," remarked Arbery when Hasluck had finished.</p>
+
+<p>"Not half as much as Parfitt had in writing the one he sent by me,"
+retorted Mellor indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"What does it feel like, being a Beetle?" asked Leveson politely.
+"Kitchen stuff's fattening, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"After going about on all fours, don't you find it a bit tricky to stand
+on your hind legs again?" remarked Arbery. "Want a balancing-pole, don't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>Before Mellor could reply, a mysterious gurgling sound came from the
+direction in which Devey was standing.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo, Devey, what's wrong?" demanded Hasluck, as every eye turned in
+his direction.</p>
+
+<p>"Wrong? Nothing wrong! What do you mean?" retorted Devey, quite blushing
+at thus suddenly becoming the object of general attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought you were trying to laugh. Never heard such a screech. Like a
+laughing hyena with the toothache. Don't do it again, there's a good
+chap. It'll get on our nerves."</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't done anything, I tell you," exclaimed the indignant Devey. "I
+didn't laugh."</p>
+
+<p>"It came from your corner. It must have been some of those youngsters of
+the Third eavesdropping outside. Chase 'em away a bit, Arbery."</p>
+
+<p>Arbery, accompanied by Leveson, darted out with the object of giving the
+"youngsters of the Third" a bad time, but after searching around the
+shed, could find no sign of their presence.</p>
+
+<p>"They must have scooted before we could get to them," reported Arbery on
+his return to the shed. "I can guess pretty well who it was&mdash;Plunger and
+his set."</p>
+
+<p>Again that sound from Devey's corner which Hasluck had described as "a
+laughing hyena with the toothache"; and again all eyes went to Devey.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what the dickens are you staring at?" Devey indignantly demanded,
+when he thought that he had borne this scrutiny with enough patience.</p>
+
+<p>"Beetles are bad enough, Devey, without paroquets," remarked Hasluck
+reproachfully. "If you feel bad, you'd better go out. We'll excuse you."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not me, I tell you. I didn't laugh. It came from outside, or the
+roof, or&mdash;or somewhere," protested Devey.</p>
+
+<p>Arbery and Leveson darted out again, with the same result as before. But
+they saw shadows in the distance which they believed to be some of their
+tormentors, and it was decided that they should take up a position
+close to the door, and at once dart out if the sound were repeated.</p>
+
+<p>Devey was, of course, perfectly truthful when he had denied making the
+curious sound which had so startled his companions. Nor had it come from
+the "youngsters of the Third" outside. It came, as the reader has
+guessed, from the box in which Mr. Freddy Plunger was reposing. At
+first, when the heavy weight of Devey had rested on the box, he thought
+that he would have been suffocated. But when, in the excitement caused
+by the unexpected entrance of Mellor with his challenge from St. Bede's,
+Devey had risen with the other fellows, and remained standing, Plunger
+breathed more freely, and began to feel quite light-hearted again.</p>
+
+<p>He felt just as excited as any of those outside at what was happening
+and entered just as thoroughly into the scene, so that when Leveson and
+Arbery began to question Mellor about the peculiarities of "a Beetle,"
+he felt that he must laugh or choke. The result was the curious noise
+which had been put down first to Devey, then to the boys outside. No one
+guessed for a moment that it came from the box before which Devey was
+standing. When the stir caused by this incident had subsided, attention
+was once more turned to Mellor.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mellor, you haven't answered our questions yet," said Parfitt,
+taking up the fire. "What does it feel like to be a Beetle?"</p>
+
+<p>Mellor flamed up the instant Parfitt spoke. It was Parfitt who had set
+upon him and badgered him, and written the note which had stirred up so
+much feeling at St. Bede's against Garside.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a cad and a coward!" he cried hotly. "I don't want to answer you
+or speak to you either."</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt, stung by the boy's words, moved towards him to clutch him by
+the ear. But Paul was quicker, and stood between them.</p>
+
+<p>"Hands off, Parfitt! Mellor's here as a messenger from the Fifth of St.
+Bede's to us, the Fifth of Garside. Don't drag us in the mud! Let's be
+fair! They've sent us a challenge. Let's be polite enough to answer
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Interfering again," sneered Parfitt. "Always poking your nose where it
+isn't wanted!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't get waxy, Parfitt," remonstrated Hasluck. "Percival's quite
+right. It isn't nice perhaps to know that one of our fellows has gone
+over to the Beetles, but there it is. It can't be helped. What's done
+can't very well be undone. Let's be fair, and let's be polite. There,
+I'm with Percival, and so, I think, are the rest of you." ("Hear, hear,
+hear," from the rest, with the exception of Parfitt, who felt rather
+small.) "Shall we send an answer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I knew well enough you'd say 'Yes.' Well, the next point is, what's the
+answer to be?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think there can be only one answer," exclaimed Newall, speaking for
+the first time. "The Fifth Form Gargoyle is quite ready to meet the
+Fifth Form Beetle at the sand-pit, Cranstead Common, to-morrow
+afternoon, three sharp."</p>
+
+<p>At once a cheer broke out in favour of Newall's suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>"As Parfitt wrote the elegant little note which has brought this storm
+upon us, he'd better write the answer," said Hasluck.</p>
+
+<p>This suggestion also met with general approval. Parfitt hesitated, but
+at length wrote the note as dictated by Newall. Hasluck read it out.</p>
+
+<p>"Will it do?" he questioned when he had finished.</p>
+
+<p>"Agreed, agreed!" was the answering shout. Paul alone remained silent.
+His face was unusually grave. He had come there on a peaceful mission,
+and the peaceful mission had ended in a declaration of war.</p>
+
+<p>"There you are, Mellor; take that and give it to your brother Beetles,
+with the compliments and best wishes of the Fifth," he said, as he
+folded up the note and handed it to Mellor. "Now cut!"</p>
+
+<p>"Cut isn't the word," said Arbery, as he opened the door. "Crawl!"</p>
+
+<p>Mellor darted out of the shed with the note, without waiting for any
+further references to the new title conferred upon him.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you eat your words in the sand-pit to-morrow!" he cried as a
+parting shot.</p>
+
+<p>"The cheeky beggar got the last word in anyhow," quoth Arbery as he
+closed the door.</p>
+
+<p>Dead silence followed for a minute or two, then it was broken by
+Hasluck.</p>
+
+<p>"You called us here, Percival," he said, turning to Paul, "to talk over
+the triangular squabble between you and Moncrief and Newall. You don't
+mind us putting that off for a bit? This is the thing we've got to
+settle, this cheeky challenge from the Beetles."</p>
+
+<p>Paul, seeing there was no help for it, nodded assent.</p>
+
+<p>"And you, Newall?"</p>
+
+<p>Newall nodded in turn.</p>
+
+<p>"Good! Well, then, having decided to take up the challenge from St.
+Bede's, the next thing to settle is, who's to be our champion at the
+sand-pit to-morrow?"</p>
+
+<p>No one seemed in a great hurry to answer that question, but at length
+Newall, a curious smile hovering about his lips, said:</p>
+
+<p>"We're all of us anxious for the job, that's the reason we're so silent.
+But I'd like to propose one as our champion who'd do us
+credit&mdash;Percival."</p>
+
+<p>Had a thunderbolt fallen in the shed, the boys of the Fifth could not
+have been more startled than when they heard Paul's name. Was Newall in
+earnest, or was he poking fun? It was hard to tell, for the curious
+smile that had hovered about his lips was there no longer. It had quite
+vanished, and his face was the gravest amongst them.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival!" he repeated with emphasis. "He's done me a lot of honour.
+He's done me the honour of calling you fellows together to settle a
+quarrel between Moncrief and me. He's done me honour in the nice things
+he has said of me. Well, I'd like to do him a little in turn. There
+can't be a greater honour than representing the Fifth as champion of the
+Form. It's one that I'd jump at myself, but after what has taken place,
+after all that Percival has said about the honour of the Form, I can
+only take a back seat. He comes first. So I again say, let Percival be
+our champion."</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding that Paul had rarely been seen in a school fight, it was
+well known amongst his companions that he was a fine athlete and
+perfectly able to take care of himself, so with ready shouts they hailed
+the suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival, Percival, Percival!" resounded on all sides.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CHAMPION OF HIS FORM</h3>
+
+
+<p>Paul, as may be imagined, was as much startled by Newall's proposal that
+he should be the champion of the Form as at the readiness with which it
+was taken up by his class-mates.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Percival"&mdash;the voice of Hasluck broke the silence which had
+followed as they waited eagerly Paul's answer&mdash;"you've heard what Newall
+has said, and what the Form thinks of it. What's your answer?"</p>
+
+<p>A keen struggle went on in Paul's mind as the question came to him. He
+had come there to settle a dispute&mdash;to ward off a meeting between
+Moncrief and Newall. And now, by an adroit move on the latter's part, he
+had been forced to accept or decline a challenge from outside. If he
+refused, he would have to eat his own words about the honour of the
+school; he would be regarded as a contemptible coward; and the quarrel
+between Newall and Moncrief would still remain unsettled. If he
+accepted, he would be held in honour by his Form, and, in fighting its
+battle, he might be able to settle the quarrel between Moncrief and
+Newall. So, coming to a swift decision, he turned to the latter:</p>
+
+<p>"If I fight for the Form, will that settle the quarrel between you and
+Moncrief? Will you shake hands with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," came the prompt answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; then I'll do my best to keep up the honour of the Form at
+the sand-pit to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo&mdash;bravo; hip, hip, hurrah!" cried Devey, jumping on the box in
+which Plunger was concealed, and waving his cap wildly.</p>
+
+<p>The cheers were taken up by most of the Form, but Parfitt, who took no
+part in the cheering, remarked, loud enough for all to hear:</p>
+
+<p>"Seems to me we'd better save our shouting till to-morrow afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"For once I agree with Parfitt," answered Paul calmly. "Keep your
+shouting till to-morrow afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"And even then it may all be on the other side," added Parfitt, with a
+sneer.</p>
+
+<p>"Trust Parfitt for throwing cold water on anything," said Devey, jumping
+down from the box. "He must have been born in a refrigerator."</p>
+
+<p>He gave the box an indignant kick. Plunger shivered. He was glad that
+Devey's foot came on the box instead of on him.</p>
+
+<p>The meeting was over, and the boys went in twos and threes from the shed
+discussing the forthcoming battle in the sand-pit. Plunger, greatly
+excited at all he had heard, was waiting eagerly the moment he could
+emerge from his hiding-place, when he heard Arbery shout:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't all run off without lending a hand. We shall have to get the
+boxes back, and the shed ship-shape. Devey and I can't do all the work."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger groaned. He knew what Arbery's appeal meant. One by one the
+boxes were shifted back to their places; then it came to the turn of the
+box in which Plunger was concealed, and once again he was bumped about
+from side to side till he got painfully mixed ideas as to where he began
+and where he ended&mdash;as to which was his head and which were his feet,
+and whether he would ever be able to stand straight again.</p>
+
+<p>At last the box was rolled back to the corner in which it had previously
+reposed, and Arbery and his assistants followed in the footsteps of
+their companions. When Plunger could gather together his scattered
+senses, he raised the lid of the box and scrambled out.</p>
+
+<p>"My!" he groaned, as he leaned against the side of the shed and felt his
+limbs. "Seems to me I'm all bruises. It's a wonder I've come out alive.
+I'd just like to put the fellow who's been putting my frontispiece on
+that pane inside the box I've come from for half an hour!"</p>
+
+<p>Gradually, however, the worried look on Plunger's face gave place to one
+of satisfaction as he remembered that he was the only one outside the
+Fifth who knew what had taken place at the meeting, and that he alone
+knew what was to take place on the morrow. He had no chance of relating
+to his companions the secret which was burning within him till he
+reached the dormitory that night.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," asked Baldry breathlessly, as soon as lights were out, "how did
+you get on, Freddy? What happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"You'd never guess. There's to be a fight to-morrow between one of the
+Fifth fellows and a Beetle."</p>
+
+<p>Every ear in the dormitory pricked up at this unexpected piece of
+information.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's our fellow?" demanded Sedgefield, breaking the silence which
+followed this announcement.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival."</p>
+
+<p>Baldry gave a prolonged whistle of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"How's that? Why, Percival has always set his back against fighting, and
+all the fellows are saying that it was to keep Moncrief major from
+fighting Newall that he called a meeting of his form."</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say. He seemed to be steering that way till that little
+turncoat, Mellor, came on the scene with a challenge from the Beetles."</p>
+
+<p>"A challenge from the Beetles!" cried Baldry. "Tell us all about it."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger told them all about it. And never had any one more attentive
+listeners than Plunger had as he related to them all that had happened
+at the meeting in the shed. Not the least interested were Harry Moncrief
+and Hibbert.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul going to fight," Harry repeated to himself. "I do so hope he'll
+win!" Then, remembering the words in which his father had once spoken of
+Paul, he added: "Win or lose, I'm certain Paul will bear himself
+bravely."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert closed his eyes in the darkness, and prayed: "Watch over
+Percival&mdash;keep him from harm. For Christ's sake. Amen."</p>
+
+<p>The boy had not forgotten Paul's kindness to him. It stood out as the
+one bright spot in his memory since he had come to Garside. For once he
+was allowed to sleep without pillows being thrown at him, the clothes
+pulled from him by means of a carefully-arranged cord, and playful
+tricks of that sort, of which both he and Harry had been the victims as
+the latest recruits to the dormitory. The great event of the morrow
+caused everything else to be forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>Paul, meantime, had not had a very pleasant time of it. It had been with
+the greatest difficulty he had induced Stanley to stay away from the
+meeting of his form. After the meeting, one or two pointed allusions
+were made to his absence by his class-mates, and to make these cut the
+deeper, he overheard Parfitt say to Devey:</p>
+
+<p>"You were quite right in shouting for Percival. He came out better than
+I thought. It's the other fellow who's so contemptible&mdash;getting his
+friend to call a meeting to white-wash him, and do all the dirty work.
+He'd be hounded out of any decent school."</p>
+
+<p>These remarks were made loud enough for Stanley to hear, and for his
+special benefit. Though he knew well enough that he was "the other
+fellow" referred to, he could not speak. Nevertheless, he felt angry
+with himself for allowing Paul to persuade him to stay away from the
+meeting. Then, from feeling angry with himself, he felt angry with Paul,
+and the reception he gave him on his return was not a very cordial one.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you been saying about me?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing that could harm you," smiled Paul. "It's all right between you
+and Newall. The quarrel's settled."</p>
+
+<p>"But how is it settled? You haven't made me swallow dirt, have you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think not," answered Paul, wounded at the suggestion. "You ought to
+know me better than that."</p>
+
+<p>For the first time there was a rift between the two friends. Paul did
+not tell Stanley what had happened at the meeting, but left him to find
+out. He heard all about it from Waterman&mdash;the easy-going, indolent
+Waterman.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to fight a Beetle, is he?" said Stanley, when Waterman had ended.
+"It was good of him to take my part, but I wish he hadn't let me down
+so."</p>
+
+<p>But when he met Paul in the dormitory that night, he only remembered
+that he was his friend, and that he was going to fight for the honour of
+the Form on the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry I spoke so hastily, Paul," he whispered. "Forgive me."</p>
+
+<p>The next afternoon was a holiday for both Garside and St. Bede's. It was
+for this reason that the challenge had been fixed for that date.
+Cranstead Common was midway between the two schools, and the sand-pit
+was in an open part of the common, where the ground for some little
+distance round was destitute of grass or furze.</p>
+
+<p>The Fifth Form had kept to themselves the fact that an encounter was to
+take place in the sand-pit, for fear it might reach the ear of some of
+the masters, and be stopped. They were not aware that Plunger knew all
+that had transpired at the meeting. Plunger was as loyal to his Form as
+the Fifth were to theirs, and the secret of what was to happen at the
+sand-pit was communicated in confidence to them on the distinct
+understanding that it wasn't to travel farther.</p>
+
+<p>When, therefore, the afternoon came, and the boys of the Fifth set out
+in little parties of three or four to make for the sand-pit, they could
+not understand how it was that little parties of the Third were found to
+be travelling in the same direction. Still more curious were the various
+articles borne by these little bands of stragglers. One group bore a
+football; another shouldered a butterfly net, without regard to the fact
+that butterflies had not been seen for many weeks; a third group
+fishing-rods, and so on.</p>
+
+<p>Freddy Plunger was amongst the anglers. He was talking loudly about his
+achievements at different times with rod and line, when Devey, Arbery,
+and Leveson came up with him.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you fishing for, Plunger?" asked Devey, catching him gently by
+the ear. "Whales?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;eels!" retorted Plunger snappily, having good cause to remember
+Devey the night before. "Slippery things, eels, aren't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not half so slippery as you are, Mr. Plunger. But don't be cheeky."</p>
+
+<p>"Never am, Mr. Devey. That's my fault&mdash;always too polite. Born like it,
+so can't help myself. Where are you going to, Mr. Devey?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's my business, Mr. Plunger. Little boys shouldn't ask
+questions&mdash;they should be seen and not heard. If you have a good catch,
+ask us to supper, won't you? Ta-ta, Plunger!"</p>
+
+<p>And Devey and his companions went on, leaving Plunger and his companions
+chuckling in their sleeves.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Devey thinks himself mighty clever now, but he looked an awful ass
+in the shed last night when all the fellows turned on him for laughing
+like a paroquet," grinned Plunger. "I nearly killed myself trying to
+keep my feelings under. It was enough to make a cat scream. Oh, dear;
+oh, my!"</p>
+
+<p>And Plunger went off at the recollection, till he received a dig in the
+ribs from Baldry which made him gasp.</p>
+
+<p>"Shut up, Freddy; here comes the noble champion of the Fifth! He doesn't
+look over-pleased with himself."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, Paul and Stanley passed them. Baldry was not far wrong.
+Paul was far from pleased with himself. He was going to fight in cold
+blood a boy with whom he personally had no quarrel, and he had not the
+slightest notion who his opponent was. He might be a noble-hearted
+fellow, as much averse to quarrelling and fighting as he was, but
+compelled to fight&mdash;as he had been&mdash;for "the honour of the Form."
+He&mdash;Paul&mdash;had faced danger, and had not shrunk from it; but somehow, he
+shrunk from the encounter before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Look! There's quite a crowd at the sand-pit already," exclaimed
+Stanley, who was a great deal more excited at the coming encounter than
+Paul was.</p>
+
+<p>By this time they had come within sight of the sand-pit. Paul, looking
+up, saw that on one side had gathered most of the boys of the Fifth,
+while on the other side were the boys from St. Bede's.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>WHAT HAPPENED AT THE SAND-PIT</h3>
+
+
+<p>Though the boys of St. Bede's and those of Garside regarded themselves
+as adversaries, to their credit be it said no outbreak of temper had
+resulted from their meeting at the sand-pit. There had been some amount
+of good-humoured chaff bandied to and fro across the pit, but nothing
+more. All were eager for the coming struggle.</p>
+
+<p>A cheer went up from the Garsides directly they caught sight of Paul.
+The Bedes eyed him critically.</p>
+
+<p>"Looks grim enough&mdash;as though he meant business," said one, as Paul
+advanced to the pit.</p>
+
+<p>The cheer of his comrades put fresh life into Paul. His blood, which had
+seemed stagnant, began to race through his veins.</p>
+
+<p>"For the honour of the Form," he said to himself, between his clenched
+teeth, "I must&mdash;I will win!"</p>
+
+<p>As though his comrades wished to give him all the encouragement in their
+power, another cheer went up as he entered the pit, and took up his
+position on the floor of hard-pressed sand below.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the other fellow?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't seem to have turned up yet," said Arbery; "but I don't think
+it's quite time. How goes it, Levy?"</p>
+
+<p>Leveson had a stop-watch and was very proud of it. He usually acted as
+timekeeper at the school sports, when the stop-watch was very much to
+the fore. He prided himself on one thing&mdash;always knowing the right time.
+His was the only watch that kept the right time at Garside&mdash;so, at
+least, Leveson said. To ask Leveson the "correct time" was one of the
+greatest compliments you could pay him. It was a tacit acknowledgment
+that the time kept by Leveson's stop-watch was superior to any other.</p>
+
+<p>"Three minutes eighteen seconds to three," answered Leveson, after
+examining the watch.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we'll make you a present of the seconds," said Arbery. Then he
+shouted across to the Bedes: "I say, Beetles, is that champion of yours
+coming on an ambulance?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; that's coming after," cried a bright-eyed lad named Sterry, from
+the other side, "to take your champion home!"</p>
+
+<p>A loud laugh from the Bedes greeted this retort.</p>
+
+<p>"He scored over you there, Arbery," said indolent Waterman.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had the laughter died away than it was followed by a loud
+cheer.</p>
+
+<p>"Their man's coming at last. What's the time, Levy?"</p>
+
+<p>"One minute thirty secs. to the hour. He's cut it rather fine&mdash;must be a
+cool sort of bounder," answered Leveson. "Hallo, look there! Hang me if
+there isn't Master Plunger and a lot of the howlers from his form."</p>
+
+<p>Arbery looked in the direction indicated. Plunger and his companions
+were lying at full length on the banks of the pit, peering over its
+sides and taking the deepest possible interest in the proceedings below.</p>
+
+<p>"So it is. How did the little beggar get to know what was going on, I
+wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Said he was going eel-fishing. Thought it was a blind," said Devey.
+"Hallo, they're peeling!"</p>
+
+<p>Paul had taken off his coat, and rolled back his sleeves. The champion
+of the other Form could not at first be seen because of the throng which
+had gathered round him, but presently he came from the group that
+surrounded him with his coat off, and his arms bared, just as Paul
+stepped into the ring.</p>
+
+<p>Their eyes met. Paul staggered back, as though he had been struck. The
+youth who stood before him was Gilbert Wyndham, he who had helped him on
+the night he was fleeing from Zuker. Fight him? Impossible! Not though
+his life depended on it!</p>
+
+<p>The excited murmur of voices that followed the two into the ring ceased.
+A strange silence rested on the place, as the two boys confronted each
+other. Then as the two schools were waiting eagerly for the first blow
+to be struck, they saw Paul's hands fall helpless to his side; saw the
+colour go from his face; saw the white lips move. What did it mean? They
+stared in wonder, and the wonder grew as Paul turned away and took his
+coat from Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot fight," he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>With his coat on his arm he hastened from the pit. Then the silence was
+broken by the Bedes. They howled, and jeered and hooted. And above the
+hooting and the jeers there rose the cry:</p>
+
+<p>"The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"</p>
+
+<p>Heedless of the shouting and the jeers, Paul walked swiftly away, as one
+seized with sudden fear. His own Form still remained silent. They might
+have been struck dumb. It was all so strange&mdash;so unexpected.</p>
+
+<p>Then they in turn shouted and jeered after the retreating figure.</p>
+
+<p>Paul heard the shouts. Those from the Bedes made him shiver. These from
+his own Form cut into him like whips.</p>
+
+<p>"They do not understand! How&mdash;how can I tell them?" he murmured as he
+pressed on, anxious to get away from the place as quickly as possible.
+He did not pause till he came in sight of the old flag waving above the
+school. Had he disgraced that flag&mdash;the legacy of a brave soldier? Had
+he dishonoured it? God would be his judge.</p>
+
+<p>He passed three or four boys as he entered the grounds. They knew
+nothing of what had happened at the sand-pit. One boy spoke to him, but
+Paul took no heed of him. He had not heard him. He was as though deaf
+and blind to all around him. He did not pause till he reached one of the
+class-rooms; then his head fell on his arms.</p>
+
+<p>The shouts and jeers followed him, and broke harshly in upon the
+stillness of the room. With startling distinctness he could hear them,
+and the cry went ringing through his brain:</p>
+
+<p>"The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"</p>
+
+<p>Then resting there, with his head bowed on his arms, he searched his
+conscience, and asked himself the question&mdash;"Have I done right?" Had he
+acted as his father would have wished him to act had he been living? Had
+he done right in the sight of God? Yes, he felt confident he had done
+right in refusing to fight Wyndham, though he could not explain to his
+class-mates why he had so acted. That night ride was known only to
+Stanley and him. It was impossible for him to divulge the secret to his
+Form. He must suffer their taunts in silence, trusting that the time
+would soon come when he might speak.</p>
+
+<p>"There's one good thing, old Stan will understand me. I can make it
+clear enough to him. He ought to be here by this time. Why doesn't he
+come?" he asked himself.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to shake off the gloom that oppressed him, but could not. His
+head went to the desk again, and again he heard the yells and hooting of
+the boys at the pit; but the cries seemed fainter.</p>
+
+<p>"Why doesn't Stan come&mdash;why doesn't Stan come?" he kept asking himself.</p>
+
+<p>He rested thus for some time&mdash;how long he knew not&mdash;when he was roused
+by a timid hand resting on his arm, while a gentle voice whispered:
+"Percival."</p>
+
+<p>He looked up quickly. Hibbert was standing beside him, his face, usually
+so pale, was slightly flushed, as the brown eyes turned to Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't disturbed you, have I?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want with me, Hibbert?" Paul asked rather sharply; for he
+did not like the lad breaking in upon him so quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"You looked so wretched and miserable I could not help coming in. You're
+not angry with me, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Angry with you? No; why should I be?" answered Paul, forcing a smile to
+his face at the boy's eager question.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so used to people being angry with me, except you and&mdash;and Mr.
+Weevil."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Weevil! Doesn't he ever get angry with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; he's very good to me."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was rather astonished at this piece of information, knowing that
+Weevil had a reputation for harshness.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad to hear it. He makes it up on the other fellows." Paul's mind
+flitted back to the night when Stanley was sent to Dormitory X. "But why
+aren't you outside, enjoying yourself with your class-mates?"</p>
+
+<p>"They never want me to play with them. I'm no good at their games,"
+answered the boy sadly; "but I've been with some of them this afternoon.
+I was at the&mdash;sand-pit."</p>
+
+<p>He volunteered the information with some hesitation. Paul flushed. What
+had happened would soon be known, then, to every boy in the school.</p>
+
+<p>"We found out what was going to happen in our Form; and so I went with
+the rest to see you&mdash;to see you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Again the boy hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"To see me turn tail and run. Out with it. Don't be afraid of hurting my
+feelings," cried Paul bitterly. "The other fellows won't. You'll hear
+what they'll be calling me presently&mdash;quite a choice collection of
+names&mdash;cur, pariah, coward, and the rest of it."</p>
+
+<p>"No, not coward. I know you couldn't be," said the boy confidently. "Any
+one can see that by looking in your face. I know you had some reason for
+going away. It's that made you so wretched. I knew you would be, and
+so&mdash;and so after waiting a little time to see what would happen, I
+followed after you."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was touched at Hibbert's devotion. In that one moment the boy had
+repaid a hundredfold the little act of kindness he had shown him when he
+first entered the school. He had come to Paul in his loneliness, and had
+brought a ray of sunshine into the gloom that had suddenly sprung up
+around him.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, Hibbert, you're a very good little chap to speak of me as
+you do, and to think of me as you do? I'm a long way off deserving it, I
+can tell you. You waited after I left the sand-pit, you say, to see what
+would happen? What did happen? They kept up the groans for me till they
+were tired, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't speak of it," said the boy, shivering.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't be afraid of giving me pain, I tell you. I'm getting pretty
+tough. After they'd done hooting me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"While they were still hooting you, Moncrief threw off his jacket, and
+leapt into your place."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" cried Paul, starting to his feet, and staring at the boy. "Leapt
+into my place?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, stood up to the Beetle&mdash;the fellow they call Wyndham; then the
+hooting stopped, and our fellows cheered madly, specially when Newall
+came forward and backed up Moncrief major."</p>
+
+<p>"Newall! backed up Moncrief!" repeated Paul, bewildered. "Do you mean to
+say Moncrief fought with Wyndham?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, wildly&mdash;madly."</p>
+
+<p>Paul closed his eyes, shuddering. He could see the two confronting each
+other, and staggering about in the sand-pit. For some moments he could
+not speak, and when his hands came from his face, it was as white as the
+boy's before him.</p>
+
+<p>"And who&mdash;who came off best, Hibbert?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. I&mdash;I could not stop. To see them fighting so made
+me&mdash;made me feel bad all over. I'm not like other boys. And&mdash;and all the
+time I was thinking of you; so I hastened here, and&mdash;and found you."</p>
+
+<p>"They were still fighting as you left?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; but where are you going?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul had seized his cap and turned to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"To see what has happened."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be all over by now; don't go," pleaded the boy.</p>
+
+<p>But Paul was deaf to Hibbert's pleading.</p>
+
+<p>"What have I done&mdash;what have I done?" he asked himself as he rushed into
+the grounds. "Fool&mdash;fool, not to have guessed what would happen!"</p>
+
+<p>Somehow we do rarely guess what will happen. Things which seem so clear
+to us after they have happened are quite hidden from our sight
+beforehand. The best of us grope about in the dark, and stumble blindly
+along as Paul Percival had done.</p>
+
+<p>Paul rushed on&mdash;back&mdash;back to the sand-pit. Suddenly he came to a dead
+stop. The hum of many voices reached his ears. A crowd of boys were
+coming towards him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>"HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A LEPER"</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the midst of the boys coming along the road was Stanley. He was not
+so easy to recognize, for his face was bruised and swollen, and a thin
+streak of scarlet came from a cut near the right eye. He seemed to
+stagger along the road rather than walk, and, what was most strange,
+Newall had one arm through his, as though to support him.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's heart fell. It was true enough what Hibbert had said. A fight had
+taken place, and, judging by appearances, Stanley had had the worst of
+it. For the moment Paul could not move; then, rousing himself, with an
+effort he ran towards Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly he was greeted with a storm of hisses. Stanley turned from him
+with a look on his bruised and swollen face Paul had never seen there
+before. It was a look of repugnance, as though the affection between
+them had suddenly turned to loathing. Then the crowd of boys parted, and
+drawing away from Paul, left him standing there alone&mdash;he might have
+been a leper.</p>
+
+<p>He began to feel indignant against Stanley. He at least ought to have
+known why he had refused to fight Wyndham; and then, as he recalled
+Stanley's bruised face, his indignation vanished. The old tenderness and
+affection for his friend came back in a wave.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did I leave you, Stan&mdash;why did I leave you?"</p>
+
+<p>He reproached himself, and still more bitterly Wyndham. It was Wyndham
+who had done this&mdash;who had bruised and battered Stanley, and raised this
+barrier between them.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to reckon with me some day, Master Wyndham," he said to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>He looked in the direction of Garside. The boys had disappeared from
+sight. How could he get an explanation of what had happened? He would go
+and demand one; but somehow as he turned to the school his feet seemed
+as heavy as lead. For the first time he felt as though he had no right
+there. What was the use of going back when no one wanted him? He had
+made a horrible mess of everything.</p>
+
+<p>Paul felt utterly miserable, as though he would like to flee from
+everything and every one. Then the pale face of little Hibbert rose
+before him, and he heard him speaking again as he had spoken to him in
+the class-room:</p>
+
+<p>"Coward! I know you couldn't be. Any one can see that by looking in your
+face."</p>
+
+<p>There was one at the school, at any rate, who had not lost faith in him.
+And Paul was strengthened by the memory.</p>
+
+<p>Thus thinking, he turned away from the school again, scarcely heeding
+the direction in which he went. Happening to look up, he saw Waterman
+coming along the road towards him. He was strolling along with both
+hands thrust in his pockets in his usual leisurely manner. He was one of
+that class of boys who never seem to have anything to do, and plenty of
+time to do it in.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if he will shun me like the rest?" thought Paul. And then he
+added with a smile: "At any rate he won't run away from me. It'll be too
+much trouble."</p>
+
+<p>As Paul anticipated, Waterman made no attempt to avoid him, but he would
+have passed on without speaking, had not Paul stood directly in his
+pathway.</p>
+
+<p>"You were at the sand-pit this afternoon, Waterman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I was."</p>
+
+<p>"And saw what happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," was the curt answer, and Waterman endeavoured to pass on, but
+Paul still stood in his pathway.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not in a hurry, Watey."</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry!" repeated the boy indignantly, with raised eyebrows, as though
+that were one of the most offensive words Paul could use. "I never fag
+over things, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you can spare me a minute or two. I'll turn back with you, if you
+like."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman neither assented nor dissented. So soon as Paul turned, he kept
+on his way, with both hands in his pockets, as though unconscious of
+Paul's presence.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to know what happened at the pit after I left."</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't you seen any of the other fellows? Why didn't you get them to
+explain? I'm never good at explanations."</p>
+
+<p>"I meant speaking to them, but they booed and hissed at me, like geese."</p>
+
+<p>"Really?" And Waterman's eyebrows went up, as though he marvelled at so
+much unnecessary exertion being expended on Paul. "I don't see the good
+of that, but it's the way some fellows have of showing their feeling.
+And come to think of it, I don't wonder. You cut up badly at the
+sand-pit. I really don't know whether I'm doing quite right in speaking
+to you&mdash;I really don't."</p>
+
+<p>"You can settle that point after. Tell me first what happened at the
+sand-pit, Watey," urged Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Moncrief took your place when you turned tail&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; I've heard that. After&mdash;after&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, unfortunately for Garside, Moncrief got the worst of it. He made
+a very plucky stand, but he wasn't a match for the Beetle&mdash;what's the
+fellow's name?&mdash;Wyndham. Moncrief stood well up to him, but it was no
+good. He was knocked down once or twice, until Newall, who was backing
+him, you know, threw up the sponge. Moncrief would never have given in
+himself. I never saw a fellow look so wretched and miserable as he did
+when, after coming to, they told him it was all over and he had lost.
+But the fellows cheered him for his pluck, and some of the Beetles
+joined in after they had shouted themselves hoarse over their own
+champion, especially that little turncoat, Mellor. He shouted himself
+black in the face."</p>
+
+<p>"Wretched and miserable, you say?" repeated Paul. Brief as Waterman's
+description was, he could picture all that had happened&mdash;he could see
+Stanley reeling under Wyndham's blows, and the climax of it all when he
+had swallowed the last bitter drop&mdash;the humiliation of defeat.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, wretched and miserable, and I don't wonder at it." They walked on
+in silence for some moments; then Waterman suddenly spoke again: "Look
+here, Percival, it's an awful fag trying to understand any one, but I
+once thought I understood you. I never dreamt you'd turn tail like you
+did. I'll never try to understand any one again. I'll give it up."</p>
+
+<p>"Bear with me a little longer. I had my reasons for what I did."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you had. You can't be quite an idiot. But reasons can be
+explained. Why didn't you explain yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"Look here," said Paul; "you've acted decently towards me, Waterman, and
+I'll explain to you as far as I'm able. Supposing a Beetle had done you,
+a few weeks back, a splendid turn&mdash;got you out of a tight corner in
+which you might have lost your life? Are you following me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Beetle&mdash;tight corner. Yes, I follow; but don't make it too hazy. I
+don't want to suffer from brain-fag. You're out of a tight corner, and
+your life's saved by&mdash;a Beetle. Trot along."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, supposing on your return to school after that, a breeze springs
+up between the Beetles and the Fifth; and supposing the Fifth insist on
+you being its champion?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's absurd. They'd never insist on my being its champion. I
+can't follow you there, Percival."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it's hard," smiled Paul; "but, we're only supposing, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten; but I can't see the use of supposing
+absurdities. Go on your own giddy way. Supposing&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The Fifth insist on you being its champion; and then supposing, when
+you get to the sand-pit to do battle for your form, you find that the
+champion of the Beetles&mdash;the one you're to do battle with&mdash;is the fellow
+who saved your life. Well, supposing all this, could you have fought
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean to say that this is what happened to you?" demanded
+Waterman, rousing himself in a surprising way.</p>
+
+<p>"You haven't answered me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if I could fancy myself as a champion of any kind, I don't think
+I could go for one who'd saved my life&mdash;bother it, no! But is this
+really what happened to you, Percival?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it really happened to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why didn't you explain?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I couldn't. My tongue's tied for the present. I'm only
+explaining to you in confidence, and I want you to promise me that you
+won't let it go any further."</p>
+
+<p>"I hate mysteries, they're so worrying. Why should there be any
+mystery?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why? I can't explain, except&mdash;except that there's something more
+important than the honour of the Fifth; than the honour of the school
+even. That's the reason why I'm obliged to keep silent."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say, this is getting more and more worrying. But if you don't
+want me to speak, of course, I'll keep quiet!"</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew that he could trust Waterman. In spite of his slackness&mdash;in
+spite of his indolence&mdash;he could be relied on to keep his word. In fact,
+he had one or two good qualities in reserve. If he made no close
+friendships, he had no enemies. "It was too great a trouble," he would
+have told you. "Too great a fag." That was only half the truth; the
+whole truth was that Waterman had, at bottom, a very good heart, though
+it was not often seen. It was hidden under his indolence of manner.</p>
+
+<p>He allowed a corner of it to be seen in a curious fashion on the way
+back to the school. He stuck to Paul's side&mdash;both hands in his pocket,
+of course&mdash;and made no attempt to "cut him," as the others had done.
+They passed several of the Gargoyles as they reached the school grounds,
+and directly Waterman's ears caught the suggestion of a jibe&mdash;and he had
+rather sharp ears considering how lazy he was&mdash;he would start whistling
+a popular tune, so that the jibe had a good deal of the sting taken from
+it by the time it reached its mark.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you could make it right with the fellows," he remarked, as he
+took leave of Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"All in good time. I'm grateful that you haven't turned your back on me,
+Waterman."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't butter me for that. I can't turn my back on any one&mdash;it's too
+great a fag."</p>
+
+<p>And Waterman strolled away with his hands in his pocket as though they
+had been glued there, whistling "Hail, smiling morn."</p>
+
+<p>Paul's talk with him had put him in a more cheerful mood.</p>
+
+<p>"I've only to find Stan and explain things. I don't care a snap of my
+fingers for the other fellows&mdash;they can go to Halifax," Paul told
+himself, as he went in search of Stanley. But though he searched for him
+in every direction, he could not find him.</p>
+
+<p>"He don't like to show himself just yet, with so many beauty spots on
+his face. Perhaps he's lying down," thought Paul, as he made his way to
+the dormitory. But Stanley was not in the dormitory&mdash;it was empty.
+"Strange. Where can he have got to?"</p>
+
+<p>Descending the stairs, the first boy he ran against was Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"Seen anything of Moncrief major?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger simply stared at him, while his eyebrows went up, in the way
+they had, till they disappeared into the stubborn thatch above.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hear what I said?"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger did another movement with his eccentric eyebrows, then turned on
+his heel. Paul sprang after him, angry in spite of himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Now look here, Master Plunger," he said, seizing him by the collar, and
+twisting him sharply round, "none of your nonsense. You needn't pretend
+that you didn't hear me, because you did. I asked you a civil question,
+and I want a civil answer."</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to know more about him than I do, Percival. The last I saw of
+him he was being knocked about for you in the sand-pit."</p>
+
+<p>And Plunger laughed impudently in Paul's face. Paul's hand fell from his
+collar. The jibe struck home, and Plunger went laughing on his way. He
+was always supremely happy when he could "score," as he termed it, "off
+those bounders of the Fifth." Paul felt that he had descended low,
+indeed, when he could be used as a target for the jibes of Master Freddy
+Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced back to the flag that waved above Garside&mdash;from the flag to
+the school door. As he did so, the figure he was looking for appeared in
+the doorway&mdash;the figure of Stanley Moncrief.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE "GARGOYLE RECORD"</h3>
+
+
+<p>Stanley was not alone, as Paul hoped he would be. Newall and Parfitt
+were with him. It was evident that his new-found friends had been
+"doctoring" him, for the blood had been carefully washed from his face,
+and it presented a less bruised and battered appearance.</p>
+
+<p>As he came from the door he caught sight of Paul. Paul hoped that he had
+got over his bitterness towards him by this time, and that he would come
+forward and greet him on the old footing of friendship. But he was
+disappointed; for as soon almost as Stanley caught sight of him, he
+turned away his head and commenced talking rapidly to Newall, as though
+he were unaware of Paul's existence. It was perfectly evident that his
+feeling to Paul had not softened in any way, and it was quite as clear
+that he meant ignoring him.</p>
+
+<p>Paul determined to speak to him, however, so, as he passed by him, he
+touched him on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Stanley!"</p>
+
+<p>At his touch, Stanley turned swiftly round and confronted him with
+blazing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"To speak with you for a few moments&mdash;alone."</p>
+
+<p>"I've had as much speaking with you as I ever want to have. I never wish
+to speak with you again&mdash;never, never!" He was greatly agitated. His
+voice was trembling with passion; but it grew calmer and harder, as,
+turning to his new-found companions, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"You hear what I say, Newall; and you, Parfitt. You are my witnesses."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we hear. We are your witnesses," said Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks!" And without waiting an answer from Paul, the three passed on.
+Not that Paul had an answer to give. He could not have spoken had his
+life depended on it. He was too staggered; too pained. Never speak to
+Stanley again! He with whom he had been on the closest terms of
+friendship ever since he had been at Garside!</p>
+
+<p>"Had he listened to me for a few moments I could have explained all. He
+doesn't dream who Wyndham is. He can be as stubborn as a mule. And what
+a look he gave me!" thought Paul. "I never dreamt that Stan would ever
+look at me in that way. I know what it is&mdash;it isn't Stan himself. It's
+those fellows he's picked up. He's sore against me, and they keep
+rubbing it in to keep the sore open. If I could only get him away from
+them."</p>
+
+<p>Paul thought for a moment or two how he should act. In spite of
+Stanley's hard words, he had no intention that the friendship which had
+existed between them should be severed without one more effort on his
+part to heal the breach. They were bound to meet in the dormitory that
+night. It would then be possible for him to whisper a word or two of
+explanation.</p>
+
+<p>But when evening came he found to his dismay that Stanley had left the
+dormitory. He had got permission to exchange cubicles with Leveson; so
+that he was now in the same dormitory as Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"He's gone over bag and baggage to the enemy," said Paul sorrowfully.
+"If Parfitt had only walked his chalks, and taken up his quarters with
+his friend Newall, we could very well have spared him; but Stan&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced round. Parfitt was watching him from the side of his bed,
+enjoying his discomfiture. That did not serve to lessen Paul's sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;&mdash;forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against
+us."</p>
+
+<p>Very earnestly he breathed the divine prayer that evening. The breach
+between him and Stanley seemed to be widening. What was to be done?
+There was one way left. He would write to him on the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>"He has refused to listen to an explanation, but he can't refuse to read
+my letter."</p>
+
+<p>So Paul rose early in the morning and wrote a letter. He explained as
+briefly as he could the reasons which had made him act as he had done at
+the sand-pit.</p>
+
+<p>"Wyndham was the fellow who acted so nobly when I went with your
+father's letter to Redmead that night, Stan. I could not raise my hand
+against him, and I never dreamed that you would. I hurried away because
+it was impossible for me to explain to the fellows what happened on that
+night&mdash;you alone know why. It would have got all over the place, and
+would have soon reached Weevil's ears. Then the last chance of finding
+out what is between him and Zuker would have gone. I can quite
+understand your soreness against me, old fellow, and I'm sorry&mdash;very
+sorry&mdash;that things turned out as they did at the sand-pit; but I hope
+you now see that I'm not so much to blame as you thought me. It is our
+first fall-out. Let it be our last. We were never meant to be enemies,
+old fellow. It mustn't be&mdash;mustn't. If all are against me, and you are
+with me, I shan't so much mind; so let's shake hands."</p>
+
+<p>Paul put the letter in an envelope and handed it to Waterman, who was
+still stretching and yawning, as though not quite awake.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mind giving this to Moncrief major. You're about the only fellow
+in the Form who wouldn't mind doing me a favour," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Moncrief major. Yes, yes; of course I will. It's an awfully lazy sort
+of morning, don't you think, Percival?" answered Waterman, stretching
+himself as he took the letter.</p>
+
+<p>That was Waterman's opinion of mornings generally. Every morning was a
+"lazy sort of a morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Watey," answered Paul, taking him by the arm and hurrying him
+towards the grounds where most of the scholars were. In a little while
+he espied Stanley, playing with Newall and Parfitt in the fives-court.</p>
+
+<p>"How fellows can fag about at that stupid game I could never make out,"
+remarked Waterman. "Am I to wait for an answer?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you wouldn't mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Mind? Not in the least. Waiting is so restful."</p>
+
+<p>He strolled off leisurely with the letter. Paul watched him. He reached
+the fives-court, and, waiting his opportunity, handed the note to
+Stanley. He looked at it; then questioned Waterman. A laugh went up from
+Newall and Parfitt as he did so. Then Stanley, without opening the
+letter, tore it into fragments and threw them contemptuously into the
+air.</p>
+
+<p>Waterman thrust his hands deep in his pockets, shrugged his shoulders,
+and returned to Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"You saw what happened, Percival?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I saw what happened," came the slow answer. "What was it he asked
+for?"</p>
+
+<p>"He only asked who it was from. I told him."</p>
+
+<p>"And then he deliberately tore my letter up and tossed the pieces in the
+air. Waterman, I'm sorry that you were so insulted."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't think of me. I rather liked it&mdash;really. A snub does one good on a
+lazy sort of morning like this&mdash;it really does."</p>
+
+<p>He was about to pass on, but, checking himself, said in a more serious
+tone:</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could have brought you a better answer, Percival."</p>
+
+<p>That day was one of the longest days Paul ever remembered: it dragged so
+slowly along. There was Stanley in the same room, sitting at times
+within a few feet of him, and yet they did not look at each other. No
+word passed between them.</p>
+
+<p>"I will never hold out my hand to him again," said Paul in the
+bitterness of his heart. He had done all that could be done to bring
+Stanley to reason, but every effort failed. "He must go his own way, and
+I must go mine. Some day, perhaps, he'll be sorry that he did not read
+my letter."</p>
+
+<p>Belonging to the Fourth Form was a boy named Dick Jessel. He was a
+fair-haired, blue-eyed boy&mdash;quite a Saxon type&mdash;with a shrewd, sharp
+wit. His father was the editor of a provincial paper, and Jessel ran a
+journal of his own at the school, by the aid of a hectograph and Jowitt,
+of the same Form, who was sub-editor, reporter, and "printer's devil"
+rolled into one. They were called the "two J's."</p>
+
+<p>A couple of days after the struggle at the sand-pit a number was issued
+of the <i>Gargoyle Record</i>&mdash;so the journal was named. Among other items of
+news appeared the following:</p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Motto for the Fifth.</i></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He who fights and runs away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will live to fight another day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Lost, stolen, or strayed.&mdash;A few pages from the Black Book.
+Whoever will bring the same to the P. D., at the office of this
+paper, will be rewarded."</p>
+
+<p>"Hints on Fashion.&mdash;A fresher of the Third is prepared to give
+hints on the correct style in trousers, spats, and white
+waistcoats. How they should be worn, and why. References exchanged
+and given&mdash;through the matron&mdash;preferably by carte-de-visite."</p>
+
+<p>"Lost, stolen, or strayed.&mdash;Missing Link from the Third. Last seen
+in all his native beauty on a window in the Forum. Believed to have
+hidden himself in a box so as to escape the notice of his
+pursuers."</p>
+
+<p>"Notice.&mdash;Our poet is stuck for a rhyme to 'hunger.' If any one can
+oblige the poet we'll give him a paragraph all to himself in the
+next number. N.B.&mdash;The rhyme must be a name of some kind&mdash;bird,
+beast, or fish."</p>
+
+<p>"Dropped. Somewhere near the sand-pit on Cranstead Common. Honour
+of the Fifth. When last seen was covered by crawlers&mdash;believed to
+be Beetles."</p></div>
+
+<p>Plunger was one of the earliest to obtain a copy of the <i>Gargoyle
+Record</i>. He read the first two paragraphs, and then raced into the
+common room bubbling over with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>Several boys were standing round the fire&mdash;some of the Third Form,
+including Harry Moncrief, Baldry, and Sedgefield; one or two of the
+Fourth, and three or four of the Fifth, including Stanley Moncrief,
+Newall&mdash;the two were now almost inseparable&mdash;Arbery, and Leveson.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say, have you seen the last number of the <i>Record</i>? It's a
+slashing number, I can tell you," Plunger burst out.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately everybody was eager to get possession of the <i>Record</i>.
+Baldry made a snatch at it.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you don't, Baldhead," said Plunger, putting it behind him, with
+his back to the wall. "Manners! If you can't listen like a gentleman,
+you'd better git."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't mind him, Plunger. He's only an outsider," said Arbery
+soothingly. "Read."</p>
+
+<p>"Read&mdash;read!" came in a chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"And keep your eyebrows out of your head while you're about it," said
+Leveson. "I never saw such eyebrows."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger glared at Leveson.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind him, Plunger," came the soothing voice of Arbery. "It's only
+envy, you know. I wish I had eyebrows like 'em. Get on."</p>
+
+<p>"I will get on&mdash;I will," said Plunger, with a last savage glance at
+Leveson. "Listen to this&mdash;here's a splendid hit against the Fifth." And
+he read: "'Motto for the Fifth. He who fights and runs away, Will live
+to fight another day.' Isn't it just splendid!"</p>
+
+<p>Those of the Fifth who were present maintained a gloomy silence, while
+those of the lower forms giggled and chuckled softly to themselves. They
+dared not do it too openly, for fear of bringing down upon their heads
+the wrath of the senior Form.</p>
+
+<p>When Plunger thought his first item of news had soaked itself thoroughly
+into the "bounders" of the Fifth, he read the second item. This fell
+rather flat and elicited no comment.</p>
+
+<p>Then Plunger began to bubble over again. He could not get on for a
+minute or two.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the ass giggling for?" "Get on, get on," and so forth, were some
+of the comments that greeted him.</p>
+
+<p>"'Hints on Fashion,'" read Plunger. "'A fresher of the Third'&mdash;ho,
+ho!&mdash;'is prepared to give hints on the correct style in trousers, spats,
+and white waistcoats. How they should be worn, and why.'&mdash;Ho, ho! Hold
+me up.&mdash;'References exchanged and given&mdash;through the matron&mdash;preferably
+by carte-de-visite.' Ho, ho! Hold me up."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger's eyebrows disappeared into his thatch of hair, and he laughed
+till he was black in the face, while all eyes went to poor Harry
+Moncrief, who devoutly wished that the ground might open and he might
+sink through.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all, Plunger?" inquired Arbery. "Get on to the next paragraph,
+or you'll choke."</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't get any farther for laughter," explained Plunger. "I thought
+you fellows would like that little tit-bit, so I rushed in here." He
+took up the paper again, and glanced at the next item. "This seems
+rather a good bit. 'Lost, stolen, or strayed. Missing Link from the
+Third. Last seen in all his native beauty on&mdash;on&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger came to an abrupt pause, hummed and hawed, and began to look
+exceedingly uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>"'Last seen in all his native beauty&mdash;&mdash;' Well, Plunger, what are you
+stopping for now?" cried Leveson. "If you can't read it yourself, hand
+over the <i>Record</i> to some one who can."</p>
+
+<p>"Shan't; it's my paper, and I'm not going to hand it over to any
+one&mdash;see," answered Plunger defiantly, putting the paper behind his
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, read on," shouted Arbery. "We're dying to hear who the Missing
+Link can be."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better get a paper of your own, then; I'm not going to read any
+more of the trash."</p>
+
+<p>"Thought it was a slashing number? What's come over you, Freddy?" asked
+Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>"Shut up&mdash;oh!"</p>
+
+<p>The exclamation came from Plunger as he felt the paper snatched from
+behind him by Leveson; then, as he tried to regain possession of it, his
+arms were pinioned behind him by one of the Fifth Form boys.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh, just listen!" laughed Leveson, "and see if you can guess why
+Plunger put the brake on. 'Lost, stolen, or strayed. Missing Link from
+the Third. Last seen in all his native beauty in the Forum. Believed to
+have hidden himself in a box so as to escape the notice of his
+pursuers.'"</p>
+
+<p>There was an outburst of laughter, as all eyes went to Plunger, who was
+making furious efforts to get away.</p>
+
+<p>"When it's a question of beauty, there's only one person in it," went on
+Leveson calmly, "and that is&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Plunger!" came in a chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"When we do agree, our unanimity is wonderful, as the Head used to tell
+us," went on Leveson. "Any other pretty bits? Oh&mdash;ah! Listen to this:
+'Notice. Our poet is stuck for a rhyme to "hunger." If any one can
+oblige the poet, we'll give him a paragraph all to himself in the next
+number. N.B.&mdash;The rhyme must be a name of some kind&mdash;bird, beast, or
+fish.' Ho, ho! Don't squirm so, Plunger. What branch of the animal
+kingdom do you belong to?"</p>
+
+<p>While they were shrieking with laughter at his discomfiture Plunger
+shouted above it all:</p>
+
+<p>"Go on&mdash;go on! As you have gone so far, you'd better go on a bit
+farther. Ah, you're not quite so ready with your reading now, Mr.
+Leveson."</p>
+
+<p>The laughter suddenly stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Read&mdash;read," came in a chorus.</p>
+
+<p>And Leveson read: "'Dropped&mdash;somewhere near sand-pit on Cranstead
+Common&mdash;Honour of the Fifth. When last seen, was covered by
+crawlers&mdash;believed to be Beetles.'"</p>
+
+<p>There was an ominous silence on the part of the senior boys. The juniors
+tittered. Leveson screwed up the paper in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Mind what you're doing, Leveson. That's my paper," cried Plunger. Then
+there was silence again, as Paul Percival entered the room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>PAUL WRITES A LETTER</h3>
+
+
+<p>Stanley's head had fallen to his breast as Leveson read that bitter
+paragraph from the <i>Record</i>. He looked up quickly as Paul entered the
+room. For the moment it seemed as though he would speak; then he bit his
+lips fiercely to keep back the words that sprang to them, and went from
+the room. Newall followed him, then Arbery. One by one they followed his
+example&mdash;Third Form boys as well as Fifth&mdash;until one only
+remained&mdash;Waterman, who had been comfortably resting in a chair by the
+fire throughout the scene described in the last chapter. As the last boy
+went out, he glanced up.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo, Percival! Is that you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you do the same as the rest of the fellows, and clear out?"
+asked Paul bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm quite comfortable where I am, thank you."</p>
+
+<p>And Waterman stretched out his legs, and settled himself more
+comfortably in his chair. Paul could see that it was not altogether a
+question of comfort with Waterman. His laziness was only a cloak to
+disguise a real feeling of friendship towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"The fellows were discussing me as I came in?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite know what they were discussing. Oh, young Plunger had
+made himself an ass, as usual, over some paragraph in the <i>Record</i>. That
+was it."</p>
+
+<p>Leveson had screwed up the paper, it will be remembered, when he had
+read the paragraph about the honour of the Fifth, and, as Paul entered,
+had flung it contemptuously from him into a corner of the room. Paul's
+eye went to it as Waterman was speaking.</p>
+
+<p>"Paragraph in the <i>Record</i>," he repeated, as he smoothed it out. "What
+have they got to say about Plunger?"</p>
+
+<p>He quickly read the paragraphs which had reference to Plunger, and then
+he read the one which he knew well enough had reference to himself.
+Waterman rose from his chair as the paper dropped from Paul's hand and
+placed a hand on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"You're cut up, Percival. I wouldn't let that paragraph worry me. It's
+really not worth it. There's nothing in the world worth worrying
+about&mdash;there really isn't."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean what you say, Waterman&mdash;though it's kind of you to say
+it. Honour's worth troubling about&mdash;one's own honour; the honour of
+one's form; the honour of one's school; and I know that, disguise it as
+you may, you're just as keen on it as any in the school. And all the
+fellows believe that I've dragged it through the mud."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, things will clear up some day, Percival; then you'll come
+into your own," said Waterman cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Some day I suppose they will; but it may be a long time first, and
+there's no game so hard to play as the waiting game."</p>
+
+<p>"That's where you're wrong, Percival. There's no game in the world like
+it&mdash;the waiting game, I mean. There's no fag about it, and that's what I
+like. Just wait your time, you know&mdash;take it easy&mdash;no flurry&mdash;go as you
+please. It's the game of all games for my ha'pence. It really is,
+Percival. So don't worry, old fellow&mdash;and don't flurry."</p>
+
+<p>Paul could not help smiling to himself at Waterman's easy view of
+things, but the smile quickly disappeared when he was once more alone.
+Waterman had talked about "things clearing up," and "coming into his
+own"; but would things ever clear up? Would he ever win back the honour
+of the Form, and the confidence of those who belonged to it? Saddest of
+all was the memory that Stanley, who had been his greatest friend, now
+appeared to be his greatest enemy.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly it occurred to him&mdash;he would write to Mr. Walter Moncrief, and
+tell him what had happened that night when he went to Dormitory X. The
+idea had occurred to him before, but he had put it off in the hope that
+he might have surer evidence to go upon. No further evidence had been
+forthcoming, but delay might be dangerous; so he determined to write.</p>
+
+<p>So he went into the writing-room, and wrote to Mr. Moncrief, telling him
+exactly what had happened on the night he went to Dormitory X.</p>
+
+<p>"I am pretty well certain," he went on, "that the man I saw with Mr.
+Weevil is one of the men who came after me on the night I came to your
+house at Redmead&mdash;the chief of the two. It was night-time, but I had a
+fairly good view of his face. What he has to do with Mr. Weevil, I can't
+make out. I should be sorry to think that Mr. Weevil has anything to do
+with a traitor to his country; but there must be something at the bottom
+of it all. What that something is, you may be able to find out better
+than I can. Dr. Colville, our Head, is away, so I cannot go to him. What
+ought to be done? Will you let me know what you think?"</p>
+
+<p>Having written this letter, Paul felt more comfortable. So soon as he
+heard from Mr. Moncrief, his lips would be unsealed, and he might take
+steps to clear his own honour. He would then be able to explain to his
+Form&mdash;to all the school if need be&mdash;what had prevented him from
+confronting Wyndham at the sand-pit.</p>
+
+<p>But having finished his letter, there was one great difficulty in the
+way. All letters written in the school were supposed to pass, first of
+all, through the hands of the master. How could he let that letter pass
+through the hands of Mr. Weevil? As he was thinking over this dilemma,
+Hibbert entered the room, and told him that Mr. Travers wished to speak
+to him. Mr. Travers was master of the Fifth.</p>
+
+<p>Paul rose to his feet, and thrust the letter in his pocket, wondering
+what Mr. Travers could want with him. Then it occurred to him that
+Hibbert was just the boy he wanted; he could trust Hibbert with
+anything. Hibbert would post the letter for him.</p>
+
+<p>"Hibbert, I want you to do me a great favour," he said, drawing the
+letter from his pocket. "I want you to post this letter for me. There's
+nothing wrong in it, I give you my word of honour; but, I don't want Mr.
+Weevil to know. That's why I am not sending it through the school post."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert expressed his willingness to post it, and Paul handed him the
+letter, then went to Mr. Travers' room. Hibbert hastened off with the
+letter, but, as ill-luck would have it, he ran full tilt against Mr.
+Weevil, just as he reached the outer door. In doing so, he stumbled, and
+would have fallen to the ground had not the master caught him by the
+arm.</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a>
+<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"<span class="smcap">As ill-luck would have it, Hibbert ran full tilt
+against Mr. Weevil, just as he reached the outer door.</span>"</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Hallo! Where are you running to in such a hurry?" he asked, in that
+gentle voice he always used to Hibbert&mdash;softer than that used by him to
+any other boy in the school.</p>
+
+<p>"Out&mdash;in&mdash;the grounds, sir."</p>
+
+<p>In stumbling, Hibbert's hand had been jerked from his breast, and Mr.
+Weevil caught sight of the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that&mdash;a letter?"</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert did not answer. It was useless denying it.</p>
+
+<p>"Step this way."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil's tone had now become quite stern. He led the way into one of
+the class-rooms; then closed the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Now have the goodness to hand me that letter," he said, gazing at
+Hibbert through half-closed eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert dared not refuse; so he handed him the letter.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil's eyes opened to their fullest extent when he saw the address
+on it:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">W. Moncrief</span>, Esq.,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Redmead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oakville (Kent).<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"For whom were you posting this letter&mdash;Moncrief major, or Moncrief
+minor?"</p>
+
+<p>"Neither," came the low answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Who, then? Come; no harm shall befall you if you speak the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind myself, but&mdash;but&mdash;I don't want any harm to happen
+to&mdash;to&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The one who sent you&mdash;eh? Well, we'll see. Just tell me frankly who
+sent you with this letter? It is quite easy for me to find out by
+opening it, you know; but I would much rather hear it from you."</p>
+
+<p>"Percival," answered the boy, hesitatingly, seeing there was no help for
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival!" echoed the master. "Wait here a moment."</p>
+
+<p>He left the room with the letter. Hibbert wondered what he intended
+doing with it. Would he open it, or would he send for Percival? He was
+on thorns. Percival had particularly wished to keep the note from Mr.
+Weevil. The very first thing he had asked him to do&mdash;and that so
+simple&mdash;he had made a mess of.</p>
+
+<p>"How stupid of me! How stupid of me! Percival will never trust me with
+anything again."</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Mr. Weevil returned. His face had not lost its
+sternness.</p>
+
+<p>"In sending you with that letter, Percival knew well enough he was
+acting against the rules of the school."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I&mdash;dare say it slipped his memory, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing of the sort. He knew well enough he was breaking the rules of
+the school, and, worse still, that he was making you an accomplice in
+the act. However, I do not intend to deal severely with the case, for
+your sake. You are quite new to the ways and rules of this place. Take
+the letter. Post it; but don't say a word to Percival that I stopped
+you. Do you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I understand," said the boy, as he took the letter, and ran off
+with it to the post. He looked at the letter as he ran. Was it the same?
+Yes, the very same&mdash;the same address, in Paul's handwriting. It was very
+kind of Mr. Weevil, and he would always be grateful to him for his
+kindness.</p>
+
+<p>Paul, meanwhile, had gone to Mr. Travers, wondering what he could want
+with him. The master of the Fifth was a man of about thirty, who led a
+studious, secluded life. He was a capable master, but had not succeeded
+in winning the sympathies of the scholars. One of the chief reasons was
+that, though he took an interest in their studies, he took little
+interest in their sports. He preferred instead long, solitary rambles.
+Paul was, therefore, the more surprised when he found that the object of
+Mr. Travers in sending for him was to question him as to the relations
+between him and his class-mates.</p>
+
+<p>"I've noticed that you do not appear to be on very good terms with the
+Form, Percival," he said. "I should not have said anything about it,
+only I happened to be near the Common Room this afternoon when you
+entered, and found that that was a signal for the others to march out. I
+don't like a feeling of that kind in my Form. I know well enough that
+boys will have their quarrels, and that they can be usually trusted to
+settle them alone; but this seems to me deeper than an ordinary quarrel,
+otherwise I should not have spoken. I have no wish to press for your
+confidence, but if you will tell me what the cause of this ill-feeling
+is, I might do something to bring about a better understanding between
+you and the Form."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's only a bit of a dispute between me and Moncrief major."</p>
+
+<p>"And for a dispute between you and Moncrief major all the Form are
+against you?"</p>
+
+<p>"They take his side, sir. They think that he is right and I'm in the
+wrong&mdash;that is all."</p>
+
+<p>"That is all!" echoed the master. "And that is all the explanation you
+can give? Remember, I'm not forcing an explanation from you. I'm not
+asking you as your master, but as your friend."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was drawn to him as he had never been drawn before, such is the
+power of sympathy. He regretted more than ever that he had sent the
+letter to Mr. Moncrief; but it was impossible to recall it. Hibbert was
+on his way with it at that moment to the post.</p>
+
+<p>"That is all the explanation I can give, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, Percival"&mdash;the manner of Mr. Travers changed as the words
+fell from Paul's lips; he was again the master, and frigid as ice&mdash;"then
+there is nothing more to be said. I regret that I sent for you."</p>
+
+<p>Thus curtly dismissed, Paul went out, feeling miserable. At the time
+when he so wanted a friend he had lost one. And yet how else could he
+have acted? There was no other way. He must wait and see what the
+letter to Mr. Moncrief would bring forth. And with this thought
+uppermost in his mind he went to the writing-room to await the return
+of Hibbert.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SCHOOL OF ADVERSITY</h3>
+
+
+<p>Paul took up a pen as he sat and waited, and idly traced words upon the
+blotting-paper. But his thoughts were far away. He was thinking of the
+interview he had just had with Mr. Travers. He was still thinking of it
+when the door opened and Hibbert entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you posted the letter?" Paul asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; the postman was just clearing the box when I slipped it in."</p>
+
+<p>Paul would almost as soon that he had not succeeded in posting it&mdash;that
+he had brought the letter back with him. Perhaps it was best as it was,
+however.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, Hibbert."</p>
+
+<p>He did not notice that the boy was looking uncomfortable&mdash;as though he
+had something on his mind but dared not speak it.</p>
+
+<p>"You have seen Mr. Travers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes." Then noticing for the first time the nervous, apprehensive look
+in the boy's eyes, and thinking it was due to the fear that he had got
+into further trouble with the master, he added: "Nothing happened. He
+was quite nice with me."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad of that."</p>
+
+<p>By this time Hibbert was standing by Paul's side. Suddenly an
+exclamation came from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo! What's wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul, looking at the boy, saw that his eyes were fixed upon the
+blotting-paper.</p>
+
+<p>"That&mdash;that! Do you know anybody of that name?" he asked, as he pointed
+to a name Paul had unconsciously traced on the blotting-paper&mdash;that of
+Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>"Why? Do you?" Paul asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Y-yes," answered the boy, with hesitation. "I&mdash;I once knew a boy of
+that name."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?" asked Paul, at once interested.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was at school in Germany; but there are a good many Zukers
+there, you know, and the boy I speak of is dead."</p>
+
+<p>"Dead! Did you know his father?"</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert shook his head. Paul tore up the blotting-paper. It was just
+possible that Mr. Weevil might catch sight of the name, just as Hibbert
+had done.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you don't like the name?" the boy asked, as he watched Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's as good as any other, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"You must have known some one of that name&mdash;I'm certain of it,"
+persisted the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't mind telling you, Hibbert&mdash;you've been such a good little
+chap to me&mdash;it was through a man of that name my father lost his life."</p>
+
+<p>"A man of the&mdash;of the name of Zuker?" stammered Hibbert.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me&mdash;do tell me&mdash;all about it?" pleaded the boy, clutching Paul
+suddenly by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's a sad tale, and it won't interest you."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed it will&mdash;very, very much. Anything that has to do with you
+interests me. Tell me."</p>
+
+<p>Without intending to compliment Paul, the boy had paid him the most
+delicate compliment he could have done. Besides, Paul was now very much
+alone, and in his loneliness it was nice to have some one to speak to;
+so he told his eager listener the tragic circumstances that had cost his
+father his life. Hibbert scarcely spoke or moved all the time Paul was
+telling the story. He hung upon every word.</p>
+
+<p>"How noble of your father to jump overboard and save the man&mdash;the man
+Zuker," said the lad, when Paul had finished. "There's not many who
+would have risked their life to save an enemy. I think you said Zuker
+was an enemy."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know about an enemy. He seems to have been a wretched,
+contemptible spy; but what's wrong with you?" he suddenly exclaimed, as
+his eyes went to the boy's face. It was of an ashen pallor, and he was
+trembling in every limb.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing wrong, except&mdash;except that I can't help thinking what a lot you
+and your mother must have suffered after your father's death."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't suffer much, because I was too young to remember him. I was
+only a little more than a year old when it all happened. Still, I should
+so like to have known my father. They say he was very brave, and kind,
+and true, and one of the best captains in the Navy; and when sometimes I
+think of him, and what he might have been to me, I feel very bitter
+against the man for whom he gave his life. Then I battle against the
+feeling, and a better takes its place. I think to myself&mdash;What nobler
+death could a man die than in trying to save the life of one who had
+done him wrong."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Percival," said the boy, looking away; "it was a noble death&mdash;very
+noble&mdash;and your father must have been a noble man. What was it the spy
+did?"</p>
+
+<p>"Got into my father's cabin, and tried to get at his private
+despatches."</p>
+
+<p>"And where were they taking this man&mdash;the spy&mdash;when he jumped
+overboard?"</p>
+
+<p>"To Gibraltar, where he was to be tried by court-martial."</p>
+
+<p>"And after they'd tried him by court-martial?"</p>
+
+<p>"If the court-martial had found him guilty, they would have shot him."</p>
+
+<p>"Shot him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, they showed no quarter at that time, I believe, to one who stole,
+or tried to steal, State secrets."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how horrible!" cried the boy, covering his face with his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think that a man like that deserves to die, Hibbert?
+Remember, it isn't only one life he places in peril, but
+hundreds&mdash;thousands. He betrays a country."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, I dare say you are right, Percival&mdash;I'm certain you are
+right; but none the less, it sounds very terrible. Is it the same now as
+it was then&mdash;that no quarter would be given to a spy, I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so. But I'm sorry I told you the story," said Paul, looking at
+the boy apprehensively. His face was still deathly pale, while he
+trembled in every limb. "I didn't think it would cut you up so. Any one
+would think," he added, with a sad smile, "that it was your father's
+death I'd been talking about instead of mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my father"&mdash;and the boy gave a little, stifled laugh. "I&mdash;I've
+been putting myself in your place, you see. How was it the spy got
+away?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was tried by court-martial, but nothing could be proved against him,
+you see; for my father was the principal witness, and he was at the
+bottom of the sea."</p>
+
+<p>"At the bottom of the sea," repeated the boy, as a tear stole slowly
+down his cheek. "And you don't know what became of the spy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I suppose he returned to his own country after that," said Paul
+carelessly; for he did not want to tell Hibbert his suspicions that
+Zuker was still in England and not so far away. "But be off now, and
+have a good run in the open. You've had enough of my yarn, and will be
+dreaming about spies and drowning all night."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert brushed the tear from his eye. It seemed as though his heart
+were too full for speech; for he went out without a word.</p>
+
+<p>"What a sensitive little chap he is!" thought Paul. "He was full to
+overflowing as I told him that story. I wonder what his people are
+like?"</p>
+
+<p>He got up as he spoke and went out. A throng of boys were playing in the
+grounds. Too absorbed in their games, they took no notice of Paul, for
+which he was devoutly thankful. He walked out of the grounds, along the
+road leading to St. Bede's. Scarcely noticing the direction in which he
+was travelling, he was rudely awakened from his reverie by the shout of
+"A Gargoyle&mdash;a Gargoyle!" And before he could move a step farther he
+found himself surrounded by a dozen boys, who danced wildly round him,
+shouting the name of contempt again and again, as though they were a
+band of savages, and had suddenly discovered a victim for the sacrifice.</p>
+
+<p>Paul saw at a glance that he had fallen into the hands of the enemy&mdash;in
+other words, into the hands of the rival school. There were senior boys
+and junior boys. Prominent amongst the latter he noticed Mellor, who was
+quite ecstatic with delight at having trapped a Gargoyle.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, hanged if it isn't the fellow who turned tail and ran!" cried one
+of the seniors.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Percival. Didn't you see that?" said Mellor.</p>
+
+<p>"So it is," came in a chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"The noble champion of the Gargoyles&mdash;ho, ho!" cried the senior.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho, ho!" came in a chorus, and they commenced dancing round Paul, in a
+wilder, madder fashion than before. "Ho, ho, ho! The noble champion of
+the Gargoyles."</p>
+
+<p>"'And he bared his big right arm,'" cried one, when this chorus had
+ceased.</p>
+
+<p>"And cried aloud, 'Come on,'" shouted another.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come one, come all, this rock shall fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From its firm base sooner than I!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>shouted a third.</p>
+
+<p>A scream of laughter greeted this sally, and then the dancing was
+resumed to the old chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho, ho! ho! The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"</p>
+
+<p>Paul stood motionless as a statue and as white as one in the midst of
+the jeering, mocking throng. He made no answer to the jibes, but waited
+until they had exhausted themselves. It was some time before that
+happened. At length the cries grew feebler, the wild dancing slackened.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, have you nearly finished?" Paul asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen. The noble champion of the Gargoyles is speaking. He's got a
+tongue," exclaimed the senior who had first spoken.</p>
+
+<p>"And legs as well," said a second.</p>
+
+<p>"And doesn't he know how to use them!" added a third&mdash;an observation
+which drew out another shriek of laughter. From white Paul turned
+scarlet.</p>
+
+<p>To keep silent under provocation, more especially provocation that is
+undeserved, is one of the hardest lessons that can be learned, boys and
+girls. Paul was only a boy, with a boy's impulses, passions, and
+feelings. But some time was to pass before he was to learn the great
+lesson of how to keep these passions under perfect control&mdash;and many
+things were to happen in the interval&mdash;but he had begun the task. Rough
+and bitter though the schooling was, in no better way could the lesson
+have been taught than in that school of adversity through which he was
+now passing.</p>
+
+<p>"When you've quite finished," said Paul, as they once more came to a
+pause, "I would like to go on my way."</p>
+
+<p>"Where? To the sand-pit?" came a voice.</p>
+
+<p>"No; he'd rather keep away from that. He'll always give that a pretty
+wide berth," some one answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not take him there? He doesn't know what a nice place it is for a
+picnic."</p>
+
+<p>The suggestion was hailed with delight.</p>
+
+<p>"The sand-pit&mdash;the sand-pit!" was the cry.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately a rush was made for Paul. It was more than flesh and blood
+could stand. Paul had kept wonderfully calm and cool up to the moment;
+but directly they tried to put hands upon him he struck out right and
+left. With so much vigour did he strike that he might have made his way
+through the howling, struggling pack, but just at the moment he had got
+himself free, Mellor, who was one of those who had been knocked to the
+ground, caught him by the legs and brought him with a crash to the
+ground.</p>
+
+<p>"On him&mdash;on him!" was the cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Back&mdash;back! Cowards all!"</p>
+
+<p>At the instant they were about to seize Paul a figure dashed into their
+midst, scattering the struggling pack to right and left.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3>WYNDHAM AGAIN TO THE RESCUE</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Back, back! Twelve to one&mdash;cowards, cowards!"</p>
+
+<p>The Bedes fell back as the youth fell among them, and cleared a passage
+to Paul. Paul, momentarily stunned by his fall, breathed freely again,
+and leapt to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's Percival!" said the new-comer. "Are you hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul could scarcely believe his eyes, as he found himself again
+confronting Gilbert Wyndham.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks," he answered stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>He would rather have been indebted to any one than to Wyndham. He had
+wished to clear off the debt between them, but instead of that he found
+himself more indebted to him than ever. For a second time he had been
+placed under an obligation to him.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't see who it is, Wyndham," came a voice from the ranks of the
+Bedes, disappointed of their prey. "It's a Gargoyle&mdash;the wretched
+Gargoyle who showed such a clean pair of heels at the sand-pit."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do see who it is; but, whoever he is, that's no reason why a
+dozen of you should set on him at once. That's not fair play, Murrell."</p>
+
+<p>"Half a dozen of 'em set on me," came the voice of Mellor. "What's good
+enough for the Gargoyles ought to be good enough for us."</p>
+
+<p>"That's just where you're wrong, Mellor," answered Wyndham coolly.
+"What's good enough for a Gargoyle isn't good enough for a Bede&mdash;is it,
+Bedes?"</p>
+
+<p>A murmur of ready assent went up at this appeal&mdash;from all except Mellor.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, you are half a Gargoyle yourself, Mellor, or you would have
+known that. You belong to the amphibia at present. When you've grown out
+of that you will know better, won't he, Bedes?"</p>
+
+<p>A laugh went up&mdash;from all except Mellor. The storm which had looked
+threatening began to clear under the ready tact of Wyndham. Still, the
+boys did not like the idea of letting Paul go scot-free.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you'll know better than that by-and-by, Mellor," said the youth
+addressed as Murrell. "Your education was neglected as a Gargoyle.
+You'll improve as you go along. But, I say, Wyndham, what are you going
+to do with the specimen you've got? You can't stick it in the museum,
+you know. So turn it over to us again. We won't hurt it. We'll only give
+it a run to the sand-pit, and a roll down. It will do it good. Eating
+sand is better than eating dirt."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, hand him over," came in a chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"No," came the decided answer, as Wyndham twined his arm in Paul's. "The
+Gargoyle is my property."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do with him?" demanded Murrell.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to have a little quiet talk with him, that's all."</p>
+
+<p>What could Wyndham want with a little quiet talk with a Gargoyle? It
+could only be for one purpose&mdash;to gather information which might be of
+use to the Bedes in any future campaign against Garside. So the boys
+reluctantly turned away, and left Wyndham and Paul together.</p>
+
+<p>"Why have you come a second time to my help?" came in a choking voice
+from Paul when they were alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, I don't know," smiled Wyndham. "Does it matter much? Do you
+mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mind! After what happened at the sand-pit the other day. Mind! I would
+rather have been under an obligation to any one than you."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean it?" asked Wyndham, now quite grave.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do. I was never more in earnest in my life. I had hoped to
+clear off the debt that was between us, and now you have placed me in
+your debt a second time."</p>
+
+<p>"If you mean by debt that little service I was only too pleased to do
+for you at the well, I thought it was quite cleared off."</p>
+
+<p>"How?"</p>
+
+<p>"By the service you did for me at the sand-pit the other day."</p>
+
+<p>"You are mocking me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was never more serious in my life," answered Wyndham, using Paul's
+words. "When I saw you standing before me at the sand-pit&mdash;saw who your
+fellows had selected as their champion&mdash;I was staggered. You were the
+last in the world I dreamt of seeing. I could see that you were
+bewildered, but not more than I was. I knew not how to act. Fight you?
+Impossible! Go away&mdash;turn on my heel? That seemed impossible, too. I
+should be stamped as a coward. I could not explain, because that would
+have meant giving away your secret. Then, as the thoughts flashed
+through my mind, you solved the riddle. You had the courage to do what I
+couldn't&mdash;you walked away."</p>
+
+<p>Paul regarded Wyndham in wonder. The thoughts which had passed through
+Wyndham's mind were almost the same thoughts that had passed through
+his. The same struggle had gone on in both. For the moment the hard,
+bitter feeling that had stirred within him softened, and he was on the
+point of holding out his hand, when he remembered that it meant clasping
+the one that had so severely punished Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"I walked away," he echoed; "and then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, then," smiled Wyndham, "things couldn't have happened better. Some
+bounder amongst your mob was anxious to bound into your shoes. He jumped
+up in an awfully excited way, muttering something about 'the honour of
+the Form.' He insisted on fighting me, and I didn't mind in the least.
+You know how it ended."</p>
+
+<p>"Too well&mdash;too well," repeated Paul sadly. "Better far had I stayed.
+That was my friend you punished so."</p>
+
+<p>"Your friend!"</p>
+
+<p>"The best friend I had at Garside. We are friends no longer. Instead of
+that, he looks upon me now as his worst enemy, while all the school look
+upon me as a cur. But it isn't that I mind so much, it's losing the
+friendship of Stanley Moncrief."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry. I did not dream things were as bad as that. Who is this
+Stanley Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is the son of that gentleman for whom I took the letter to Redmead
+on the night you met me, and did me so great a service."</p>
+
+<p>"If it was a service, I've undone it now," answered Wyndham sorrowfully.
+"I could not have done a worse one than I did you at the sand-pit. Why
+couldn't you explain to your friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've tried to, but he won't listen. He is smarting under his defeat,
+and I don't wonder at it."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence between them for a minute or two, then Wyndham
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going back to Garside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I am going with you. Moncrief won't listen to you. He will
+listen to me."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" said Paul firmly. "It is very kind of you, but I would rather
+not. If Stanley Moncrief and I are ever to be friends again, he will
+have to find out for himself that I'm not the cur he thinks me. I've
+tried to explain, but he would not hear. I shall never try again, unless
+he comes round and asks me."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you are right," said Wyndham, after a pause. "None the less,
+I'm sorry&mdash;deeply sorry&mdash;that you should have lost your friend through
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, things will work round presently," said Paul lightly. "I suppose,
+after that affair at the sand-pit, you were quite the hero of your
+school?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know about hero. They made a lot of fuss over me, because, as
+you know well enough, there's no love lost between us and Garside. But
+if anybody deserves to be the hero of a school, it is you."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is easy enough to flow with the tide, but awfully hard to struggle
+against it. That's what you're doing just now, Percival."</p>
+
+<p>He walked with Percival for some distance on the road to Garside, and
+when they separated they shook hands, unaware of the fact that they had
+been seen by one of the Third Form. After Wyndham's explanation, how was
+it possible for Paul to refuse the hand held out to him?</p>
+
+<p>Now, Stanley Moncrief was at this time in his dormitory, very miserable.
+He had been so, in fact, ever since he had broken with Paul. He had a
+real affection for him. He had loved him as he might have loved a
+brother; then, after his defeat at the sand-pit, he felt that there was
+only one thing to be done, and that was to&mdash;hate him. So he had broken
+off the friendship, and rushed into the arms of the two whom he
+disliked&mdash;Newall and Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>But when Stanley began to reflect a little more deeply, he began to see
+that he could not altogether shake off the old link that bound him to
+Paul. He had always been comfortable and at ease with him&mdash;could sit
+with him, as it were, in his shirt-sleeves and slippers. He had felt at
+home with him from the first day they met. He could not feel the same
+with Newall or Parfitt, try as he might. He seemed to be ever acting a
+part when he was with them, and they seemed to be doing the same when
+they were with him. For instance, he would have liked to have read the
+letter Paul sent him by Waterman; but the eyes of Newall were upon him,
+so he tore it up in bravado, and scattered the fragments in the way
+already described. It was not Stanley's real self did that&mdash;he was
+acting a part.</p>
+
+<p>Again, when Paul entered the common room, looking so sad and miserable,
+Stanley's heart prompted him to stay and speak to his old friend.
+Perhaps he might have done so had he been alone; but he felt that the
+eyes of the others were upon him, especially Newall's. Something was
+expected of him. He was to give the lead; so he gave the lead, by
+walking from the room, and the rest followed him, with the solitary
+exception of Waterman.</p>
+
+<p>Then he joined in the laughter and the jeers of his new-found friends
+when they got outside, all at the expense of Paul. Again, Stanley was
+acting a part. At heart he felt miserable. The sadness of Paul's face
+haunted him, and as soon as he could he escaped from his companions to
+the solitude of the dormitory.</p>
+
+<p>He had been puzzled all along how it was Paul had acted in such a
+cowardly way at the sand-pit. He knew that he had no love for fighting;
+but once having taken up the gage of battle, he was not one to shrink
+from it. What was it his father had said? That no braver youth could be
+found than Paul Percival. His uncle had the same opinion, and they were
+not the men to make mistakes. Had his nature suddenly altered, or what
+had happened? More and more he regretted that he had not opened Paul's
+letter. It might have given him the answer to the riddle.</p>
+
+<p>So Stanley sat on the side of the bed for a long time, very miserable.
+Indeed, I very much question whether of the two he was not the more
+miserable. It is true that nearly all Paul's companions dropped away
+from him; but perhaps it was better to lose companions than to have
+those you did not really want.</p>
+
+<p>"It is all a hideous mistake. I'll go and make it up with Paul," he
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>As he was thus thinking, the door opened, and his cousin entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Harry, what do you want?" he asked gruffly, as though resenting
+the intrusion.</p>
+
+<p>Harry eyed him for a moment without answering.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you speak? Have you lost your tongue, Harry?"</p>
+
+<p>"I saw Percival a little while ago, Stan."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;what of it? What's that to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing much, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you see him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not very far from here. He was with that fellow&mdash;that beastly
+Beetle&mdash;who fought with you."</p>
+
+<p>"What were they doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they were walking and talking together&mdash;very chummy. When they
+left, they shook hands&mdash;almost kissed each other."</p>
+
+<p>"Shook hands! You are sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Positive."</p>
+
+<p>"Run off, youngster. Leave me," cried Stanley hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>Harry ran out, wondering at the effect his information had had upon his
+cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"Shook hands with him!" echoed Stanley, as he sank with a groan upon the
+bed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CHASM WIDENS</h3>
+
+
+<p>Unintentionally Harry Moncrief had made deeper the chasm between the
+one-time friends. It was quite evident to Stanley, from Harry's
+description of what he had witnessed, that there was an understanding
+between Paul and Wyndham, otherwise they would never have shaken hands
+with each other. The fact that Paul could take the hand of one who had
+thrashed him set the blood tingling in Stanley's veins. That showed
+plainly enough that Paul was on friendly terms with his enemy&mdash;with an
+enemy of the school. What was to be done?</p>
+
+<p>Stanley got up and paced the room. The softer feelings that had been
+working in his breast vanished.</p>
+
+<p>"I will never speak to Paul Percival again&mdash;never!" he said fiercely.
+"Perhaps the whole of that business at the sand-pit was a trap of his
+into which I was fool enough to fall. How else could they have shaken
+hands together?"</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him, thus blinded by suspicion against his friend, that it
+could only have one meaning&mdash;they were gloating over his defeat.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Harry Moncrief had no sooner descended the stairs leading
+from the dormitories than he came sharply into contact with Plunger, who
+was hurrying along the corridor as though he were rushing full speed up
+a cricket pitch to prevent himself from being run out.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo, Harry, just the fellow I was looking for!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you, Freddy? Then I wish you'd look for me with your eyes instead
+of your elbows," answered Harry, rubbing his ribs, which were aching
+from the blow they had just received from the boniest part of Plunger's
+elbows. "What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know that twaddle in the <i>Gargoyle Record</i> about the poet being
+stuck for a rhyme to 'hunger'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," laughed Harry, as he recalled Plunger's confusion when the
+paragraph was read aloud in the common room.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you grinning at? You don't mean to say you saw anything funny
+in it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; but you're bound to laugh when the other fellows laugh, you
+know. It's like the measles&mdash;catching. I'm all right now. Go on. You
+were saying&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe that paragraph was sent in to the editor&mdash;Dick Jessel, you
+know&mdash;by Baldry."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! What makes you think that?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's been worrying about rhymes ever since that paragraph was read
+out&mdash;that's why. You see, he sent in the paragraph so that he might have
+another shot at me with the answer. Baldry's a deep 'un."</p>
+
+<p>"But why should he send in paragraphs to the <i>Record</i> against you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I make fun of his name, so he's trying to score off me in return.
+But he can't do it, for 'Plunger's' no sort of rhyme to 'hunger.' And
+there's another thing I've got to tell you in confidence, Harry. I
+believe that cartoon of me on the Forum window was Baldry's work."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" answered Harry drily. "What makes you think that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Baldry once said that if the glue business failed"&mdash;Plunger's father
+was a glue and size merchant in a large way of business&mdash;"I could always
+pick up my living as an artist's model."</p>
+
+<p>"How?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he had the cheek to tell me I had a funny sort of face. And
+Baldry's smart with the pencil, you know; so, putting this and that
+together, I believe Master Baldry not only sent in that paragraph to the
+<i>Record</i>, but put my face on the Forum window."</p>
+
+<p>"Very wrong of him, Freddy," said Harry sympathetically. "What are you
+going to do with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've got a lovely old basket, once the property of a dear and
+highly-respected friend of yours, Mrs. Trounce, and this basket is
+filled with a lovely collection of feathers. Along with these feathers
+will be mixed a little glutinous substance, as the chemistry master
+calls it, which I brought last term from the pater's works. This basket
+will be fixed directly over the Forum door, by means of a string, the
+end of which will be held by some one hidden in a tree at the back of
+the Forum. That some one in the tree will be you. Are you listening?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ra-ther. That some one in the tree will be me. Go on."</p>
+
+<p>"My dearly beloved and much respected chum, Sammy Baldry, will receive a
+message calling him to the Forum at half-past six. Someone will be at
+the side of the Forum, so as to know the exact moment Baldry appears on
+the scene. Directly he nears the door that some one will whistle. That
+will be a signal to you up in the tree. Baldhead will open the door.
+Then you'll pull the string. Over will go the basket, and down will come
+the pretty feathers over Baldhead. In the information Baldry was good
+enough to supply to the <i>Gargoyle Record</i>, affectionate inquiries were
+made, you remember, after the Missing Link, last seen in all his native
+beauty in the Forum. What price for Baldry, eh? When he gets these
+feathers on him he'll be a puzzle. No one will be able to tell which
+kingdom he belongs to&mdash;animal, vegetable, or mineral."</p>
+
+<p>And Plunger chuckled so that it seemed as though he would never be able
+to stop himself. Just to keep him company, Harry chuckled too.</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid little joke, isn't it, Harry?"</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid."</p>
+
+<p>"I told you what fun you'd have when you got to Garside. Better than
+Gaffer Quelch's, eh? Things were awfully slow there, weren't they,
+Harry?"</p>
+
+<p>"Awfully."</p>
+
+<p>But, so far as fun was concerned, Harry couldn't see that he had had
+very much of it, except at his own expense. Plunger had, in fact, made
+him his butt, and now he wished to score off Baldry through his
+instrumentality.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't quite understand you, Freddy," said Harry presently, as
+Plunger went on chuckling. "Who do you say was to be up in the tree at
+the back of the Forum and pull the string?"</p>
+
+<p>"You, Harry. I'm giving you the post of honour, because you deserve it.
+Baldry has poked fun at you a lot. Now it's your turn, old fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very kind of you, Freddy&mdash;it really is. I don't know how to be
+grateful enough. I'm to be in the tree, you say: but where will you be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'll do the whistling."</p>
+
+<p>"The whistling?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, to let you know up in the tree when Baldry comes along. Then,
+directly Baldry opens the door, you pull the string, and&mdash;there you are.
+Baldry in full plumage. It's all clear enough, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"All clear enough;&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But what? You're not going to cry off, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to cry off; but suppose we change places."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"You go up the tree and do the pulling, and let me do the whistling."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it'll be ever so much more fun to pull the string. I want to give
+you the best position, you see."</p>
+
+<p>"I know you do, Freddy. I know your good nature; but I'm not going to
+let you make the sacrifice. I'll do the whistling."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, if you wish it. I don't mind which I do," said Plunger, in a
+lofty tone. "Only don't make a mess of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my part's so simple, I can't make a mess of it. Mind you don't make
+a mess of yours, Freddy."</p>
+
+<p>Now Harry decided, immediately on quitting Plunger, that he would
+acquaint Baldry with the joke that Plunger intended to play upon him. It
+was he who had drawn that cartoon in the Forum that had stirred Plunger
+to wrath, and Harry came to the conclusion that it was not right that
+Baldry should suffer for him. Besides, as Plunger had so often scored
+over him, he thought it only right that he should begin to equalize
+matters. So he hunted up Baldry, and informed him of Plunger's kind
+intentions towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said Baldry, when Harry had ended, "that's Plunger's little game,
+is it? I thought he was getting a bit cross, but I didn't think he
+meant showing his teeth. The beauty of it is, I hadn't anything to do
+with that portrait of him on the Forum window. I know no more about it
+than you do."</p>
+
+<p>"Than I do!" echoed Harry, smiling to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"He made a better guess when he told you that I inspired those
+paragraphs in the <i>Record</i>. I just gave a hint to Jowett. Jowett passed
+it on to Jessel, and Jessel put in the smart bits that touched Plunger
+on the raw. Plunger's all right when he's going for other people, but he
+doesn't like it when others go for him."</p>
+
+<p>Harry quite sympathized with this view of things.</p>
+
+<p>"There's my name," went on Baldry. "I can't help my name. I didn't
+christen myself, and was never asked whether I liked it or not. That's
+the worst of names. You never are consulted. It's all done for you by
+your ancestors, and your godfathers and godmothers&mdash;and people of that
+sort. I don't know why it should be, but it is; and there you are&mdash;fixed
+up for life with a name, unless you happen to be a girl, and get
+married, then you drop it for another, but it may be ever so much worse
+than the one you've got. Now, what I say is this&mdash;Baldry isn't such a
+bad name, as names go, is it, Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>"Better than Plunger, any day," remarked Harry, in his most sympathetic
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Better than Plunger, as you say, Moncrief. Where Plunger's ancestors
+picked up a name like that, goodness only knows. It must have come out
+of the Ark. And yet he's always calling me 'Baldhead,' 'Bladder of
+Lard,' 'The Lost Hair,' and telling me to go in for hair-restorer,
+Tatcho, and making feeble jokes of that sort. But I think I went one
+better when I got that paragraph in the <i>Record</i>, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Baldry you scored there; but what we've got to think about is, how
+to prevent Plunger from scoring back. Some one will have to go to the
+Forum in answer to his invitation, when it comes. It won't matter who,
+because Plunger won't be able to see; he'll be up in the tree, waiting
+for my whistle. So who's to be the victim?"</p>
+
+<p>Baldry became thoughtful. He ran through the list of his acquaintances
+whom he thought most deserving of the honour that Plunger proposed to
+bestow on him. He thought of one or two in his form who might have been
+available for his purpose, but it was just possible that they were in
+the confidence of Plunger. So he turned from his own form to the
+Fifth&mdash;"the bounders of the Fifth."</p>
+
+<p>"I've got it," he suddenly exclaimed. "Percival!"</p>
+
+<p>"Percival!" echoed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; that's the ticket; the very thing&mdash;Percival. If it comes off all
+right, it'll be a big hit. We shall be covered with glory, and he'll be
+covered with feathers&mdash;ha, ha! It couldn't be better. Do you see how it
+fits in? A nice little present of feathers for the fellow who showed the
+white feather at the sand-pit. Isn't it splendid, Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry was silent. Percival had been far from his thoughts. He never
+imagined that Baldry would suggest Percival. For the moment his mind
+went back to that night when Paul came to Redmead. Once again he could
+hear the low, earnest tones of his father&mdash;"Many thanks for the great
+service you have done, Paul. You have not only done a great service for
+me and my brother, but for your country."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Moncrief; why don't you answer?" came the voice of Baldry. "It's
+the finest idea that has come to me for a long time. Feathers for the
+fellow who showed the white feather."</p>
+
+<p>At the words, the image of his father faded from Harry's mind. He could
+no longer hear the echo of his words. He only saw his cousin's bleeding
+face as he rose vanquished from the sand-pit; and, side by side with
+that picture, he saw Percival walking and talking, and shaking hands
+with "the wretched Beetle&mdash;Wyndham," as he had seen him walking and
+talking and shaking hands with him that afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>"A fine idea&mdash;splendid!" he cried. "Nothing could be better. Let
+Percival be the victim."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>HATCHING A PLOT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Nothing could be better. Let Percival be the victim!"</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely were the words out of Harry's lips than Viner come up to Baldry
+with the notice he was expecting. It was a hectograph copy, announcing
+that a meeting of the more important members of the Third Form would be
+held in the Forum at half-past six prompt to consider a matter of
+pressing importance.</p>
+
+<p>Baldry thanked Viner. Viner smirked and retreated.</p>
+
+<p>"Viner's in the know, that's certain," said Baldry, when he was out of
+earshot. "Viner's a crawler."</p>
+
+<p>Harry had no great reason to like Viner. It was he who had gone behind
+him on the day that he had entered Garside, so that Newall might push
+him over his back. From that incident the quarrel had arisen between
+Stanley and Newall, and other troubles had followed in its train.</p>
+
+<p>"You're right there; but now what's to be done?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's easy enough. We've only got to rub out 'Third Form' and put
+in 'Fifth,' and then send it on to Percival; and there you are."</p>
+
+<p>With the aid of a knife and some hectograph ink this alteration was soon
+made. The next question was how to get it to Percival without arousing
+suspicion. As they were considering this point Baldry caught sight of
+Hibbert crossing the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"There's our messenger," he exclaimed. Then he shouted, "Hibbert,
+Hibbert!"</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert looked round. Baldry beckoned him, and he came to where they
+were standing.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to give this note to Percival. If he asks you where it came
+from, tell him he will see inside. Then come away. Do you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Hibbert, looking suspiciously at the note.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, run along. It won't bite you."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert went off reluctantly with the note. It seemed now as though he
+were as anxious as the rest to avoid Paul. At any rate, he kept out of
+his way, but he could not very well refuse Baldry's request.</p>
+
+<p>He found Paul by himself, as usual, in the writing-room. He had
+commenced work in downright earnest on the prize essay.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo, Hibbert, is that you?" he asked, looking up as the boy entered.
+"What have you got there?"</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert handed him the notice without a word, but did not beat a retreat
+according to the instructions he had received.</p>
+
+<p>"Another meeting of the Fifth," Paul said, as much to himself as to
+Hibbert, when he had glanced at the note. "I wonder they trouble to send
+to me. It is too great an honour!"</p>
+
+<p>No suspicion as to the genuineness of the note crossed his mind. It was
+quite usual for Sedgefield, who acted as hon. sec. for the Fifth, to
+send out his notices with a messenger from the junior forms.</p>
+
+<p>"What's too great an honour, may I ask?" said Hibbert timidly.</p>
+
+<p>Paul explained to him the contents of the notice.</p>
+
+<p>"It's to call me over the coals again, I expect. Shall I go or shan't
+I?" he asked himself. Then, turning smilingly to the boy: "What would
+you do if you were in my place, Hibbert?"</p>
+
+<p>"Stay away," said the boy promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"And improve my reputation for courage&mdash;eh? Why would you stay away?"</p>
+
+<p>Having so far exceeded his instructions, Hibbert thought he might as
+well go a little further.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I don't believe that the Fifth had anything to do with that
+notice. It came from Baldry and Moncrief minor. I believe it's a trick."</p>
+
+<p>Paul, beginning to smell a rat, examined the notice with closer
+attention, and soon detected the erasion where "Fifth" had been
+substituted for "Third Form."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, Hibbert. I don't know why you should, but you're always doing
+me a good turn."</p>
+
+<p>"Not half the good turns you've done me," said the boy earnestly, as he
+went out.</p>
+
+<p>"What's in the wind?" Paul asked himself, when he was alone. "Bitter as
+Stanley is against me, he can't have set on his cousin to hoax and poke
+fun at me. Surely not?"</p>
+
+<p>What was it, then? He could not guess; but it seemed to him that he must
+have sunk very low indeed in the eyes of the school when he had become a
+target for the junior forms.</p>
+
+<p>"I must put my foot down on that nonsense," he said to himself, as he
+paced to and fro the room.</p>
+
+<p>At first he thought of making straight for Baldry and Moncrief minor,
+and demanding what it meant; but on second thoughts he decided against
+that course, because it would mean mischief to Hibbert. His life at the
+school would be made more miserable than it was.</p>
+
+<p>"The best thing after all will be to face it&mdash;to accept the invitation
+of Masters Moncrief and Baldry to the Forum to-night. I run the risk of
+being laughed at, I know, but I'm getting fairly used to that. And it's
+just possible I may be able to turn the tables."</p>
+
+<p>Having come to this decision, Paul did the wisest thing possible under
+the circumstances&mdash;dismissed the matter from his mind, and went on with
+his work.</p>
+
+<p>Now it so happened that a meeting of the Fifth had really been called
+for that evening in the Forum, and still stranger to relate, for the
+express purpose of discussing Paul. The information that he had been
+seen in the company of Wyndham, and had actually shaken hands with him,
+had quickly spread, and the meeting of the Fifth had been called for the
+express purpose of considering this further development in the feud
+between the Beetles and the Gargoyles. No notice of this meeting had,
+however, been sent to Paul.</p>
+
+<p>So it was that about the time Paul was getting ready to go to the Forum,
+little suspecting the proposed meeting, Newall had already started for
+it, just as ignorant of the little plot that had been hatched by certain
+members of the Third. Leveson had had some lines which had kept him late
+in the class-room, and Newall had taken his place in getting the shed
+ready for the meeting. Thus it happened he was in advance of the rest.</p>
+
+<p>It was quite dark as Newall made his way to the shed. Harry Moncrief was
+hiding at the side, with his whistle between his teeth. The figure
+coming towards the shed in the darkness he took to be the figure of
+Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"He's up to time," he chuckled to himself. "He's fallen into the trap
+beautifully."</p>
+
+<p>Newall reached the door of the shed, opened it, and passed in.
+Simultaneously Harry blew the whistle. At the signal, Plunger pulled the
+string which communicated with the basket immediately over the doorway,
+sending its contents showering down on the head of Newall.</p>
+
+<p>Newall gasped and staggered in the darkness, striking out wildly with
+his arms. He had a confused idea that some enormous bird of prey had
+suddenly swooped down from the roof, and was flapping its wings over his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"Ooshter&mdash;ooshter! Get out of it!" he gasped, as he reeled about and
+struck out wildly at his imaginary foe.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime Plunger had slid down quickly from the tree, and, accompanied
+by Viner and Bember, who had been awaiting the signal in the rear,
+rushed round to the front. The three held on to the door, so as to keep
+their victim floundering about in the darkness till they saw fit to
+release him.</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid; couldn't be better," chuckled Plunger. "My, isn't old Baldy
+carrying on?"</p>
+
+<p>His companions could not answer. They were doing their best to smother
+their laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"My, he's carrying on awful!" went on Plunger. "Breaking up the happy
+home. Didn't think Baldy had so much spring in him. Seems to be all over
+the shop. Do you hear him, Moncrief? Where is Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>Moncrief had made himself scarce. He had retreated to a safe distance,
+where Baldry was awaiting him. By the time he reached him, he, too, was
+exploding with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what's happened?" asked Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't ask me. It's too funny for words."</p>
+
+<p>"Percival's inside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Percival's inside, ramping about like mad, and Plunger, Viner, and
+Bember are holding the door outside like grim death, and laughing like
+hyenas over 'old Baldy.' Good, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>On that Baldry was seized with a fit of laughter too.</p>
+
+<p>"Good? The best joke we've had at Garside for a long time," answered
+Baldry, between gasps. "My, what will happen when they find out their
+mistake? What will they say when they see Percival stagger out instead
+of 'old Baldy?'"</p>
+
+<p>"Plunger will stagger the most of the two, I reckon," laughed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"I just reckon he will."</p>
+
+<p>"And I reckon also that he'd better keep out of the reach of Percival."</p>
+
+<p>"Percival!" echoed Baldry contemptuously. "Percival may ramp a good
+deal, but he's not likely to do much, I'm thinking, after his exhibition
+at the sand-pits. Percival is&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I beg pardon, but did I hear some one mention my name?" came a quiet
+voice in the rear of Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>Both boys turned promptly round at the voice. To their amazement
+Percival was standing before them.</p>
+
+<p>"Per&mdash;Percival!" exclaimed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Per&mdash;Percival!" echoed Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>"I happened to be strolling this way, and thought I heard my name; but
+perhaps I was mistaken."</p>
+
+<p>The boys could not speak. They could only stare with open mouths at
+Percival. It was a shadowy figure that stood before them in the
+darkness. Was it indeed Percival, or was it his ghost?</p>
+
+<p>"Y&mdash;y&mdash;yes; we&mdash;we&mdash;were speaking about you," stammered Baldry, at
+length. "We&mdash;were&mdash;just wondering&mdash;how you were getting on."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very kind of you to think of me," said Paul, with a quiet smile.</p>
+
+<p>Paul, quite ignorant of what had transpired in the shed, thought for the
+moment whether he had better tackle Baldry and Moncrief minor then and
+there as to their motive in desiring him to go to the shed, but on
+second thoughts he decided to find out for himself; so he passed on.</p>
+
+<p>"Pinch me&mdash;punch me&mdash;kick me", exclaimed Harry. "Am I awake or am I
+dreaming, Baldry?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was Percival right enough."</p>
+
+<p>"Then who&mdash;who's&mdash;in&mdash;the shed?" gasped Harry, a cold perspiration
+coming to his brow.</p>
+
+<p>"What an idiotic question to ask me," retorted Baldry indignantly. "You
+ought to know best. Are you sure there's anybody in the shed at all?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure of that. And&mdash;and&mdash;I could have sworn it was Percival."</p>
+
+<p>"You've made a nice mess of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if I have made a mess of it, I've kept you out of it," retorted
+Harry, beginning to feel sore at the tone taken by Baldry. "After all,
+Plunger and the others will be taken in a good deal more than we've
+been, remember. He still thinks it's you he's got a prisoner."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, so he does," exclaimed Baldry, breaking into laughter again;
+"I'd forgotten that. When that door opens it'll be one of the best
+little surprise packets Plunger's ever had in his life. Hallo, here
+comes a lot of the Fifth fellows, and they seem making for the shed,
+too!"</p>
+
+<p>The shadowy figures of Arbery, Parfitt, Hasluck, and a couple of others
+passed within a short distance of where the two boys were standing. They
+were conversing eagerly together.</p>
+
+<p>There was silence between them for a moment; then an unearthly yell rose
+on the air.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness! What was that? Enough to lift your hair off, wasn't it,
+Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry did not answer. He was trying to pierce the darkness to see what
+was happening in the direction of the shed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LAST BOND OF FRIENDSHIP</h3>
+
+
+<p>While Harry had been explaining to Baldry what had happened at the shed,
+Plunger and his two companions held fast to the door, under the
+impression that Baldry was within. Plunger was in a high state of glee
+at the capture he had made, and as soon as Harry had gone commenced
+crowing loudly, explaining as he did so that "as old Baldy seemed to be
+going in for dancing, he must give him a tune to dance to."</p>
+
+<p>"Put the soft pedal on for a bit, Freddy," said Viner. "He's saying
+things to himself. Let's listen."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger, who had nearly crowed himself hoarse, kept silent for a moment,
+as a smothered voice from within travelled through the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Open the door&mdash;open the door!"</p>
+
+<p>"Keep your wool on, Baldy!" retorted Plunger, in his most provoking
+tones. "Drop the clog-dancing, and give us a song; it's getting
+monotonous. What's the best rhyme for Baldy? How're the birds, beasts,
+and fishes getting on? What's the kingdom you've sprinted to&mdash;animal,
+vegetable, or mineral? Any more paragraphs for Jessell? We'll take them
+along."</p>
+
+<p>"Open the door! I'll&mdash;I'll smash you when I get out of this!" came the
+voice from within.</p>
+
+<p>"Smash us? Oh, oh, Baldy!" commenced Plunger, but Viner stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>"Quiet, Freddy. Listen a moment. It doesn't sound to me like Baldy."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you open that door? I'll pay you out for this! I'll&mdash;I'll&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;why, it's Newall!" whispered Plunger, aghast. "How's he got in
+there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't ask me," said Viner, turning cold, for he had always been on
+particularly good terms with Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Can there be two of them in there, do you think?" suggested Bember.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, I see it all!" said Plunger, a light beginning to dawn upon him.
+"Moncrief minor's let us in for this. That's the reason he's bolted."</p>
+
+<p>"Seems to me we'd better bolt too," exclaimed Bember. "There won't be
+much left of you, Freddy, if Newall gets hold of you."</p>
+
+<p>"What price you? You're just as much in it as I am."</p>
+
+<p>But Bember's advice commended itself to Plunger and Viner, neither of
+whom was desirous of meeting their captive when he was released, so,
+suddenly letting go their hold of the door, they bolted with all speed
+in the direction of the school.</p>
+
+<p>Newall continued shouting his threats at the top of his voice for a few
+moments before he discovered that no one was on guard outside; then he
+flung open the door, and dashed through with a yell, just as Arbery,
+Parfitt, Hasluck, and others of the Fifth had started for the shed. They
+came to a sudden stop when they saw the extraordinary figure that rushed
+towards them in the darkness. And well they might, for Newall, smothered
+in feathers from head to foot, presented one of the most extraordinary
+sights it is possible to imagine.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Arbery, in an awestruck whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Ask me another. It&mdash;it looks like&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But before Hasluck could explain what it looked like Newall had dashed
+up to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Newall!" came the astonished cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Who&mdash;who's been doing this?" he cried, glaring fiercely round on his
+companions.</p>
+
+<p>"Doing what?" asked Hasluck.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you see? Nearly smothering me with feathers, and fastening me in
+the Forum."</p>
+
+<p>"We know nothing of it. We were just coming to the meeting when we heard
+the shouting," answered Parfitt, in an injured tone. "Is it likely we'd
+play a trick on you, Newall?"</p>
+
+<p>"It sounded like some of those imps of the Third. They were talking to
+me as if I were Baldry."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Paul joined the group, wondering what was the matter.
+Directly Newall caught sight of him, he turned towards him fiercely:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know anything of this? Had you a hand in it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you are talking about," answered Paul coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. You never do when it suits your purpose. Can we believe
+anything from the fellow who shakes hands with a Beetle&mdash;with the enemy
+of Garside?" came the sneering answer.</p>
+
+<p>Paul staggered back as though he had been struck. Some one had seen him
+shake hands with Wyndham then, and, without knowing the facts, his
+enemies were already putting the worst possible construction on it.
+Stanley had joined the group as Newall was speaking.</p>
+
+<p>"If you can't believe anything I say, what's the use of asking me
+questions? It seems to me a waste of breath."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you or did you not set those fellows on to keep me in the shed?"
+demanded Newall hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to answer you," said Paul firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then perhaps you'll answer me," said Stanley, stepping forward to
+Newall's side, pale to the lips.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had not noticed his arrival, and did not know that he was present
+till he heard his voice. It stirred the old feeling of love and
+friendship within him, though there was little that was friendly in its
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Answer you what, Stan?" asked Paul, in softer tones.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley knew little of the grounds of the present dispute, but he
+guessed that he could not be far wrong in repeating the question that
+Newall had just put. So he repeated it.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'll answer it," came Paul's response, "for whatever else you may
+think me guilty of, Stanley, I don't think you'll believe me guilty of
+telling a deliberate falsehood. I haven't set anybody on to keep Newall
+a prisoner in the shed, and, whatever has happened to him, I've had no
+hand in it."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with such earnestness and sincerity that there was scarcely any
+one present, with perhaps the exception of Newall himself, who doubted
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you can take Percival's word for it," said Stanley, turning to
+Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks so much for one crumb of confidence." Paul, in spite of himself,
+could not prevent a slight accent of bitterness creeping into his voice.
+"It is really very good of you to think that my word may be taken, and I
+hope you won't think me ungrateful."</p>
+
+<p>"If you say his word may be taken, Moncrief," said Newall, with a shrug
+of his shoulders, "that's enough. But as you have so much confidence in
+him, you'd better question him about the Beetle."</p>
+
+<p>"I was going to," answered Stanley, as, once more turning to Paul, he
+asked: "One of the fellows saw you speaking to a Beetle yesterday. Is
+that true?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite true."</p>
+
+<p>"Shaking hands with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley groaned inwardly. He had hoped that it was a mistake&mdash;that his
+cousin's eyes had deceived him, but there was no mistake. It was only
+too true. He turned away, unable to hide the disappointment on his face.
+Paul caught a glimpse of it in spite of the darkness, and was about to
+speak, but Newall quickly interposed.</p>
+
+<p>"There's another question which Moncrief's modesty prevents him from
+asking," he said, with a sneer. "We've been given to understand that the
+Beetle you shook hands with is the same Beetle who knocked Moncrief
+about in the sand-pit. Is that true, too?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul was silent, as though he still stood to the resolution he had made
+not to answer Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it&mdash;is it?" demanded Stanley, turning swiftly round again, his tone
+almost as fierce as Newall's had been.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; it is true." Then he added in a lower voice: "There are things I
+can't explain. Will you meet me quietly, by yourself, just for a few
+minutes, Stanley?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing I'm ashamed of. I've no secrets," came the proud, cold
+answer. "If you've anything to explain, explain it now&mdash;in the presence
+of my friend Newall and the rest!"</p>
+
+<p>"My friend Newall!" The words froze up all the warmer feelings in Paul's
+breast. It was as though Stanley had taken a knife from his pocket, and
+with one cruel stroke severed the last bond of friendship between them,
+and had then bound with firmer hand the bonds that bound him to Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. If that is your last word, I've spoken my last word too."</p>
+
+<p>And Paul turned on his heel, leaving them to draw what conclusions they
+liked from his answer.</p>
+
+<p>Newall and his companions set to work removing the feathers which had
+descended on him in such a shower, and while they were actively engaged
+in it Waterman came leisurely along, late as usual, and drawled out:</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo, Newall! What's wrong? Been moulting?"</p>
+
+<p>Newall disdained to answer. It was some time before he got clear of the
+feathers, and then they left unmistakable marks.</p>
+
+<p>"It won't be long before I find out who served me this trick," he said;
+"but I don't think we want to go to the shed now over the other matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Newall's had more than enough of the shed already, seems to me,"
+drawled Waterman.</p>
+
+<p>"Dry up, Water. You're getting it on the brain," responded Newall
+gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>"I think Newall's quite right," said Stanley. "There's no need for any
+meeting now. We've found out that it's all true enough about
+Percival&mdash;that he has met a Beetle, that he has spoken to him, that he
+has shaken hands with him that he is on friendly terms with him. He's
+admitted it, so it's no use going to the shed."</p>
+
+<p>There was a murmur of assent.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, but you can't leave it at that. Something more must be done, else
+Percival will be laughing at us in his sleeve," said Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not&mdash;why shouldn't we leave it at that?" said Waterman. "What's the
+use of worrying over trifles? Percival talks to a Beetle. Why on earth
+shouldn't he, if he likes it? Percival shakes hands with a Beetle.
+Again, I ask, where's the objection, so long as he doesn't want me to do
+it, or any other fellow in the Form. What's the use of making such an
+awful smoke?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think we'd better truss him with Waterman," suggested Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"That's better than being feathered anyhow," retorted Waterman coolly.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, what's to be done? We can't stay here all night," said Hasluck.
+"Leveson will be up presently with his stop-watch."</p>
+
+<p>"We oughtn't to have a fellow like Percival in the school," Parfitt
+commented. "The thing is how to get rid of him. We can't go up to Weevil
+and ask that he shall be turned out. And we can't do what we'd like to
+do&mdash;kick him out."</p>
+
+<p>"No, we can't very well do that," struck in Newall. "There's only one
+way."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" cried four or five in chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"Make it too warm for the school to hold him."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; don't do that," came in quick, tense tones from Stanley. "I
+wouldn't like to be one to drive Percival from Garside."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I," added Waterman, with unusual emphasis for him.</p>
+
+<p>"You!" retorted Newall contemptuously; "you don't count. Moncrief does.
+What's your objection, Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>"Percival was once my friend," came the sad answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Friend!" was the scornful reply.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE RAFT ON THE RIVER</h3>
+
+
+<p>From this time every effort was made to make Paul's life at Garside
+unendurable. The dead set against him extended from the Fifth Form
+downwards. The views which Newall had expressed with so much force on
+the night he had been feathered reigned supreme throughout the school.
+It was felt that Paul had no place there, and that as he would not go of
+his own free will, it was the bounden duty of all of them to follow
+Newall's advice, and drive him from it. So the war against him was
+carried on&mdash;not so much openly as secretly&mdash;by every petty means that
+could be devised.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley, to his credit, took no part in this secret warfare against
+Paul. He had still some affection for him; but though he took no part in
+it, he made no effort to check it. The fact was that he was getting more
+and more under the thumb of Newall and Parfitt every day.</p>
+
+<p>Even Hibbert seemed to have deserted him. At any rate, Paul saw but
+little of him at this time, and when he did see him, the boy only
+greeted him with a wan, frightened smile, as though he were afraid to
+speak.</p>
+
+<p>Waterman was about the only one who showed no change of manner towards
+him. He was still quite friendly in his lazy fashion. It was he who had
+first given the hint to Paul of the movement on foot against him.</p>
+
+<p>"I may as well put you on your guard, Percival," he said, on the day
+following Newall's declaration against Paul. "You've put up the backs of
+all the Form, and a lot of fellows outside it. They're going for you.
+They mean driving you from Garside."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought something was on foot. Thanks for telling me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you'd have soon found out, you know, without my telling you. But
+you needn't give me away. I only just mention it so that you may know
+what's in the wind. Don't worry. It's not worth it."</p>
+
+<p>With this characteristic piece of advice Waterman left him.</p>
+
+<p>"Trying to drive me from the school," Paul repeated to himself. "Well,
+they may try, and beat me in the long run, but they won't find it easy.
+'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.' By God's help I'll try to be true to the
+school motto."</p>
+
+<p>Having come to that determination, Paul set his teeth hard, and put his
+back to the wall. And so, though scarcely a day passed without bringing
+some fresh insult or tyranny, he still held firm to the position he had
+taken up&mdash;to the resolve he had made with himself and his God. It must
+be admitted, however, that the cup was sometimes very near to
+overflowing.</p>
+
+<p>His lot might have been easier to bear had he received some answer to
+the letter he had written to Mr. Moncrief; but as day followed day
+without any response, it seemed to him that Mr. Moncrief disdained
+writing to him, or did not think his letter worth answering. He came to
+the conclusion that Stanley must have written to his uncle, telling him
+what had happened at the sand-pit, and the feeling against Paul at the
+school, and so had poisoned his mind against him.</p>
+
+<p>Once or twice Paul thought of writing to the one friend who never failed
+him&mdash;his mother&mdash;and unburdening his breast to her; but the thought only
+came to him to be dismissed. It would only make her miserable. She had
+suffered enough in the past without being worried with his petty
+troubles at school. So he determined to stand alone&mdash;to fight out the
+battle by himself.</p>
+
+<p>Things were at this pass when an event happened which caused some stir
+at Garside.</p>
+
+<p>About a mile from the school ran the river. Its course lay in
+picturesque variety through peaceful pastoral country, cornfields, and
+orchards. One part of it was spanned by an old wooden bridge. This
+bridge had become so dilapidated by time and wear that the county
+justices had decided that it was dangerous for traffic. So to prevent
+the possibility of an accident, it was decided to pull it down, and
+replace it with a new one.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, the bridge was pulled down, and a new one begun. To aid in
+this task, a raft was used by the workmen in crossing the river.</p>
+
+<p>Now Plunger and his companions in the Third Form were deeply interested
+in the work that was going on at the river, but what interested Plunger
+most of all was the raft. It seemed to him that he would like to live
+upon that raft. What could be more delightful than gliding up and down
+the stream on it for ever. Then he thought of the many adventures that
+had happened on rafts&mdash;of the many shipwrecked passengers that had been
+saved on them.</p>
+
+<p>"Wish I had one of my own," he remarked to Harry, as the two stood
+watching the men crossing the stream one half-holiday. "Wouldn't it be
+jolly fun?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very," answered Harry, who, fired by Plunger's enthusiasm, began to
+share his longing.</p>
+
+<p>It should be mentioned that Plunger's attitude towards Harry had changed
+since the night when Newall had been feathered in mistake for Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>To use the phrase of the Third&mdash;"Moncrief minor had scored," and Plunger
+never respected anybody till they had succeeded in scoring over him&mdash;in
+other words, beaten him at his own game. Since then he had begun to
+tolerate Harry, and receive him on something like a footing of equality.</p>
+
+<p>"Those fellows," went on Plunger, nodding his head in the direction of
+the workmen on the raft, "are so beastly selfish."</p>
+
+<p>"How, Freddy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I tried to get on that raft when it was lying idle the other day;
+but they commenced shouting at me like mad. I wasn't doing any harm."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not."</p>
+
+<p>"If they'd been using it, it'd have been a different thing; but they
+weren't. So why couldn't they have let me cross the river on it&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why. They ought to have been glad to. They didn't know the
+honour they were losing. Now, if you'd only have told 'em who you
+were&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Shut up!" cried Plunger, pinching Harry's arm. "But, I say, couldn't we
+just have some lovely games, if we only had a raft like that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lovely," assented Harry.</p>
+
+<p>Here was silence between them for some moments, as they watched the raft
+and the men upon it with envious eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Duffers!" exclaimed Plunger, at length giving expression to his
+feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't take on so, Freddy."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't help it&mdash;duffers!" repeated Plunger, with still greater emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>Silence again, broken by Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you really like to go on that raft, Freddy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Stow poking fun."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not poking fun, I'm quite serious. Seems to me that if we really
+wanted to go on that raft, and really made up our minds to it, we ought
+to be able to manage it."</p>
+
+<p>"How?" came the eager question.</p>
+
+<p>"Easy enough if we go the right way, and don't make a mess of it, like
+Newall did that night when he walked into the Forum."</p>
+
+<p>"We're not talking about the Forum," said Plunger quickly, giving Harry
+another pinch. "We're talking about rafts&mdash;that raft," pointing to the
+one on the river.</p>
+
+<p>"And it's that raft I'm talking about. Have you ever noticed what
+happens on a Saturday?"</p>
+
+<p>"Many things happen on a Saturday; but what is the one thing that
+happens in particular?"</p>
+
+<p>"The workmen on the bridge leave off exactly as the clock strikes
+twelve&mdash;a little bit sooner if they can manage it. Never later."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes; they're very punctual at leaving off. But what's that to do
+with the raft?"</p>
+
+<p>"A good deal. They always leave the raft tied up under the bridge. What
+would be easier than to untie it, and there you are."</p>
+
+<p>"Harry, you're a genius&mdash;a reg'lar genius!" cried Plunger, bringing his
+hand down on Harry's back. "It never sprouted out like that when you
+were at Gaffer Quelch's. It's come on since you've been at Garside. I
+must have helped it."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger had undoubtedly helped in the development of what he was pleased
+to term Harry's "genius," but whether altogether to the advantage of
+Harry time alone could show.</p>
+
+<p>"You helped it, Freddy! The only help you give is helping Number One.
+You ought to have belonged to the help-myself society. You'd have been
+just the fellow for the president."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger kicked Harry, and Harry returned the compliment; then their eyes
+went to the river again, and the raft, which was just getting under way
+again to cross to the other side.</p>
+
+<p>"Those duffers don't know how to use a raft," said Harry contemptuously,
+after he had been watching the workmen for some moments.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course they don't. That's the worst of being landlubbers. Wish we
+could only take them in hand and show them."</p>
+
+<p>"One of 'em ought to be wearing a suit of goatskins and things of that
+sort, with a great cap on his head, with the hair on the outside to
+shoot off the rain if it came on," said Harry thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Like Robinson Crusoe, you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like Robinson Crusoe. That slim fellow with the black hair would do for
+Friday, and the others could be Indians&mdash;if they only knew how to do
+things properly; but they don't."</p>
+
+<p>"They don't," repeated Plunger emphatically. "My, if we only had the
+working of that raft, Harry, we'd make things hum!"</p>
+
+<p>It was tantalizing to watch the men, so they turned away with visions of
+what it would be possible to accomplish if they only had possession of
+the raft. They could discover a desert island on the other side of the
+river, pitch their tent on it, and do "lots of things." Full of these
+splendid visions, they walked along in silence, each busy with his own
+thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we can work it, Harry," Plunger at length remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Work what?"</p>
+
+<p>"That Crusoe idea. We can get the raft next Saturday, and easily peg out
+a desert island on the other side of the river. I shan't want to dress
+up much. I've got a ragged jacket which'll be near enough for skins, and
+a soft felt which I can cut round the brim with Mrs. Trounce's scissors.
+That'll do for the hat."</p>
+
+<p>"Whose hat?"</p>
+
+<p>"Crusoe's hat, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"And who's going to wear it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who's going to wear it?" Plunger's eyebrows disappeared into the roots
+of his hair in amazement at the question. "I am, of course!"</p>
+
+<p>"You mean that you're going to be Crusoe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course!"</p>
+
+<p>And Plunger's eyebrows remained so high up in the roots of his hair at
+the bare idea of anybody else playing the part that it seemed as though
+they would never come down again.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, but where do I come in?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can be Friday or an Indian."</p>
+
+<p>"And make myself black, and go about without any shoes and socks on, and
+get thorns in my feet, and&mdash;and things like that. No, Freddy; no, I
+don't! We'll change parts. I'll be Crusoe; you be Friday. You look more
+like a savage than I do."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger did not seem altogether pleased with the compliment, for he
+brought his knuckles down on Harry's head; but Harry was not quite the
+meek boy he was when he first came to Garside, so he returned the
+compliment, with interest. Then Plunger tried by cajolery to induce him
+to let him be Crusoe, and satisfy himself with the part of Friday, but
+Harry remained firm.</p>
+
+<p>"I first thought of it," he argued, "and I ought to have first choice.
+If we're going on that raft, I'm going as Crusoe, Freddy."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger preserved a gloomy silence for some moments; then he suddenly
+lifted his head, and his eyes sparkled.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got it. Why shouldn't there be two Crusoes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Two Crusoes! You and I, Freddy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Harry had never heard of two Crusoes existing on the desert island at
+one and the same time, but he didn't see why there shouldn't be. It
+would be more up to date. Besides it solved the difficulty, so he
+promptly consented.</p>
+
+<p>"But, who'll be Man Friday?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we'll make the Camel Man Friday. He'll do splendidly."</p>
+
+<p>"The Camel" was the cruel nickname it will be remembered that Newall had
+given to Hibbert. Unfortunately, a name like that sticks, and it had
+stuck to Hibbert.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+
+<h3>ON A VOYAGE OF ADVENTURE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Moncrief minor and Plunger, having decided that they would improve upon
+Defoe's famous story and introduce two Crusoes into their forthcoming
+adventures instead of one, and having further decided that Hibbert
+should be Man Friday, it only remained to put their project into
+execution as soon as possible.</p>
+
+<p>A little way down the river, on the opposite side to that on which the
+raft was usually moored, was a plantation. It had a thick growth of
+furze and bushes, and save for the rabbits and squirrels, was quite
+desolate during the winter. What better place could be selected for the
+desert island?</p>
+
+<p>"Just the ticket," said Plunger, rubbing his hands, after he and Harry
+had explored the plantation with a view to their forthcoming enterprise.
+"Couldn't have been better if it had been built for us. We must be
+careful, though, and not let old Baldhead and the others know anything
+about it. They'll all want to cut in&mdash;Sedgefield, Bember, and the rest.
+I know them. Two Crusoes are quite enough at one time, don't you think?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry quite agreed with Plunger. In fact, he was rather doubtful whether
+two weren't too many&mdash;too many by one. But he didn't hint it to Plunger,
+for fear of bringing up the old dispute.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you sounded the Camel?" Plunger asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet; but I don't think he'll mind, except for one thing."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Having his face blacked. He's sure to object to that."</p>
+
+<p>"But he needn't know anything about it till we get him over in the
+plantation; then he can kick and squeal as much as he likes. It won't
+matter. Let's hunt him up now."</p>
+
+<p>The two thereupon went in search of Hibbert. When they found him, Harry
+informed him in glowing language of their project for the coming
+Saturday.</p>
+
+<p>"And just by way of a little treat we thought we'd take you with us,"
+said Plunger, as Harry concluded his explanation. "It'll be fine fun.
+When we get on the desert island we can have splendid adventures!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; it'll be fine fun, as you say; but I'd rather not," answered
+Hibbert, for whom the river had little attraction. He somehow feared it.
+"I'll give way to some of the others."</p>
+
+<p>"But you're not going to give way. You're too fond of taking a back
+seat. You never have any fun; the other fellows have plenty. It's a
+jolly shame!" exclaimed Plunger, waxing indignant. "It isn't right, is
+it, Harry?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it isn't," Harry promptly assented. "I don't see why the Camel
+shouldn't have as much fun as the rest of us."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but I don't want it. I'm quite content."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's it. You're too content; but we're not. We mean making things
+better for you. It's nearly time some alteration was made. Baldry,
+Sedgefield, and the others would never think of giving you a bit of
+pleasure. They're too selfish&mdash;aren't they, Harry?"</p>
+
+<p>"Awfully!"</p>
+
+<p>"So we're leaving them out of it, and you're coming with us instead,
+Hibbert. We'll have a good time, I can tell you."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger spoke with so much earnestness, and was backed up by Harry with
+no less earnestness, that Hibbert really thought that their sole object
+in taking him with them on the raft was to give him "a bit of pleasure."
+It was perfectly clear also that they would take no denial; so Hibbert,
+making a virtue of necessity, reluctantly consented.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever you do don't let out what we're going to do to the other
+fellows," was Plunger's parting injunction, "or they'll be eating their
+heads off with envy."</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, in spite of Plunger's injunction, the secret leaked out.
+Indeed, it would have been an astonishing thing if it hadn't, for the
+proposed adventure on the raft had taken such complete possession of the
+mind of Plunger, that he could think of little else. He dreamt about it,
+and talked it over with Harry at every opportunity. In addition to this,
+they had been seen carrying parcels in the direction of the plantation.</p>
+
+<p>The long-looked-for Saturday at length came. It had been agreed between
+the two confederates that, so as to avoid suspicion, Plunger should
+stroll up to the bridge just before the hour the men left off work, and
+that Harry should arrive on the scene a few minutes later with Hibbert,
+from another direction.</p>
+
+<p>"If anybody's about they won't suspect anything," said Plunger. "We
+shall meet as if by accident, and keep out of the way till the road's
+clear."</p>
+
+<p>Precisely as arranged, Plunger strolled up to the old bridge, which by
+this time was almost demolished. The workmen had made fast the raft to a
+stake at the side of the river, and, having received their wages,
+hastened off at the stroke of twelve. No one heeded Plunger. A few
+minutes later, Harry came up with Hibbert, who was trying to look as
+happy as possible under the circumstances, but was nevertheless far from
+comfortable. The river always seemed so cruel to him&mdash;so treacherous.
+And somehow it had seemed more cruel, more treacherous, since Paul had
+told him the story of his father's death.</p>
+
+<p>"All serene, Harry," cried Plunger. "The road's clear. We've got it all
+to ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>"That's good," said Harry. "We're in luck's way. Let's make hay while
+the sun shines. Wait for us on the towing-path, Hibbert. We'll soon be
+alongside."</p>
+
+<p>Leaving Hibbert on the towing-path, the two boys got on the raft, and
+proceeded to untie it from the stake to which it was attached. This did
+not take them long, and, having secured a punting-pole, they soon
+brought the raft to where Hibbert was awaiting them.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd&mdash;I'd rather not go," said the boy hesitating.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk rubbish. Get on. You don't mean to say you funk it?"</p>
+
+<p>To tell the truth, Hibbert did "funk it," though there seemed so little
+to fear; but he was, as we know, a nervous, timid boy. None the less, he
+always tried to disguise his feelings even to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Funk&mdash;not a bit; but&mdash;but I'm never much help, and&mdash;and I thought I
+might be in the way. It's a jolly raft, isn't he!" he said, as he
+stepped on.</p>
+
+<p>"Jolly."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger pushed off and they went slowly down the river in the direction
+of the plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"It's smooth enough here, but what must it be like on the sea, eh?"
+asked Plunger, after an interval of silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Without any food or water and no sign of a sail."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, famishing with hunger and casting lots which shall die," added
+Plunger cheerfully, glaring at Hibbert, as though he contemplated him
+for a victim. Hibbert, pale before, turned to an ashen hue. "Why, what's
+the matter, Camel? Don't you feel well? Seasick?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I'm all right. Is&mdash;isn't it jolly?" answered Hibbert, with a feeble
+attempt at a smile.</p>
+
+<p>Though Hibbert was far from enjoying himself, in spite of trying to
+impress upon himself that he was, his companions were in their element.
+As they floated along the river, they imagined themselves to be
+adventurers, bent on discovery and deeds of heroism. All the same Harry
+began to feel that Plunger, as usual, was trying to take up the position
+of command, and make him play second fiddle.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Freddy," he presently burst out, "isn't it time that I did a bit
+of punting?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like you to have a try, I really would; but it's not so easy as it
+looks. You've never done any punting, and you don't know how hard it
+is."</p>
+
+<p>"And what do you know about it? You've never done any of it till now.
+You're not going to gammon me, Freddy; so hand over the pole."</p>
+
+<p>As Plunger did not seem inclined to give up the pole, Harry caught hold
+of it, with the intention of enforcing his demands. As he did so, the
+raft swayed, and Hibbert, crying out in alarm, clutched Harry in turn to
+steady himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be an ass, Harry," exclaimed Plunger hotly. "You'll have us over
+in a minute. We're not on dry land. We're not out for a picnic."</p>
+
+<p>"Give up the pole, then. We were to go halves&mdash;share and share alike. I
+know as much about punting as you do; so let me have a turn."</p>
+
+<p>"Put me on land," said Hibbert appealingly, fearing that a struggle
+would take place between the two boys.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be such an awful funk, Camel," exclaimed Plunger roughly. "Let
+go, Harry. Don't play about on this bit of wood or over we go. I'm not
+insured, if you are. I said we'd go halves, and so we will. Let me
+finish punting to the plantation and you shall do the punting back."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do."</p>
+
+<p>Satisfied with this promise, Harry let go the pole, much to the relief
+of Hibbert. The rest of the voyage was passed without further dispute,
+and in a little while they reached the plantation in safety. Having
+secured the raft, they made their way into the thicket. Hibbert
+timorously inquired where they were going.</p>
+
+<p>"We told you we were out for adventures," explained Plunger. "Harry and
+me are Crusoes&mdash;twins, you see."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert nodded assent, but he could not help thinking that he had never
+seen twins who were so utterly unlike each other as the two before him.</p>
+
+<p>"You're to be Friday, Camel."</p>
+
+<p>"Friday&mdash;yes," Hibbert feebly assented. "Wha&mdash;what's he to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's got to discover us&mdash;the twin Crusoes."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert thought that to balance things there ought to be a twin Friday,
+but he only repeated, "Twin Crusoes&mdash;yes." As he did so, he thought he
+heard a rustling among the bushes, as though some wild beast were
+crawling amongst them. He looked round with a shiver, but saw nothing.
+Plunger and Harry, too intent on their enterprise to hear anything, had
+been groping about in the thicket for something they had hidden there.
+Presently Plunger cried, "Got it!"</p>
+
+<p>He drew out a brown-paper parcel from its hiding-place as he spoke,
+while Harry explained as he did so:</p>
+
+<p>"This is to be a sort of dress rehearsal, you see. The next time we come
+we shall be able to do the thing properly."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we've only got the hats and Friday's wig, and the stuff for his
+face," went on Plunger, as he pitched a brimless felt hat to Harry and
+clapped one of similar design on his own head. "We mean having the skin
+coats next time. Here's your wig, Camel&mdash;Friday, I mean. Let's see how
+it fits."</p>
+
+<p>He took from the parcel a wig, which had been skilfully designed from a
+couple of fluffy woollen table mats, once the property of Mrs. Trounce.
+Pulling off Hibbert's cap, Plunger fixed this curiously fashioned wig on
+the boy's head.</p>
+
+<p>"Fits to a T. Doesn't it, Harry?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Wish we only had a looking-glass here so that you could see yourself in
+it, Camel," went on Plunger. "You only want painting up a bit, and there
+you are. Hold your face down while Moncrief puts on the artistic
+touches."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert feebly protested. He didn't want his face painted.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, look here, Camel," said Plunger, giving his arm a twist which made
+him wince, "we're not going to hurt you; so don't be silly. Friday was a
+savage, you know, and savages don't go about with white faces, and yours
+is awfully white. Don't be silly, I say."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert wriggled for a moment, but seeing that it was useless for him to
+struggle further, gave in with as good grace as possible. Harry at once
+went to work on his face. First of all greasing it, he next smeared it
+with burnt cork, until Hibbert was as black as a nigger. Thus blackened,
+and with the rudely fashioned wig as crown, Hibbert presented a curious
+appearance indeed. The two burst into laughter when they had finished.
+Their laughter seemed to echo through the plantation. Suddenly their
+laughter was checked.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hear it? Strange, wasn't it?" said Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert looked tremblingly round. Of a sudden an unearthly yell rent the
+air, and half a dozen dusky figures leapt from the bushes in the
+distance. Flourishing curiously-shaped weapons, very like tomahawks,
+they rushed, yelling and screaming, towards the bewildered boys.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>WHAT HAPPENED ON THE RAFT</h3>
+
+
+<p>Hibbert, a picture of terror, turned and fled towards the river, and
+Plunger and Harry, imagining for the moment that they had been set upon
+by real savages, promptly followed his example. The dusky figures
+followed in pursuit, still yelling their outlandish cries.</p>
+
+<p>"Ka-pei, ka-pei! Houp, houp! O-jib-e-way! Koo-oo, koo-oo!"</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert ran as he had never run before in his life. Terror lent speed to
+his feet. He had got the start of his companions, so that they only drew
+up to him as he reached the river.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick&mdash;the raft!" shouted Plunger. "They'll be on us in a minute."</p>
+
+<p>It was the raft for which Hibbert was making.</p>
+
+<p>"Ka-pei, ka-pei! Houp, Houp! O-jib-e-way! Koo-oo, koo-oo!"</p>
+
+<p>The cries of the pursuers drew nearer and nearer. Hibbert reached the
+raft and leapt on it.</p>
+
+<p>"Undo the rope! I'll push off!" panted Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>Harry never thought of the promise Plunger had made&mdash;that he should punt
+the raft back. His only desire was that they should put the river
+between them and their pursuers as quickly as possible. In less than a
+moment he had undone the rope which bound the raft to the bank, and
+leapt to Plunger's side. Brief as the space of time, it had enabled the
+foremost of their pursuers to reach the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"Push off, Freddy," cried Harry.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger pushed off in desperation. Too late! The foremost of the
+pursuers had followed them on to the raft. Plunger could see the dusky
+face looking into his. The raft had floated a little way from the bank.
+With another unearthly cry three more of the savage-looking figures
+leapt on.</p>
+
+<p>The raft swayed ominously. Plunger made a wild endeavour to push further
+out into the stream. The raft lurched forward. There was a cry of
+horror, a splash, and the next moment three of the boys&mdash;Plunger,
+Hibbert, and one of "the savages"&mdash;were struggling in the water.</p>
+
+<p>The impetus given to the raft had taken it out into midstream, and when
+the three rose to the surface, it was at some distance from them. By the
+ducking in the water the paint of the "noble savage" was running down
+his face, and Plunger, in that terrible moment, recognized that it was
+Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger knew little of swimming. Fortunately, Baldry knew more of it
+than he did, and was able to clutch him by the arm and hold him up. But
+those on the raft saw with horror that they had floated right away from
+Hibbert, and that was he drowning before their eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Harry looked round for the punting-hole, in the hope that he might go to
+the aid of the drowning boy. Alas! Plunger had carried the pole with him
+when he had fallen into the river, and it was now floating down the
+stream at some distance from them.</p>
+
+<p>"The Camel's drowning!" gasped Harry.</p>
+
+<p>The boys on the raft saw that he was. They had caught sight of the white
+face as it rose for the second time to the surface. And they stood
+there, transfixed horrified, at the tragedy that was taking place before
+them. Unable to find the punting-pole, Harry would have leapt into the
+river, but Sedgefield, one of the "savages" who had jumped upon the
+raft, was just in time to clutch him by the arm and hold him back.</p>
+
+<p>"Look, Moncrief! That's Percival, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry stood, trembling in every limb, on the edge of the raft, and
+followed the direction of Sedgefield's finger. Yes, Percival it was. Cut
+off from the games of his companions, left entirely to himself, he had
+brought out his rod and line to pass an hour or so angling. While thus
+occupied, he had heard the shouts and cries raised by the "savages" on
+the opposite bank.</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong?" he asked himself, as he stood quite still and listened.</p>
+
+<p>The shouting grew louder; the yells more unearthly, and in a tongue, as
+it seemed to him, he had never heard before.</p>
+
+<p>Dropping his rod, he raced along the bank, just in time to to see from a
+distance the raft push off with the boys upon it, and the disaster that
+followed, as it floated further into the stream. He paused for an
+instant as he breathlessly watched the scene; then raced forward at full
+speed, flung off his jacket, waistcoat, and boots, and struck out, hand
+over hand, to where Hibbert was struggling in the water.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, Paul was a powerful swimmer. Even in his cradle his father
+had taken his little hand in his large one, and, while looking lovingly
+in his face, had said to the wife who sat beside him:</p>
+
+<p>"The son of a sea-dog, the son of a sea-dog! He must never know the fear
+of water."</p>
+
+<p>Alas! it was the cruel water which had carried off the father, but the
+son had grown up true to his wish&mdash;he had never known the fear of water.
+So he had become a bold and powerful swimmer. With a swift, sweeping
+side-stroke he reached Hibbert's side, just as he was sinking for the
+last time. Clutching the drowning boy by the hair, he held him up; then,
+turning on his back, he drew him to his chest, and, kicking out with his
+feet, soon reached the bank.</p>
+
+<p>Placing the boy gently on the turf, Paul gazed anxiously into his face.
+The eyes were closed; the lips ghastly blue; the heart seemed still.</p>
+
+<p>"Hibbert, Hibbert!" cried Paul, as he tried to restore animation.</p>
+
+<p>No answer came to his pleading cry. The eyes still remained closed. A
+big fear took possession of Paul. Had the eyes closed never to open
+more? Had help come when it was too late? Was the little chap dead?
+Notwithstanding the fear that seized him, he did not relax his efforts,
+and presently, to his great joy, the lids fluttered, then opened, and
+the eyes went up to his face. They were dazed, bewildered. Slowly a look
+of recognition came into them.</p>
+
+<p>"Per&mdash;Percival!" came in a feeble whisper from the lips; then the lids,
+as though exhausted by the effort they had made, closed again.</p>
+
+<p>Danger was not yet past, but the boy lived, and Paul, breathing more
+freely, looked round to see what had happened to the others. It had been
+a near thing with Baldry and Plunger. Baldry had supported Plunger for
+some time, but neither had been able to reach the raft or the bank;
+while those on the raft were unable to move to their assistance. The
+strength of both was, therefore, giving out rapidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Let go of me, Baldry. Take care of yourself!" gasped Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"Shan't Freddy," answered Baldry feebly. "Sit tight!"</p>
+
+<p>Even in that terrible moment, with death looming grimly before him,
+Plunger smiled faintly. Baldry's advice seemed so ludicrous. Sit tight!
+What was he to sit tight on? They grew fainter every moment.</p>
+
+<p>"God, help us!" was the prayer that came from the heart of Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>Human help seemed to have failed them. So, at least, it seemed; but
+Paul, looking up from Hibbert at this moment, his heart gladdened at
+hearing his name, saw the dilemma in which they were placed&mdash;the peril
+in which they stood. Unless assistance soon reached them, they must go
+under.</p>
+
+<p>What was to be done? He could not see them drown before his eyes.
+Yet&mdash;yet, if he were to leave Hibbert, what would happen to him? It was
+true that he had opened his eyes and spoken, but perhaps that was only
+the last feeble flicker of the candle. Paul's hand went quickly to the
+boy's heart. It was still beating, though feebly. Again his eyes went to
+where Baldry and Plunger were making a desperate fight for life. Three
+lives were trembling in the balance.</p>
+
+<p>The prayer that had come from Baldry's lips a moment since came from
+Paul's.</p>
+
+<p>"God, help me! What am I to do?"</p>
+
+<p>He gave another swift glance into Hibbert's face. It seemed to smile at
+him, as though in answer to his prayer. "Go," it seemed to say. The
+next instant Paul plunged into the river, swimming towards the two boys,
+with the same swift stroke which had enabled him to reach Hibbert's
+side.</p>
+
+<p>As he cut through the water, his right hand struck against something.
+His fingers closed round it. It was the punting-pole that Plunger had
+lost, and which had been partly responsible for the accident. God had
+answered his prayer. He had helped him. It would have been impossible
+for him to have saved the two fast-drowning boys by his own unaided
+efforts. Now it was possible.</p>
+
+<p>"Catch hold!" he cried, as he directed one end of the pole to Baldry and
+Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>They eagerly gripped it; then, grasping the other end, Paul swam to
+shore. It was a strange freight he was towing&mdash;two human lives. And his
+heart seemed beating like the valve of a steam-tug as he reached the
+bank and pulled his freight ashore.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a brick&mdash;that's what you are, Percival!" were the first words
+that Plunger gasped, as he struggled, with the water dripping from him,
+up the bank.</p>
+
+<p>Baldry's eyes had gone to the still figure lying on the grass.</p>
+
+<p>"It's&mdash;it's the Camel! What&mdash;what's wrong with him?" he asked, as he
+stood gazing at the still form. "Is&mdash;is he dead?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not&mdash;I think not," said Paul, as he raised the slight figure in
+his arms. "I must leave you fellows to look after yourselves."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, holding Hibbert close to him, he hastened along the road that
+led to the school. Once or twice he paused to make sure that Hibbert's
+heart was beating. Yes; it was still beating, though feebly: having
+reassured himself, he hurried on again with his burden.</p>
+
+<p>The road seemed longer to him than it had ever been before; but at
+length he drew near, and his eyes went up to the first thing that a
+Garside boy usually looked to&mdash;the old flag.</p>
+
+<p>He could scarcely believe his eyes. Were they mocking him, or was he
+under a delusion? The flag did not seem to be flying there.</p>
+
+<p>"My eyes are playing tricks with me," he thought as he hurried
+breathless into the grounds.</p>
+
+<p>A few steps more and he met Stanley. He stopped and regarded Paul with
+surprise. He advanced a step, as though with the intention of speaking
+to him, but quickly changing his mind, went on his way. Paul clenched
+his teeth hard and staggered on with his burden. Luckily it was only a
+light one.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching the schoolhouse door, he met Waterman coming from it.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival! What are you fagging with there?" For once Waterman was
+genuinely roused. "An accident? Why, it's young Hibbert. What's
+happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's had a ducking in the river. Run for Dr. Clack&mdash;as quickly as you
+can."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman needed no second bidding. His natural indolence of manner,
+under which was hidden much more energy than people gave him credit for,
+vanished on the instant. He darted off at the top of his speed. Paul did
+not relinquish his burden till, under the direction of the matron, he
+had placed it on a bed in the sick dormitory.</p>
+
+<p>"A doctor must be fetched," said the matron, as Hibbert's eyes remained
+closed, in spite of her efforts to bring him back to consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>"Waterman's gone for Dr. Clack."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right. The poor little fellow's in a bad way. Oh, you boys&mdash;you
+boys!" came in a sigh from the matron's lips. "Always in mischief. Who
+pushed him into the river?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody pushed him. He fell in, so far as I could see."</p>
+
+<p>Paul did not tell her that two more Gargoyles had fallen into the river
+at the same time, for fear of alarming her still more.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you stop him from playing about on the river? You're old
+enough to know better," said Mrs. Trounce wrathfully.</p>
+
+<p>Paul stood silent under this rebuke. He had not explained all the
+circumstances of the accident&mdash;so far, at least, as he knew them&mdash;for
+fear of implicating the other boys. He had caught a glimpse of the
+savage "get-up" of Baldry and his companions, and the black stains on
+Hibbert's face, which had only been partially washed away by the water.
+He guessed, therefore, that there was more in the accident than at first
+met the eye.</p>
+
+<p>"If he dies we shall have the police here a-makin' all sorts of
+inquiries," continued the angry matron. "And I shouldn't wonder if they
+took you off to the lock-up, and brought you up before a judge and jury.
+And serve you right, ses I. You elder boys want a lesson. Instead of
+stopping the little fellow from playing on the river, you encouraged
+him, I expect. I know the way you big boys have. You use the paws of the
+little ones to pull out the roast chestnuts. It's disgraceful, I call
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Thus the matron poured out the vials of her wrath on Paul's head, while
+she busied herself at the same time in doing all she could to restore
+the patient to consciousness. Her words fell unheeded on Paul's ears. He
+was watching the face of Hibbert, and wondering whether the eyes would
+ever open again, and look up to him as they had looked up to him on that
+day when he had put his hand timidly on his shoulder and whispered:</p>
+
+<p>"You look so wretched and miserable I could not help coming to you.
+You're not angry with me, are you?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE OLD FLAG</h3>
+
+
+<p>As the thought went through Paul's mind, the door opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered. To Paul's wonder the master fell on his knees beside the bed,
+and, taking Hibbert's hand in his, murmured:</p>
+
+<p>"Tim, Tim, what have they done to you? Speak, Tim."</p>
+
+<p>The cold nature of the master seemed to have melted as he looked at the
+unconscious boy. Paul had never heard him call Hibbert by his Christian
+name before. The ashen lips were moving tremulously. The blinking eyes
+were fixed tenderly on the boy's face, and&mdash;was Paul dreaming?&mdash;he
+thought he saw a tear roll down the master's cheek.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did I leave you to yourself? Speak, Tim, speak," came the pleading
+tones.</p>
+
+<p>For once Mr. Weevil's self-control had given way. He was strangely
+moved. Paul was too moved himself at the time to take much notice, but
+he recalled every incident in that strange scene after. Then, as no
+answer came to his appeal, the master seemed to wander in his talk, and
+babbled words in an unknown tongue.</p>
+
+<p>He was still kneeling by the bed, talking in this way, when Dr. Clack,
+the school doctor, entered. His face remained very grave as he examined
+his patient.</p>
+
+<p>"It's been a very near thing with him," he said, when he had finished
+his examination; "but with careful nursing he may pull round."</p>
+
+<p>Paul heard the news with a thankful heart, for he had begun to fear that
+the case was hopeless. Mr. Weevil had now quite recovered his
+self-possession, and, leaving the patient in the hands of the doctor and
+the matron, beckoned Paul to follow him to his room.</p>
+
+<p>On entering it he closed the door, and questioned Paul minutely as to
+the cause of the accident. Paul explained to him what he had seen, the
+more readily because the little he had seen threw no particular blame on
+any one.</p>
+
+<p>"And you don't know how it happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir; I haven't the least idea."</p>
+
+<p>"You weren't in any way concerned in it?" demanded Mr. Weevil, suddenly
+opening his half-closed eyes and fixing them on Paul.</p>
+
+<p>Paul felt indignant. He had made as little as possible of his share in
+rescuing Hibbert; and as a result the master seemed to have a lurking
+suspicion that he was in league in some way with the boys who had caused
+the accident.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, I was in no way concerned in it," he flashed back. "It was
+quite by chance that I was at the river-side this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the matter must be further inquired into. It is quite certain
+that there is something that needs explanation."</p>
+
+<p>"I know nothing about that, sir; but if you've no more questions to ask
+me, I'd like to change my things."</p>
+
+<p>Paul's clothes had nearly dried on him. He had taken no heed of himself
+in thinking of Hibbert; but now that Hibbert was in bed, and in the
+hands of those who could take care of him, he began to think a little of
+his own condition, which was not altogether so comfortable as might have
+been desired.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry. I really had forgotten that you were in damp clothes. Why
+didn't you mention it before? You must change them at once."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil seemed really sorry that he had not given a thought to Paul's
+condition before. Paul hastened off to change his damp cloth for dry
+ones. While he was thus engaged, Plunger and Baldry entered for the same
+purpose. Otherwise they seemed none the worse for the cold bath.
+Plunger, in fact had got on good terms with himself again, and was as
+perky as ever.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have punted across the river all right if it hadn't been for
+Hibbert," he explained. "The scream he gave threw me off my stroke. It
+was jolly good of you all the same to come to us, Percival. We shan't
+forget it in a hurry&mdash;shall we, Baldry?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," was Baldry's emphatic answer. "By the by, how is Hibbert going
+on?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was just going to ask the same thing. I would rather have gone under
+myself than that he should. Has the doctor been to him?"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger spoke with unusual earnestness.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Dr. Clack's been to him. He's with him now."</p>
+
+<p>"And what does he say?"</p>
+
+<p>"He says that it's been a near thing, but with careful nursing he may
+pull round."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger paused with one arm in the sleeve of the jacket he was putting
+on, and sat down on the side of the bed. He was beginning to realize how
+near the Crusoe expedition had been to a tragedy&mdash;nay, the danger was
+not yet over. Silence fell on the room for some moments. Each was busy
+with his own thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't yet heard how it all happened," Paul at length inquired.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger told him the origin of the "Crusoe expedition," and all that had
+happened up to the moment of the accident.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know anything about the savages that boarded us on the raft.
+Baldry can tell you that part," he concluded.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we found out all about the expedition, and didn't like being left
+out of it. We thought that we'd have a cut in on our own account. So
+Sedgefield, Bember, Viner, and myself got down to the plantation before
+Plunger, Moncrief minor, and Hibbert reached it on the raft. While they
+landed and got ready for their part, we got ready for ours. What was the
+use of Crusoe without the noble savages? So we got up as savages, and
+frightened the life out of Plunger and the other two by swooping down on
+'em just like Indians would, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't frighten me, I tell you," protested Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not; but Crusoe, when he first saw savages, never sprinted
+along half so quickly as you did, I'll warrant! Greased lightning wasn't
+in it with you, Plunger."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger did not answer, but diligently set to work getting his other arm
+into the sleeve of his coat.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, but what's become of the other fellows on the raft&mdash;Moncrief,
+Sedgefield, and the others?" inquired Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they were still on the raft, floating gaily along, when we left.
+Goodness knows when they would get ashore," says Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a bit unfortunate, you see, for none of the fellows now left on
+the raft understand anything about punting," put in Plunger. "It's
+rather a pity I couldn't have got back to them."</p>
+
+<p>"It's just that that makes me feel easy. There's a good chance of their
+pulling through, now you're not with them, Plunger," was Baldry's
+ungracious response. "Why, here they are!"</p>
+
+<p>As he was speaking, in fact, three of the four entered&mdash;Bember,
+Sedgefield, and Harry Moncrief. After they had spent some time on the
+raft, drifting aimlessly on the river, a boatman had towed them ashore.
+Fixing the raft in its place by the bridge, they had returned in all
+haste to the school, anxious to know what had happened to their
+companions. When they had learned all particulars, Sedgefield exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care what those Fifth Form fellows say or think, but will you
+take my hand, Percival?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul willingly gripped the hand extended to him. Bember and the others,
+with the exception of Harry, followed suit. Harry struggled with himself
+for a moment. He could not help remembering, in spite of his effort to
+forget it, that Paul was responsible for the thrashing that his cousin
+had received at the hands of a Beetle, and that he had seen him shaking
+hands with the same obnoxious creature. Yet what could have been nobler,
+Harry told himself, than the way in which, at the risk of his own life,
+Paul had gone to the rescue of Hibbert, and had returned a few minutes
+later to save Plunger and Baldry? He had witnessed it all from the raft,
+with his heart in his mouth. Yes, it was a noble deed. He had never seen
+a nobler. What was the defeat of Stanley&mdash;the wound of his
+pride&mdash;compared with it? Instinctively his hand went out to Paul as the
+other hands had done, when Viner entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you heard the news?" he questioned, greatly excited.</p>
+
+<p>"The news! What news?" demanded Sedgefield.</p>
+
+<p>"The school flag. It's gone!"</p>
+
+<p>"Gone!" they echoed, as with one voice.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's mind went back with a rush to when he had entered the grounds
+with Hibbert in his arms. His eyes had not deceived him, then. The flag
+had really gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" cried Sedgefield.</p>
+
+<p>"Not much nonsense about it. If you don't believe me, you'd better go
+and look for yourself."</p>
+
+<p>The intelligence was so remarkable, that Plunger and Harry raced into
+the grounds. A minute later they returned.</p>
+
+<p>"Viner's quite right. It's gone," they exclaimed in a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"But how&mdash;where&mdash;when?" questioned Sedgefield. "Who has taken it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No one knows. It must have happened while we were on the river, so we
+could know nothing about it. Somebody must have stolen up the turret
+stair and got on to the roof. That's the only possible way it could be
+done. The senior Forms are in a rare wax over it."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think so," burst out Plunger. "What fellow can rest easy now
+that our flag's been hauled down? I only wish that I had hold of the one
+who did it."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd give him a lesson in punting, wouldn't you, Freddy?" observed
+Baldry, with a wink at those around him.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger glared at Baldry. He would have brought his knuckles down on his
+head, only he remembered what Baldry had done for him.</p>
+
+<p>"Seriously," said Sedgefield, "it can't have walked. There's not a
+fellow in Garside who would have pulled down the old flag, even for a
+joke; I'm certain of that."</p>
+
+<p>"And I." "And I." "And I," came in a chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"A Beetle must have sneaked in. It must be the work of a Beetle."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I've been thinking," said Bember. "It's only one of those
+cads could have done a sneakish trick like that."</p>
+
+<p>"Supposing it is a Beetle, which of them could have done it? Which of
+them could have made his way into the school without being seen, and
+then got to the door in the turret?" asked Baldry.</p>
+
+<p>"Mellor knows all about the building. He could easily describe
+the way to any of the Beetles," said Viner. "That champion of
+theirs&mdash;Wyndham&mdash;has made us eat enough dirt already. He made our picked
+man turn tail"&mdash;every eye went to Paul as Viner spoke with
+bitterness&mdash;"and Moncrief eat dirt. Now we've lost the flag. Really,
+we're getting on. We can't sink much lower."</p>
+
+<p>The atmosphere in the dormitory was getting oppressive. Every one felt
+uncomfortable. That allusion to Paul was true enough. He had turned
+away, like a frightened cur, from Wyndham; but who could accuse him of
+being a coward after what had happened that day? It was altogether
+inexplicable.</p>
+
+<p>Baldry was the first to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"You know what has happened this afternoon, Viner. Percival saved my
+life, and you're not going to fling mud at him while I'm standing by."</p>
+
+<p>"And I say ditto to Baldry," blustered Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I deserve it," said Paul, for the first time breaking silence.
+"It's true&mdash;every word that Viner said. I did turn tail. It was the act
+of a coward. And Stanley Moncrief suffered through me, and through me
+all the school has eaten dirt. But if the school has suffered through
+me, through me it shall be lifted up again. If the Beetles have taken
+our flag, by God's help I will get it back again, and again it shall fly
+in its old place on the turret. If I fail&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But Baldry cut him short, and shouted:</p>
+
+<p>"Three cheers for Percival!"</p>
+
+<p>The cheers were given very heartily, though Viner took little part in
+the cheering; but ere the last cheer had died away, a messenger came
+from the sick-room. Hibbert was still in a very critical condition, but
+he had recovered consciousness, and was asking for Paul.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>HIBBERT ASKS STRANGE QUESTIONS</h3>
+
+
+<p>The message brought back the minds of the boys with painful abruptness
+to the struggle of a far different kind which was taking place in the
+sick-room. In the loss of the school flag they had forgotten, for the
+time being, the crisis through which Hibbert was passing. It was no time
+for cheering; it was a time of sadness&mdash;Paul, at least, felt so as he
+obeyed the message, and made his way to the sick-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival," came in a low, faint voice, as he entered.</p>
+
+<p>The face of the sick boy turned to him. Pale at all times, it now seemed
+bloodless, as white as the pillow upon which it rested. It seemed, too,
+to have shrunk, while the eyes had grown larger, and shone with a light
+which Paul had never seen in them before.</p>
+
+<p>"You were the first one he asked for when he came to his senses," said
+Mrs. Trounce, as Paul stepped softly to the bedside. "I think he's a bit
+better now; aren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Much better, thank you," said the boy, with a painful attempt to smile
+at her. Then the bright eyes went again to Paul's face and rested there.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad to hear that, Hibbert," said Paul, taking the thin hand in
+his. "You must make up your mind to get off that bed as soon as
+possible, mustn't he, Mrs. Trounce?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just what I tell him," said the matron, cheerfully, for she knew the
+value of cheerfulness on the spirits of a patient. "If he makes up his
+mind to it, he'll soon be about again."</p>
+
+<p>"It's astonishing what we can do when we set our teeth hard, and go for
+a thing," continued Paul, adopting her cheerful tone and manner.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what you did when you came to me and saved my life. Oh,
+Percival, it was terrible!"</p>
+
+<p>And the thin hand went to the eyes with a gesture of pain.</p>
+
+<p>"Terrible! Hooking you out of that river? That's what I call beastly
+ingratitude. I think it's one of the best things I ever did in my life."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," cried the boy quickly; "don't think me ungrateful. I couldn't
+bear that. You don't think me ungrateful?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. It's only my stupid way of putting things. All you've
+got to do now is to forget about the river, and everything connected
+with it. You're now on dry land&mdash;in a nice, warm, comfortable bed, where
+you needn't trouble about anything except getting well again."</p>
+
+<p>"Are the other fellows all right&mdash;Plunger and Moncrief, I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Right? Rather! Going stronger than ever, especially Plunger."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad of that. And&mdash;and the savages. Who were they?" asked Hibbert,
+with a shudder.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you guess?" smiled Paul. "Nobody very dreadful. Three or four of
+the fellows of your Form&mdash;Bember, Baldry, Sedgefield, Viner."</p>
+
+<p>"I might have guessed it; but then I'm not like other boys. I'm such a
+coward&mdash;coward. I've fought against it so hard, but I can't get over it.
+I've tried to be brave&mdash;as brave as you are&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush! Don't talk of bravery. You're forgetting the sand-pit. Don't put
+me on stilts, for I could never walk in them. We're just what God makes
+of us. There are plenty of thorns and thistles about, heaps of 'em; but
+not many sensitive plants. That's what you are Hibbert&mdash;a beautiful,
+sensitive plant."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you don't know what I am. If only I could tell you&mdash;if only I could
+tell you. You would hate me&mdash;hate me. Yes, Percival&mdash;hate me. You can
+call me a beautiful, sensitive plant, while all the time I'm a beastly
+hypocrite. Oh, why didn't you let me die&mdash;why didn't you let me go down
+in the river? Why did you save me?"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with a sudden outburst of energy, raising himself, in his
+feverish excitement on his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come! Master Percival will have to leave you, if you take on that
+way," said the matron.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I think I'd better go now and come again to-morrow," said Paul,
+alarmed at this sudden outburst, which he took to be a slight touch of
+delirium.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't leave me, Percival&mdash;don't leave me just yet!" pleaded the boy.
+"I&mdash;I was forgetting myself. I'll be quieter if you'll stay with me a
+little longer."</p>
+
+<p>The thin fingers slipped into Paul's hand again, and clung to it
+tightly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll stay with you a little longer, if you'll just do what I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes. What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just close your eyes and try to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert obeyed him implicitly. He closed his eyes, as though to sleep,
+but still held fast to Paul's hand. In a few moments the pressure
+relaxed, and he seemed to be really sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll watch over him for a bit, if you like," whispered Paul to the
+matron.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Trounce looked at her patient. He seemed tranquil enough now, and
+as she had other duties to attend to, she gladly availed herself of
+Paul's offer.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be back as soon as I can," she whispered as she went out.</p>
+
+<p>She hadn't been gone more than ten minutes before Hibbert's eyes opened
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"Still here, Percival? It's very kind of you." Then, looking round:
+"Where's matron?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gone out for a bit. I've promised to look after you. Do you want
+anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;except you. Matron's really gone?"&mdash;looking round again.</p>
+
+<p>"What a suspicious chap you're getting!" smiled Paul. "Do you think
+she's hiding somewhere?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad she's gone, Percival, because I wanted to speak to
+you&mdash;alone."</p>
+
+<p>"But you promised to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've kept my promise. I've had quite a long doze."</p>
+
+<p>"Very long&mdash;ten minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't sleep longer till I've said what I've got to say. Doesn't it
+say somewhere in the Bible that we ought to confess our sins?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul could now see clearly enough that there was something troubling
+Hibbert, and that it would only increase the trouble if he were to
+refuse to answer him. So he answered:</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it does. Let me see&mdash;you must know the words as well as I
+do&mdash;'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our
+sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, those are the words I was trying to think of. I remember them
+quite well now. The water from the river seems to have got into my
+brain, and things aren't quite so clear to me now as they used to be,
+you see."</p>
+
+<p>"That will come all right presently, and things will be quite as clear
+to you as ever they were. But you mustn't worry, or else they won't."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help it; but I shan't worry so much when what is on my mind is
+off it."</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I send for Mr. Weevil?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," answered the boy quickly; "it's you I want to speak to. Don't
+leave me."</p>
+
+<p>Paul did not move. He kept his place beside the bed, though he had no
+wish to hear any confession. He guessed what it was. Some boyish freak
+or escapade, magnified into undue proportion by the sensitive boy now
+that he was so weak.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't leave you, but if you've got anything to say, I'm not the
+fellow to say it to. There's One can do you a great deal more good than
+I can, Hibbert. Just confess to Him when you say your prayers to-night.
+He'll help you a lot more than I can."</p>
+
+<p>"Supposing I have done that, Percival. Supposing I did it when I closed
+my eyes a little while ago; and supposing even then a voice seemed
+whispering in my ear, 'If you want peace, if you want to meet your
+mother in heaven, act the hypocrite no longer. Speak to Percival.' What
+then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I should say use your own judgment. Do what seems best."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert closed his eyes for a moment, as though he were trying to decide
+within himself what was best. At length he opened them again.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember that afternoon when I came to you in the writing-room
+and told you Mr. Travers wished to speak to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite well. Nearly all the fellows had deserted me but you. I was
+wretched."</p>
+
+<p>"You looked it. You gave me a letter to post. Do you remember that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Paul shortly. He remembered it but too well. It was the
+letter he had written to Mr. Moncrief, to which that gentleman had not
+deigned to answer.</p>
+
+<p>"When I came back to you in the writing-room you were tracing names on
+the blotting-pad. I caught sight of one&mdash;Zuker. You noticed that I was
+surprised at seeing it, and asked me if I knew anybody of that name. I
+told you that I did. That I once knew a boy of that name when I was at
+school in Germany. And then you told me something I'm never likely to
+forget&mdash;never likely to forget to my dying hour. You may think it
+strange, but the words came suddenly to my ears when I fell off the raft
+into the river."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed! What was it I told you?"</p>
+
+<p>"You told me that it was through a man of the name of Zuker that your
+father lost his life."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's true enough. So it was&mdash;Israel Zuker. What about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"What about it!" Hibbert made a painful effort to laugh. "Why,
+Percival&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped abruptly, as the door suddenly opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered.</p>
+
+<p>"What, Percival! You here?" exclaimed the master. "Where is Mrs.
+Trounce?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hibbert wanted me to sit by him, and I'm taking her place for a short
+time. She'll be back presently, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you feeling better?" asked the master, as he turned from Paul to
+the patient.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, much better. It's done me good to have Percival here."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad to hear it."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil's hand went gently, lovingly over the boy's brow, and he
+watched him anxiously through his half-closed eyes. Paul recalled the
+master's grief when he first saw the boy after the accident, and other
+little traits of kindness&mdash;traits which had shown him that Mr. Weevil
+was not altogether the stern, harsh man he had one time thought him.
+None the less, he was sorry that he had entered the room at that moment.
+Hibbert had awakened his curiosity. What was it that was weighing on his
+mind? What had he to tell him about the man Zuker? He wished Mr. Weevil
+had kept from the room a bit longer.</p>
+
+<p>Paul waited, hoping that he would go out. But the master did not move
+from the position he had taken up at the bedside, and his hand continued
+to move caressingly over the boy's forehead. After a minute or two's
+silence he turned to Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"You've had your fair spell of watching, Percival. I'll take your place
+till Mrs. Trounce returns. Hibbert looks very flushed and feverish. I'm
+afraid he's been speaking too much."</p>
+
+<p>What could Paul say? He had no alternative but to obey. Hibbert's eyes
+followed him as he went out.</p>
+
+<p>"What was it he had to tell me, I wonder?" Paul asked himself, as he
+passed along the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long time before he slept that night. His mind kept travelling
+back over the many events of a singularly eventful day. And when he at
+last dozed off to sleep, he could hear the voice of Hibbert sounding a
+long way off.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, why didn't you let me die? Why didn't you let me go down in the
+river? Why did you save me? Don't leave me, Percival&mdash;don't leave me.
+I'll be quieter if you stay with me a little longer."</p>
+
+<p>Then the voice died away and all was blank.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2>
+
+<h3>AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR ARRIVES AT GARSIDE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Two things, outside the ordinary school routine, occupied attention on
+the morrow. The first was the adventures which had so nearly cost
+Hibbert his life; the second the loss of the school flag. The report as
+to the condition of Hibbert was neither good nor bad. There was no
+improvement, but neither had he gone back. His condition, in fact, was
+just what it had been the night before.</p>
+
+<p>The loss of the flag caused the greatest excitement. The masters held a
+meeting about it, but nothing was done. The Sixth Form held a meeting
+about it, but nothing was done&mdash;for the simple reason that nothing could
+be done. So far there was not the slightest clue as to what had become
+of it. It had disappeared just as mysteriously as the pages torn from
+the Black Book.</p>
+
+<p>But in one thing there was a manifest change. A manifest improvement
+took place in the school's attitude towards Paul. Whereas previously
+nearly all the school was opposed to him, the greater proportion of the
+Garsiders now came over to his side with a swing; but his own Form, with
+the exception of Waterman, still held aloof. He received a communication
+from Stanley, however, through his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"Stanley's sorry that he did not lend you a helping hand when he met you
+with Hibbert yesterday," said Harry. "He did not dream that anything
+serious had happened."</p>
+
+<p>Paul had felt it even more than he dared admit to himself that Stanley
+had not come forward on the previous day and given him a helping hand
+when he was struggling along with Hibbert.</p>
+
+<p>"How could he dream that anything serious had happened unless he
+inquired?" he asked, with some bitterness. "Did he really send that
+message?"</p>
+
+<p>"Really."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very kind of him. When you next see him say how obliged I am. It's
+nice to find people so thoughtful, though it may be a little late in the
+day."</p>
+
+<p>Harry felt uncomfortable. He could detect the accent of bitterness
+underlying the words.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you what, Percival, I wish you and Stan were friends again, like
+you used to be. It's all through that beastly Beetle, Wyndham. I wish
+some one had stepped on him and squashed him first."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't. I can admire a plucky fellow when I see one, even though he
+happens to be a Beetle."</p>
+
+<p>Harry opened his eyes, and stared at Paul. Paul, annoyed at the
+second-hand message he had received from Stanley, and seeing the
+astonished expression on Harry's face, could not help adding: "Yes, I
+can admire pluck wherever I see it. I'm not quite sure whether Wyndham
+isn't worth half a dozen fellows here."</p>
+
+<p>Harry stayed to hear no more. A Beetle worth half a dozen Gargoyles! It
+seemed rank treason to listen to it. Paul felt a savage thrill of
+delight in praising Wyndham and seeing the consternation it had caused
+in Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"He will tell Stanley every word I have said. Getting his cousin to
+bring his mean, petty message. Didn't dream that anything so serious had
+happened, indeed! Pah!"</p>
+
+<p>Alas! alas! The breach between the two former friends, instead of
+closing, was widening.</p>
+
+<p>All the boys who had taken part in the raft incident were severely
+lectured by Mr. Weevil, and were debarred from the usual half-holidays
+during the next fortnight, as well as receiving a heavy number of lines
+to keep them busily occupied during the same period. Then the master
+went on to say:</p>
+
+<p>"Percival has done a brave act. He went to the assistance of Hibbert in
+a moment of extreme peril. He placed his life in jeopardy to save him.
+God grant that his act of bravery may not have been in vain!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil paused for an instant, with closed eyes, as though he were
+praying; then, when he opened them again, it seemed as though the
+incident and all connected with it had passed from his mind, as, in a
+few cold words, he turned to the duties of the day.</p>
+
+<p>Paul was more than gratified with this brief allusion to what he had
+done, but he could not help noticing that no reference was made by Mr.
+Weevil to the part he had played in the rescue of Baldry and Plunger.
+His whole thought seemed centred on Hibbert.</p>
+
+<p>"Strange, his liking for the little chap," thought Paul.</p>
+
+<p>It was as though the master were trying to make up to the frail,
+deformed boy for the neglect of others. And whenever Paul now thought of
+him, it was not as he remembered him on that night when he had peeped
+through the dormitory window, and had seen him talking to Israel Zuker,
+but as he had seen him kneeling by Hibbert's bed and babbling to him
+tenderly in an unknown tongue.</p>
+
+<p>The next number of the <i>Gargoyle Record</i> made various indirect
+references to the "Crusoe incident" in the editor's usual vein.</p>
+
+<p>"Missing Link has turned up in the neighbourhood of the river&mdash;latest
+mania&mdash;punting and desert islands.... Our poet is much obliged for the
+response given to his appeal in our last issue. He was stuck, it will be
+remembered, for a rhyme to 'hunger,' and the rhyme was to be a name of
+some kind&mdash;bird, beast, or fish. Curious to say, all our correspondents
+have hit upon the same rhyme and name.</p>
+
+<p>"Honour of the Fifth looking up a bit. Tarnished near sand-pit on
+Cranstead Common, it has just had a washing in the river. Better for its
+bath, though not yet up to its former lustre.</p>
+
+<p>"The Fresher of the Third who was prepared to give hints on the correct
+style in trousers, spats, and white waistcoats has thought better of it.
+Gave it up in order to get some experience of desert islands and punting
+in company with the aforesaid Missing Link. Experience disastrous and
+not likely to be repeated. Has since taken to stamp-collecting and
+ping-pong."</p>
+
+<p>Then, among the usual notices of "Lost, stolen, or strayed," appeared
+the following:</p>
+
+<p>"Pages from the Black Book still missing. Greatest loss of all&mdash;the old
+flag of the school. It waves over the school no longer. We have doffed
+the cap and bells, and gone into sackcloth and ashes. Our heart is
+heavy. We can smile no longer. We can only whistle one tune&mdash;the Dead
+March. Our heart will continue heavy. Our noble frontispiece will never
+beam again. Our lips will continue to warble the same melancholy tune
+until the old flag once more waves over Garside!"</p>
+
+<p>Stripped of its note of bombast, this last paragraph echoed pretty
+accurately the feeling of the Garsiders at the loss of their flag. Their
+pride had been more sorely wounded even than it had been by the affair
+at the sand-pit. They had been flouted and dishonoured, and, though no
+proof was forthcoming, they felt sure that this insult had been placed
+upon them by their rivals&mdash;at St. Bede's.</p>
+
+<p>Paul, meantime, had seen nothing of Hibbert since the day when his
+confession had been interrupted by Mr. Weevil. Frequently he recalled
+that strange scene&mdash;the boy's eerie-looking, pain-drawn face, the sad
+eyes fixed on his, the earnest voice, with its suppressed note of
+fear&mdash;as he began to unfold to him the secret that weighed upon his
+heart and conscience. It seemed so real, yet so unreal. The face looking
+up into his seemed real enough. It was the words he could not make sure
+of. Hibbert must have been wandering.</p>
+
+<p>At any rate, he had not sent for him since the afternoon he had spoken
+such strange words, and that was nearly a week since.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, he was wandering, poor little chap, and has forgotten all
+about it by this time. I shall have a good laugh with him about it when
+he gets on his legs again," he told himself.</p>
+
+<p>It was the sixth day after the accident on the river that Paul was
+informed by Bax that a visitor wished to see him in the visitors' room.
+A visitor! Who could it be? Paul had very few visitors to see him.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, it's Mr. Moncrief; come at last in answer to my letter!" he
+thought, as he made his way to the room.</p>
+
+<p>He was doomed to disappointment, however, for he found, on entering the
+room, that the visitor was a perfect stranger to him&mdash;a slim,
+wiry-figured gentleman, with a frock-coat buttoned closely over his
+chest, reddish-brown full beard, and glasses, through which a sharp pair
+of eyes at once went to Paul. Mr. Weevil was standing beside the visitor
+on the hearthrug.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the lad I spoke of, Mr. Hibbert&mdash;Paul Percival."</p>
+
+<p>The master briefly introduced them. Paul was at once interested. This
+gentleman with the tawny beard, and erect, alert, military bearing, was
+Hibbert's father.</p>
+
+<p>"I have only recently returned to England, and have but just heard of
+the accident that has befallen my son," said Mr. Hibbert. "You saved his
+life. I was anxious not to go before I had thanked you."</p>
+
+<p>He took Paul's hand in his, and pressed it hard. A boy less strong than
+Paul would have winced under that grip of steel.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad to know Hibbert's father."</p>
+
+<p>"And I'm glad to know Paul Percival. It isn't often one meets with a
+brave lad like you."</p>
+
+<p>Again he gripped Paul's hand, and seemed to be regarding him as keenly
+as ever through his glasses to see if he stood his grip without
+flinching.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you would find many who would do as I did&mdash;even here at
+Garside. It was my luck to be a good swimmer. And that luck&mdash;if I may
+call it luck&mdash;I owe to my father."</p>
+
+<p>"Your father taught you, you mean."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Paul, shaking his head sadly; "I wish he had. He died when I
+was very young&mdash;when I could scarcely more than walk; but he was in the
+Navy, and it was by his wish that I was taught swimming. The saddest
+part is that he was drowned&mdash;drowned in saving another man's life."</p>
+
+<p>"Really? That is sad. I hope that the man whom your father saved from a
+watery grave was as grateful to him as I am to you."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was silent. He was thinking that if Mr. Hibbert's gratitude were no
+greater than the gratitude of the spy whom his father had saved from
+drowning it would not count for much.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust this will not be our last meeting. When my son gets well again,
+I hope to see more of you. Perhaps we may see a few of the sights of
+London together, if your mother has no objection."</p>
+
+<p>Paul thanked him and went out. He was glad that he had met Hibbert's
+father, though he was not a bit like the man he had pictured. He had
+somehow pictured him with something of the deformity that marked
+Hibbert, with the same sad, pathetic eyes; but they were as unlike as
+could be, except the voice. Hibbert's voice had somehow struck a
+familiar note when he first heard it. So did the father's. But there the
+resemblance began and ended.</p>
+
+<p>That same evening Paul went to the sick-room as usual, and inquired
+after Hibbert. This time Mrs. Trounce beckoned him in.</p>
+
+<p>"He's always asking after you, and it's cruel to keep you out," she
+whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Who wants to keep me out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Weevil thinks it makes the lad feverish, but I asked the doctor
+expressly to-day, and he says it will do him good rather than harm to
+see any friend he asks for. Poor little dear, he hasn't many friends.
+His father didn't seem to care over much for him, and his visit was a
+short one. He asked after you directly his father was gone. I've been
+obliged to deny him all this time, but I can't deny him any longer. He's
+dozing now. Step softly to the bed. Won't he be pleased when he wakes up
+and sees you! I've never had a boy on my hands who is half so good and
+patient as he is&mdash;I fear he is too patient, poor dear."</p>
+
+<p>It was quite certain that during this time of trouble, Hibbert had found
+one more friend in Mrs. Trounce&mdash;the kind-hearted matron, who always
+tried to make the boys believe that she was a perfect virago with a
+heart of flint. Paul followed her on tiptoe to the bed and looked down
+on the sleeper. And as he looked, it seemed as though ice-cold fingers
+were clutching him by the heart-strings, so strangely still were the
+face and form of the little sleeper.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2>
+
+<h3>HIBBERT FINISHES HIS STORY</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Is he in pain?" whispered Paul, as he looked down upon the still
+figure, for Hibbert's face looked strangely old and worn for one so
+young, and it was as white as the pillow upon which it lay.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so, but I've noticed, Master Percival, that he always has
+that troubled look when he's sleeping, just as though he had something
+on his mind," answered Mrs. Trounce.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's mind went swiftly back to the last time he was in that room&mdash;to
+the confession Hibbert had begun and left unfinished. Was it that which
+was troubling him?</p>
+
+<p>"Does he sleep well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not always like he's sleeping now. Often and often I've heard him
+calling you in his sleep, as I told you just now. I'm good enough for
+shaking up his pillow, giving him medicine, and that sort of thing, but
+I've found out that boys are strange critters to deal with. They want a
+lot of knowing, Master Percival, but I know 'em, and what Master Hibbert
+wants sometimes is one of his own school-fellows to talk to. That's
+better than medicine. Mr. Weevil's very kind to the boy, but he don't
+understand him."</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't Mr. Weevil like my seeing Hibbert?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he hasn't exactly forbidden it, or I shouldn't have let you in;
+but he thinks you excited him when you were with him on the night of the
+accident. But, as I sez, Mr. Weevil don't understand boys when they're
+ill. When Mr. Colville was in charge it was different. He knew boys he
+did. I wish he was back again. Since he went away things have all gone
+wrong."</p>
+
+<p>Paul heartily echoed her wish. Garside was quite different from what it
+had been when Mr. Colville was there. He had hoped day by day that
+intelligence would come of his return; but the Head still remained in
+the south of France, too ill to attend to his duties at the school.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the eyes of Hibbert slowly opened. A glad cry came from his
+lips when they rested on Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival, is it really you? I thought they were never going to let me
+see you again. Thanks, Mrs. Trounce; it's very kind of you."</p>
+
+<p>A faint tinge of colour came to the pale cheek; the look of pain had
+gone from the face. The sight of Paul seemed to have put new life and
+vigour into him. The matron promptly noted the change, and was very
+pleased that she had taken upon herself the responsibility of admitting
+Paul into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"There, there; you mustn't get excited, or I shall be blamed for letting
+Master Percival in to see you, and he won't come again, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I won't," answered Paul promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not the least excited, only glad&mdash;glad&mdash;so glad!"</p>
+
+<p>He repeated the word three times, to make sure there might be no mistake
+about it, and his thin fingers closed round Paul's, as though he feared
+he might slip away.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope the other fellows haven't got into trouble through me?" he
+asked. "Mr. Weevil would never tell me anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; they've got off very lightly, so don't worry about that.
+Plunger is going about as cheeky as ever."</p>
+
+<p>A faint smile flickered over the boy's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Plunger's rare fun. He was really just as much terrified as I was when
+Baldry and the other fellows turned up as Indians on the 'desert
+island.' I can laugh at it now, though I didn't laugh much then."</p>
+
+<p>He lay placidly with his hand in Paul's, then turned pleadingly to the
+matron.</p>
+
+<p>"Let Percival stay with me a bit. It'll do me good, and I'm sure you
+want a little change."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Trounce could see that the presence of Paul had worked wonders, so
+she had no hesitation in leaving the two together, giving Paul strict
+injunctions before doing so that he was to ring the bell in case she
+was needed. Immediately she had gone from the room Hibbert turned
+eagerly to Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been waiting to go on with what I was telling you when you were
+last here, Percival. It has lain here&mdash;here!"&mdash;beating his breast. "It
+has kept me awake at night, and&mdash;and the time seemed so terribly long
+and dreary. I watched and waited for your coming, but though you came
+they would never let me see you. Mr. Weevil was the only one I could
+speak to, and I could not tell him what was on my mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not? He is very kind to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not&mdash;why not! When I've told you, you will understand."</p>
+
+<p>"You must not excite yourself. You must not talk. If you do I will ring
+the bell and bring back Mrs. Trounce."</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't be so cruel, Percival, when I've been waiting so long to
+see you and speak to you again. It's that kept me back, made me weary,
+and weak, and sick at heart. When I lay awake at night-time I kept
+saying to myself, 'If I should die without seeing Percival again,
+without telling him what is on my mind, God would never forgive me.'"</p>
+
+<p>"If all of us were as good as you, we should be a good deal better than
+we are, and God wouldn't have to forgive much," said Paul tenderly.
+"But, there, don't get excited, and I will listen."</p>
+
+<p>For Paul could now see clearly enough that Hibbert had really suffered a
+good deal of mental pain and torture through not being able to complete
+the confession he had begun to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks," came the eager answer. "It will not take long, for I haven't
+much more to say. Let me see, where did I leave off? Oh, I was speaking
+about the man who was a spy on your father on that day Mr. Weevil
+entered the room, wasn't I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;Israel Zuker."</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't forgotten the name," said Hibbert, with a painful smile. "I'm
+not likely to forget it&mdash;never, never, never! For&mdash;for it happens to be
+my name."</p>
+
+<p>"Hibbert!" cried Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"My name. Israel Zuker, the man who spied upon your father, and whose
+life he saved at the risk of his own, was my father."</p>
+
+<p>Paul staggered back, as though he had been smitten in the face. Hibbert
+the son of the German spy! Hibbert the son of Zuker! Impossible! He was
+wandering. The story he&mdash;Paul&mdash;had once told him about his own father,
+and the way he had lost him, had got on the boy's mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you shrink from me! I don't wonder at it!" cried Hibbert. "Didn't I
+tell you what a hypocrite I was&mdash;how wicked?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, Hibbert," answered Paul, taking again the hand he had let fall
+from him; "nothing you can say will ever make me shrink from you.
+But&mdash;but you have so surprised me. I cannot understand. Let me think for
+a moment&mdash;Israel Zuker your father. How can that be when your name is
+Hibbert?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is a false name. I told you once that I knew of a boy of that name
+in Germany. I was speaking of myself, for I spent three years of my life
+at a school in Heidelberg before I came here."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the man I saw this afternoon&mdash;the man who thanked me for saving
+the life of his son, was&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Israel Zuker, my father&mdash;the man whose life your father saved, as you,
+his son, have saved mine. Now can you understand what I have suffered,
+Percival, by having this terrible secret on my mind? When I heard your
+story that day you don't know what I felt&mdash;what a mean, contemptible
+cad. I felt that I was a spy on you, just as my father had been a spy on
+your father&mdash;a spy on you, who had been so good to me. Oh, it was
+terrible! And then you saved my life, just as your father had saved my
+father's years ago. And that was heaping coals of fire on my head. I
+couldn't endure it."</p>
+
+<p>He covered his face with his hands. He was choking back the sobs that
+seemed of a sudden to convulse his frame.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall really have to ring the bell and send for Mrs. Trounce," said
+Paul firmly.</p>
+
+<p>The threat had its desired effect. Hibbert uncovered his face; the sobs
+died away in his throat. Then Paul put an arm round him, as he might
+have done round a brother, and said, in a softer key:</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Hibbert&mdash;what your father may have done is no fault of
+yours. God only judges us by what we do ourselves; and that's all I want
+to judge you by. You've looked upon me as your friend; I want you to
+look upon me as your friend still. Haven't I said that nothing you can
+say will make me shrink from you?"</p>
+
+<p>"How good, how noble you are, Percival!"</p>
+
+<p>"Humbug! But listen to me&mdash;we're getting a little off the track. The
+gentleman I was introduced to in the visitors' room this afternoon was
+your father, Israel Zuker, you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Wearing a false beard, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. But how did you know that? Have you met him before?" asked the boy
+wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>Paul now understood what it was in the voice of the visitor that had
+seemed familiar to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I met somebody of that name during last vacation, so I suppose it must
+have been the same," he answered, with pretended indifference; "but he
+wasn't wearing a beard. It's a good disguise. What's he afraid of?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he's obliged to. I'm telling you this as a secret, and I know I
+can trust you not to repeat it. My father's an agent of one of the
+foreign Governments, and he's obliged to put on a disguise sometimes to
+get information."</p>
+
+<p>"But what information does he want to get that makes him wear
+disguises?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never could quite make out, but I know it's to do with secret
+service. He once told me that every Government has secret service.
+That's all I ever knew."</p>
+
+<p>He seemed to have an uneasy suspicion that his father's profession was
+not a very honourable one, for his head sunk to his breast.</p>
+
+<p>"Is your father a friend of the master's&mdash;Mr. Weevil, I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, yes&mdash;more than a friend; but it's another secret I don't want to
+get about the school. Mr. Weevil would be very angry if it did, so you
+must promise me not to repeat it."</p>
+
+<p>And Paul, scarcely knowing all his promise meant, promised him. Then the
+boy leant very close to him and whispered: "Mr. Weevil's my uncle."</p>
+
+<p>This information was almost as startling and unexpected as the
+information that had preceded it. As it fell from Hibbert's lips, Paul
+almost feared that the door would open and Mr. Weevil would walk in,
+just as he had walked in before.</p>
+
+<p>"Your uncle!" he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's this way, you see. My mother was English. She was the only
+sister of Mr. Weevil. I know he was very fond of her, for I've heard
+mother say that he was a good brother, and that she was the only one for
+whom he had a greater love than he had for science. My father first met
+her when he used to give lessons in German and French&mdash;he knows three or
+four languages&mdash;at the school where Mr. Weevil was master before he came
+here. I think my father was then what they call a refugee. My mother
+died three years ago; then I went to Heidelberg again, and last of all I
+came here. You remember the day&mdash;at the opening of the term."</p>
+
+<p>Remember the day! Paul was never likely to forget it. He remembered
+every incident in connection with it&mdash;Hibbert coming to him in the
+grounds, the insult put upon him by Newall, and the other incidents that
+followed.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember," he said gravely.</p>
+
+<p>The door opened as he spoke, and Mrs. Trounce entered.</p>
+
+<p>"What, sitting up!" she cried, for Hibbert was still sitting, with the
+arm of Paul gently supporting him.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I feel so much stronger and better," he answered brightly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad to hear it, but I think you'd better lie down now. If Mr.
+Weevil came in now he would have a fit."</p>
+
+<p>Paul thought it highly probable such a catastrophe would happen if the
+master had any suspicion of what Hibbert had told him. So he gently laid
+the patient down again.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll come again, Percival?" he pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>And Paul promised.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2>
+
+<h3>A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE</h3>
+
+
+<p>The revelation that Paul had heard in the sick-room overwhelmed him. It
+was not till he was in the open air that he realized what it all meant.
+The foreign spy, for whom his father had sacrificed his life&mdash;the man
+who, in turn, had tried to steal from him the packet which had been
+entrusted to him by Mr. Moncrief&mdash;Hibbert's father! Was he standing on
+his head or his heels?</p>
+
+<p>Again he could feel the night wind on his face as he galloped along the
+road to Redmead; again he saw himself confronted by Zuker and his
+confederate; again he felt himself rising in the saddle and bringing
+down his whip on the man's face; again he felt the thrill of joy that
+leapt through his veins as he escaped from the clutches of his pursuers,
+and bounded once more along the road; and then&mdash;then that feeling of
+despair when Falcon suddenly sank to the ground, and he found that the
+noble horse was dying. This man, the man for whom his father had died,
+the man who had so relentlessly pursued him on the road to Redmead, the
+man who had caused the death of Falcon&mdash;this man of all men Hibbert's
+father, the father of the boy whom he had watched over and protected
+ever since he came to Garside, the father of the boy he had loved as a
+brother, and whom he had risked his own life to save, even as his father
+had risked his life to save the life of Zuker so long ago!</p>
+
+<p>It was indeed staggering. No wonder he hastened into the fresh air.
+Spiders seemed spinning webs about his brain. He could neither see nor
+think clearly.</p>
+
+<p>"Where am I standing?" he asked himself, and simple as the question was,
+it was not so simple to answer, for the world seemed suddenly
+topsy-turvy.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually the night air swept away the cobwebs, and he began to see
+things in a clearer light. This man Zuker was a spy still; nothing had
+changed since the day he had been found in his father's cabin, except
+perhaps that he had grown more daring. A spy! What did that mean? It
+meant that he was a menace to honest people, a danger to England, a
+danger to the peace and weal of the country which had given Paul
+birth&mdash;the country for which so many of his relatives had given their
+lives, the country which he loved. There could be no quarter for such a
+man. The longer he was at large the greater the danger.</p>
+
+<p>"He's in my power completely. A word from me will send him to prison,"
+Paul said to himself. "To prison he shall go this very night."</p>
+
+<p>Full of this determination, Paul turned to the gate. It was a couple of
+miles to the police-station, but what of that? He would soon cover the
+distance, and be back again at Garside. So he started on his journey
+with a run. He had not gone far, however, before a still, small voice
+began to whisper plaintively in his ear. It was the voice of
+Hibbert&mdash;the pleading, pathetic voice that had become so dear to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul, Paul! Are you forgetting the promise you made to me so soon? Was
+it for this I told you my secret? Reveal my story to the police, and you
+will kill me&mdash;kill me, as surely as though you were to thrust a knife in
+my breast."</p>
+
+<p>That was what the voice seemed saying to him. Paul pulled himself up
+with a jerk. What was he about to do? Betray Hibbert, the poor boy who
+had entrusted him with his secret! Betray Hibbert, who had clung to him
+and loved him through good report and evil, who had never shrunk from
+him when one by one the boys at Garside had shrunk from him as from a
+leper! God help him! What was he about to do?</p>
+
+<p>He was about to turn back when that other voice whispered to him: "Your
+country first and foremost. You have a higher duty than the duty you
+owe to Hibbert&mdash;the duty to your country. Besides, this boy's father
+betrayed your father. Why should you shrink from betraying him? Eye for
+eye, tooth for tooth. Pay back the debt that has been owing so long."</p>
+
+<p>Paul hastened on again, but again he paused as another voice&mdash;a voice
+that was full of wondrous and sublime melody&mdash;sounded in his ear:
+"Vengeance is mine, I will repay."</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him as he stood there in the moonlight, the stillness so
+great and solemn that he could hear his heart throb, that God had
+spoken. The danger to his country was not so great that it called upon
+him to give up the secret which had been entrusted in confidence to his
+keeping.</p>
+
+<p>He could not be true to himself or his country by being false to
+Hibbert!</p>
+
+<p>He would wait. Hibbert would get better. If the danger became real, he
+would lay bare his breast to Hibbert as Hibbert had laid bare his breast
+to him. He would tell him, fairly and honestly, why he could no longer
+keep his secret; then Hibbert would be able to warn his father, and he
+would be able to flee from the country he had sought to betray.</p>
+
+<p>Paul felt easier when he had come to this decision. It seemed to him
+that he had divided his secret with God, and that he was now acting as
+He would have counselled him.</p>
+
+<p>And surely His hand had been in it from the first&mdash;from the hour when
+he, Paul, had been shielded from his pursuers in his ride to Redmead to
+the hour which had brought the son of his pursuer to a sick bed, and
+induced him to pour his strange confession in his ear. Nay, could not
+the hand of God be seen in it still farther back, from the very hour
+when, at the risk of his own life, Paul's father had sacrificed his own
+life for the life of his enemy? Even at that time the hand of Providence
+must have been at work weaving the strange events which were still
+unfolding themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Paul was on the point of turning back as these thoughts flitted through
+his mind when the sound of a footstep caused him to draw back hastily
+into the shadow of the hedge. Scarcely had he done so than a tall, lean
+figure, with head thrust forward, passed quickly by. It was Mr. Weevil.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he off to, I wonder?" thought Paul.</p>
+
+<p>The master had been so concentrated in his thoughts that he had no
+suspicion as to who was in hiding by the roadside. Paul's memory at once
+went back to the last part of Hibbert's story&mdash;the part which he had
+almost lost sight of in the overwhelming interest of the first part. Mr.
+Weevil was Hibbert's uncle&mdash;Zuker's brother-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>Were they in league together? Paul's glance followed Mr. Weevil along
+the road. An overmastering desire seized him, a desire that he could not
+resist. Instinctively, as one in a dream, he followed in the footsteps
+of the master. Presently they reached Cranstead Common. Instead of
+turning in the direction of the sand-pits, the battle-ground of the
+Bedes and the Garsiders, Mr. Weevil turned to the left&mdash;to that part of
+it which was more thickly wooded&mdash;where there were trees and
+furze-bushes and bramble in wild profusion.</p>
+
+<p>"Where on earth can he be going?" Paul asked himself wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>Well might he ask, for it was scarcely possible to imagine a wilder or
+more solitary spot. It led to no habitation, none at least that Paul was
+aware of, and he was pretty familiar with the common.</p>
+
+<p>"He can't be on a visit to any one, unless it be the pixies, or
+creatures of that sort," thought Paul. "P'raps he's thinking out some
+scientific problem, and finds this wild part the best place to do it
+in."</p>
+
+<p>He paused for an instant. What was the use of going farther? He was on a
+wildgoose chase, but still the overmastering impulse which had led him
+to follow Mr. Weevil held him in its grip and would not let him turn
+back. So he went on in close pursuit of the shadowy figure in front of
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, he'll be getting to the river presently. Perhaps that is what he
+is making for?" thought Paul as the master plunged deeper into the
+thicket.</p>
+
+<p>The river skirted the far side of the common, and it was precisely in
+that direction Mr. Weevil was travelling. He had never once looked to
+the right or left, so absorbed had he been in his thoughts, but now he
+suddenly paused and looked back.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had just time to hide himself in the friendly shelter of a tree. He
+stood there for an instant, then peeped out from his hiding-place. He
+caught one glimpse of Mr. Weevil, and then, to his amazement, he
+disappeared from view as completely as though the earth had opened and
+swallowed him up.</p>
+
+<p>Paul rubbed his eyes. What was the meaning of it! Where had the master
+disappeared to? Had he been following some phantom, or had Mr. Weevil
+really sunk through the ground? Paul advanced to the spot. There was
+apparently nothing there but bushes. Again and again he pondered on the
+strange disappearance of the master and was unable to account for it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if that isn't one of the strangest things I've ever seen," said
+he to himself. "Mr. Weevil was there a minute since, as large as life
+and twice as natural. Now he's gone."</p>
+
+<p>A feeling of awe stole over Paul. Mr. Weevil had always seemed a strange
+being, a man quite by himself, and different from ordinary beings. Had
+his dealings with science taught him some dark secret by which he could
+make himself invisible? But Paul quickly dismissed this wild idea from
+his mind. The days of miracles were past. Whatever Mr. Weevil's
+knowledge of science, it did not lend itself to feats of magic worthy of
+the genii in the enchanted realms of <i>The Arabian Nights</i>.</p>
+
+<p>None the less, where was he? What had become of him? Paul examined the
+bushes as closely as the darkness would permit, but could find no trace
+of the master. He stood still and listened. Save for a light breeze that
+was moving gently among the trees, there was no sound. It was as quiet
+as the grave.</p>
+
+<p>"My word! That's one of the greatest mysteries I've ever struck,"
+thought Paul. He withdrew a pace or two, and took up his position
+beneath a decayed elm. Possibly Mr. Weevil might make his reappearance
+in the same mysterious way in which he had disappeared. He waited a few
+minutes, but his patience was not rewarded. Nothing happened.</p>
+
+<p>Paul began to fear that he might be locked out unless he hastened back,
+so he reluctantly retraced his footsteps, determined to visit the spot
+at the earliest opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>He got back to Garside without mishap or incident, but when he lay down
+to rest that night it was not to sleep. He could not help wondering what
+had become of Mr. Weevil, and whether he had spent a night on Cranstead
+Common. He was still thinking when the school clock chimed the hour of
+midnight. About five minutes later he heard a quiet footstep in the
+corridor.</p>
+
+<p>"That's Mr. Weevil," he said to himself. "I am quite sure. I could swear
+to his footsteps anywhere."</p>
+
+<p>He listened till they disappeared in the corridor, then he turned on his
+pillow, and tried to sleep. But he did not succeed for a long time. The
+events of that night had banished sleep.</p>
+
+<p>The next day Mr. Weevil was at his post as usual, and closely as Paul
+watched him he could see nothing unusual in his demeanour. He was as
+grave as ever&mdash;the eyes opened and closed in the same manner, most
+wakeful when they seemed most sleepful; and he was as prompt and
+diligent as ever in the discharge of his duties in the school.</p>
+
+<p>"Was it all a dream?" Paul asked himself, as his mind went back to what
+had happened on the previous night.</p>
+
+<p>As that afternoon was a half-holiday, he had some idea of paying a
+second visit to the spot, and continuing his examination of it. But he
+remembered that there was a still more important duty before him. He had
+pledged himself in the presence of Sedgefield and his companions that he
+would get back the school flag, and that once again they would see it
+flying from its old place on the turret.</p>
+
+<p>So far, he had done nothing to redeem his pledge. Those Third Form
+fellows who had cheered him so lustily would think there was no meaning
+in his words, that his boast was an empty one. The time had come for him
+to do something to make good his promise.</p>
+
+<p>He would begin to carry out his plan that very afternoon.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2>
+
+<h3>HOW THE OLD FLAG WAS TAKEN FROM GARSIDE</h3>
+
+
+<p>At this, the commencement of another chapter, we may as well take the
+opportunity of explaining to the reader the secret which had caused so
+much excitement at Garside, namely, what had become of the school
+flag&mdash;who had had the audacity to capture it.</p>
+
+<p>It will be remembered that one of the Bedes who always took an active
+part in opposition to the Garsiders was Mellor. The fact that he had
+been at one time a Garsider made him keener to "score off" his old
+companions, and he was ever to the fore in any enterprise for that
+purpose. But the great idea which possessed his mind, to the exclusion
+of most others, was the capture of the Garside flag. He knew that
+everybody in the school was proud of it. He himself had been proud of it
+when he was at Garside. The school flag at Bede's had no such history.
+It was just an ordinary flag, with a white shield in front, the initials
+of the school, and the school motto, precisely after the fashion of the
+school cap.</p>
+
+<p>So it came about that ever since the day Mellor had been set upon by his
+old companions, and made to crawl on all fours as "a Beetle," the idea
+had come to him that he would like to inflict upon Garside the greatest
+blow that had yet been inflicted upon it by gaining possession of the
+old flag. He thought of it by day, and he thought of it by night; but
+day followed day, and night followed night, and there seemed little
+chance of carrying out his purpose.</p>
+
+<p>There was only one boy at St. Bede's to whom he confided his secret, and
+that was his dormitory companion and chum&mdash;Edward Crick. Crick was
+about the same age as Mellor, with the same love of sport, the same
+wiliness, and the same indifference to consequences when once an idea
+had taken possession of him. And that's just what happened. When Mellor
+confided to him his secret, the idea possessed him, and he was just as
+keen on carrying it out as Mellor. If between them they could only get
+possession of the Garside flag, it would be one of the greatest
+achievements in the history of the school.</p>
+
+<p>They knew well enough that it was impossible to obtain possession of the
+flag by open assault. There was only one way&mdash;by taking the enemy
+unawares&mdash;by stealing a march upon them when it was least expected.</p>
+
+<p>Now, it was clear enough that in order to accomplish this purpose one of
+them would have to steal into the school at Garside and get to the west
+turret unobserved. Audacious as the scheme was, both were anxious for
+the honour; but after discussing the point for some time, Mellor gave
+way to Crick. Mellor was well known at Garside. He would be at once
+stopped were he found entering the school, and questioned as to what he
+had come for. Crick was unknown to the porter, and little known to most
+of the boys. The main thing was to provide him with one of the Garside
+caps. It so happened that Mellor had retained his old cap. There were at
+least twenty other boys of about the same size and age as Crick in the
+school. With the school cap on his head it would be easy enough for him
+to slip into the grounds during one of the half-holidays when most of
+the boys would be on the playing-fields. If any one did notice him, he
+might pass muster as a new boy.</p>
+
+<p>For the rest, Mellor was acquainted with every detail of the school
+building, and gave Crick precise information as to the best and surest
+methods to reach the west turret; so that Crick, as the result of this
+information, knew almost as much about the building as Mellor.</p>
+
+<p>Everything having been thus clearly planned, it only remained to put the
+plan into execution. To this end Garside had been carefully reconnoitred
+by the two boys at every opportunity that offered&mdash;that was to say, on
+every holiday. The opportunity they sought at length came&mdash;on that
+afternoon when Plunger and his companions were so busily engaged in
+playing the part of Crusoe. On cautiously approaching the school, the
+two confederates found that it was almost deserted. Crick thereupon
+boldly entered the grounds, with the Garside cap on his head and the
+collar of his sweater up, just for all the world as though he belonged
+to the school.</p>
+
+<p>A door at the rear of the building led through a narrow passage to the
+stairs leading to the turret. Crick was not long in finding the door,
+just as it had been described by Mellor.</p>
+
+<p>Entering it, he quickly mounted to the turret, and reached the trap-door
+leading to the roof. It had not been raised for some time, and Crick did
+not find it easy to open; but putting his head to it, and forcing it
+upward with the full strength of his body, it at length opened amid a
+shower of dust, and the next minute Crick was through it and on the
+roof.</p>
+
+<p>His heart beat loudly as he saw only a few yards from him the old flag
+flying from its staff. He did not lose his head, however. He knew well
+enough that, though he had succeeded in reaching the turret, his
+presence there might be detected at any moment. Any one passing along
+the grounds might chance to glance up.</p>
+
+<p>So, lying flat on the roof, he took a careful survey of the scene below.
+An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips; he could not help it. He
+felt like Cortez, the famous discoverer, when, with an eagle eye, he
+gazed for the first time on the Pacific from a peak in Darien. The
+Gargoyles in the playing-fields looked like so many pigmies darting
+between the goal-posts. Beyond them stretched the roadway leading to the
+common; to the left he could plainly see the glint of the sun on the
+river. He little dreamt what was happening there, even as he gazed.</p>
+
+<p>Turning in another direction, there was an almost uninterrupted expanse
+of country till the distance was broken by the spire of St. Bede's
+rising from a background of hills. He never imagined that it would be
+possible to see St. Bede's from Garside. He had thought the distance too
+great, but now the two schools, seen from that vantage ground, seemed
+ridiculously near.</p>
+
+<p>Crick remained for some time lost in the view; then a clock chiming the
+quarter recalled him to his purpose. He glanced again in the direction
+of the playing-fields. There was nothing to fear in that direction. The
+Gargoyles were too much occupied in their game to pay any attention to
+the roof. Crick drew himself nearer to the flagstaff.</p>
+
+<p>Slightly raising himself from his position on the roof, he lifted it
+from its socket, and, possessed of the prize for which he had risked so
+much, drew it quickly beneath the trap-door.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus4" id="illus4"></a>
+<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"<span class="smcap">Slightly raising himself from his position on the roof,
+Crick lifted the flagstaff from its socket, and drew it quickly beneath
+the trap-door.</span>"</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Got it!" he cried, with a thrill of joy, as he glanced at the old,
+discoloured flag which had seen so much service&mdash;"got it!"</p>
+
+<p>Quickly rolling it round the staff, he next drew from under his sweater
+a cover of American cloth, which he wound in turn round the flag and
+staff, till nothing could be seen of them. No one could have told what
+the cloth concealed. It looked like a bundle of fishing-rods.</p>
+
+<p>Descending the stairs as cautiously as he had ascended them, he once
+more reached the door leading from the turret stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Now for it," he thought, bracing himself up.</p>
+
+<p>He had only to get outside the grounds and reach the place where Mellor
+was awaiting him. He crept round the side wall, and was just about to
+hasten through that part of the grounds which lay between him and the
+road, when he drew back suddenly. A boy was staggering along in the
+direction of the schoolhouse with a burden of some sort in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"My stars! Another moment and he would have seen me!" thought Crick,
+with a breath of relief. "What's he got in his arms, I wonder? Looks
+like another chap, as though they'd been in the wars together."</p>
+
+<p>It was Paul, hastening to the school with Hibbert. In another minute he
+had passed by where Crick was hiding. Then Crick heard voices. It was
+Paul speaking to Waterman at the school door. The listener caught the
+word "accident." The next moment Waterman darted past him. The coast
+being again clear, Crick promptly followed in Waterman's footsteps. He
+was not long in reaching the hedge behind which Mellor was awaiting
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Got it?" was the eager question.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Look!"</p>
+
+<p>Mellor could have shouted with joy. Was it possible that the flag was
+actually in their possession?</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo, Crick! It's the biggest thing we've ever scored over the
+Gargoyles. My! won't they be savage! There'll be no holding them in when
+they find their flag's gone. But what's up? There's been an accident of
+some sort."</p>
+
+<p>"I know there has. I nearly ran into a fellow who was carrying a kid in
+his arms. Luckily I pulled up in time. Who were they&mdash;do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"One was Percival, the fellow who skedaddled from Wyndham at the
+sand-pit. I don't know the kid he had in his arms, he must be a
+fresher."</p>
+
+<p>"A fresher! He wasn't much of a fresher to look at. He looked like a
+drowned rat."</p>
+
+<p>The two returned to St. Bede's by the longest but less frequented way,
+and at length reached it without further adventure. They determined to
+hide the flag for the time being, and to confide the secret to their own
+Form only&mdash;the Fourth.</p>
+
+<p>The Fourth was very jubilant, as may be imagined, at the feat performed
+by Crick and Mellor, who were at once looked upon as heroes. The flag,
+meanwhile, had been hidden in a barn, standing in a field near St.
+Bede's, belonging to a father of one of the day boys in Mellor's Form.</p>
+
+<p>Frequently they met in the barn, and withdrawing the flag from its
+hiding-place, stuck it in the centre of the floor, and danced round it
+like a band of wild Indians celebrating a victory.</p>
+
+<p>Things were at this pass when Paul came to the decision to visit St.
+Bede's, to see if he could obtain information as to the missing flag.
+Plunger and Moncrief minor happened to be out on an expedition of their
+own that afternoon on Cranstead Common. Plunger caught sight of Paul as
+he turned the bend of the road leading to St. Bede's.</p>
+
+<p>"That was Percival, I'm pretty well sure of it," he cried. "Didn't you
+see him?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. By himself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't he always by himself? But let's make certain."</p>
+
+<p>The two boys ran to the roadway and glanced along it. There, sure
+enough, was Percival striding quickly along in the direction of St.
+Bede's.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's he making for? For the seminary of the crawlers, seems to me,"
+said Plunger. "Queer sort of chap! What can he want up there?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry did not answer. He recalled the afternoon when he had seen Paul
+speaking to Wyndham. He had tried to forget that incident, and along
+with it the incident that had happened at the sand-pit. He had tried to
+think only of Paul's heroism on the river when he had saved the lives of
+three of his school-fellows. He had cheered him as heartily as the rest
+on that day when Baldry had called for "Three cheers for Percival!"
+After, as we have seen, he had tried to heal the differences between his
+cousin and Percival; but now all the old suspicions came back with a
+rush.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; what can he want up there? Supposing we find out. There can be no
+harm in watching him."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger, as we know, had the bump of curiosity largely developed, and
+his curiosity to know what Paul was doing at St. Bede's caused him to
+forget, perhaps, that in playing the spy he was not altogether making
+the best return in his power to one who had risked so much to save him
+from a watery grave.</p>
+
+<p>So he at once fell in with Harry's suggestion, and the two, keeping in
+the background, followed in the footsteps of Paul.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>FRIEND AND FOE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Paul, unconscious that he was being followed, pressed forward to St.
+Bede's. As he drew near a boy came from the gates. Paul recognized him.
+It was Murrell, one of the seniors at St. Bede's, who had taken part
+with the others in hustling and jibing at him the last time he came in
+that direction.</p>
+
+<p>Murrell caught sight of him almost simultaneously, so that it would have
+been impossible for Paul to avoid him had he wished.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo! Turned up again, have you?" cried the youth, coming to a dead
+stop in front of Paul. "I thought you'd had enough of these parts the
+last time you were here. But p'raps you enjoy ragging. There's no
+accounting for tastes&mdash;specially the taste of a Gargoyle. Look here, if
+I were you I would cut!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you would. If you were me you would stand your ground,
+and that's what I mean doing," smiled Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"You're jolly cheeky, Gargoyle! Now, look here, take the advice of one
+who wants to do you a good turn&mdash;cut! There are a lot of the Bedes
+hanging about, and if they happen to get hold of you, there won't be
+much left of you, I can tell you! Are you insured?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"My stars! I wouldn't like to be standing in your shoes&mdash;I really
+wouldn't! Tired of life&mdash;eh? That's why you're poking your head into the
+lion's den&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wrong again&mdash;quite wrong. I've come to see one of your fellows who's
+been very kind to me&mdash;Wyndham."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Wyndham! The one you ran away from at the sand-pits?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul winced under the jibe. He had not yet got over that weakness.
+Murrell was regarding him curiously. No answer coming from his victim,
+he spoke again:</p>
+
+<p>"You want me to fetch Wyndham?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you would be so kind."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you don't take the cake&mdash;likewise the bun, and the biscuit! A
+Gargoyle has the superb cheek to ask a Bede to be his errand-boy! Stands
+Scotland where it did? Is the world going round, or is it standing
+still? Am I standing on my head or my heels? Now, then&mdash;your last
+chance! If you don't want to go back in pieces, take it!
+Going&mdash;going&mdash;gone!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't intend going till I've seen Wyndham," said Paul firmly. "If you
+won't do me the favour I ask, I must keep on till I find some one a
+little more courteous."</p>
+
+<p>He was about to pass on, when Murrell stopped him with a friendly pat on
+the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"All right! You needn't get into a wax! You're not such a bad sort of
+fellow, after all, for a Gargoyle! Wait here! Shan't be long!"</p>
+
+<p>His tone had suddenly changed, and before Paul could say anything
+further he was gone. Paul was so astonished that he could scarcely
+believe the evidence of his eyes and ears. In an instant Murrell's
+attitude had changed from a threatening to a friendly attitude. Was it
+meant to mislead him? Had he no intention of going for Wyndham? Did he
+mean instead to acquaint some of the boys who had previously set on him
+of his arrival, so that they might carry out the purpose which they had
+been forced to relinquish? This view seemed certainly the more probable
+of the two, and therefore Paul was very agreeably surprised when, a
+couple of minutes later, he saw the well-known figure of Wyndham coming
+from the college gates towards him. His handsome face lit up with a
+smile as he caught sight of Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival," he said, as his hand went out to him, "I'm so glad to see
+you! So was Murrell."</p>
+
+<p>"So was Murrell!" repeated Paul. "You wouldn't say so if you knew the
+reception he gave me just now. You're joking?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I was never more serious in my life. As a Bede, he was bound not to
+be over-polite to a Garsider; but he thinks a good deal more of you than
+he did, and so do most of us&mdash;all through Murrell. Why? Well, he
+happened to catch a glimpse of what happened on the river a week or so
+ago&mdash;came up at the tag-end, but heard all that had happened from some
+of the other fellows on the bank. Murrell and many more here are
+beginning to think that you are too good for a Gargoyle, though you
+didn't cut such a grand figure at the sand-pits. They're beginning to
+believe what they wouldn't swallow at the time&mdash;that you're one of the
+bravest fellows at Garside. To think that I'm the only fellow who knows
+how brave! Why don't you let me speak and set you right?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, Wyndham! You're very good; but it mustn't be. There are reasons
+against it which you will know some day. But there is a way in which you
+can serve me."</p>
+
+<p>"What way? If I can help you, be sure I will."</p>
+
+<p>Paul thereupon told him the additional misfortune that had happened at
+Garside on the afternoon the boys fell into the river in the loss of the
+school flag. Wyndham listened to the story attentively. He did not speak
+till Paul had ended.</p>
+
+<p>"You mean to suggest, I suppose, that some of the fellows here took the
+flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"To speak frankly, I do; but I know well enough that you've not had a
+hand in it."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks for your good opinion; but I don't know that I deserve it. After
+all, why shouldn't I have had a hand in it? The fellows here look upon
+you as the enemy, and you look upon us in the same light. Haven't we a
+perfect right to get possession of the enemy's flag if we can?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; in fair and open battle. But this wasn't in fair and open battle;
+it was a theft."</p>
+
+<p>"That's rather a hard word, Percival. It's as good as saying some one
+here's a thief!"</p>
+
+<p>Wyndham spoke with greater warmth than Paul had ever heard him speak.
+For the first time he saw an angry light in his eye.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me, Wyndham! I've hurt your feelings; I can see that I have.
+And you are the last in the world I would do that to. I'll withdraw
+theft. Let's call it strategy."</p>
+
+<p>The cloud vanished like magic from Wyndham's face.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a very polite and nice way of putting it, Percival," he smiled.
+"You're a great deal more considerate of my feelings than I am of yours.
+I tell you what"&mdash;his face became serious again&mdash;"it's done me a lot of
+good since I knew you; since I was able to open my heart to you and tell
+you about the little brother who was taken from us years back. I've
+often wished that I was at Garside to stand by you. It must be very
+lonely for you over there."</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed; it's far from lonely, but sometimes it has been very, very
+hard to bear. If Moncrief had only stood by me, and all the rest of the
+school had been against me, I would not have minded; but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, do not speak of that! It makes me miserable. It gave me a savage
+delight at the time to fight that fellow. It made me a hero here; but
+since I've begun to think a little I feel very far from a hero myself.
+It would have been far better had I never fought. It has made bad blood
+between you and Moncrief; it took from you your best friend, and set
+your school against you. It did worse than that; it has widened the
+breach between St. Bede's and Garside, and deepened the old feud, which
+was beginning to die out. And now that it has been stirred into a flame
+again, it will take longer than ever to die out."</p>
+
+<p>He paused for a moment, as though deep in thought. Paul, too, was busy
+with his own thoughts. He knew not how to answer him.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't speak against yourself, Wyndham, for it pains me a great deal
+more than it pains you. I owe you a lot for the help you gave me on that
+night I went to Redmead; but there's one other debt, greater than that
+even, of which I have never spoken. Speaking just now of your little
+brother has brought it all back to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Speaking of my brother?" repeated Wyndham, with that tremor in his
+voice which had fallen so pathetically on Paul's ear when he had first
+spoken of the dead boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Your brother Archie. I haven't forgotten the name, you see, and I have
+never forgotten&mdash;never shall forget&mdash;the story. I had never tried to
+understand younger boys till then. We bigger boys rarely do, I'm afraid.
+We think them only good for cuffing and fagging; so there's never much
+sympathy between us. When we pass to the upper forms we only remember
+the cuffs and kicks we got in the lower forms, and think it our duty to
+pay them back with interest. But your story&mdash;the story of your dead
+brother&mdash;stuck in my memory. I carried it back with me when I returned
+to Garside after vac. The first little chap I came across was a
+fresher&mdash;a poor, weak, lonely little chap, who hadn't a chum in the
+school. I thought of your brother. My heart went out to the boy, and I
+said to myself: 'By God's help, I'll stand by you; and I'll be your
+friend!'"</p>
+
+<p>"That was noble of you!" said Wyndham, clasping Paul's hand in his. "Who
+is the little chap? Is he still at Garside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Still at Garside!" repeated Paul, in tones that had died away almost to
+a whisper. "He's the little chap I fished out of the river."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, then, you've nobly redeemed your promise. You saved his life."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot say. He is still in bed&mdash;still very weak; but the link between
+us kept me strong when all Garside was against me. Once or twice it
+seemed more than I could stand, and I had serious thoughts of throwing
+up the sponge and clearing out of Garside. What was there to keep me
+there? Then I thought of Hibbert, and the thought made me strong again.
+So I kept on, and weathered the storm&mdash;or, rather, am still weathering
+it. The thought of the little chap kept me to my duty."</p>
+
+<p>Once more there was silence between them. Wyndham had tucked his arm in
+Paul's. The two were walking along the road to Cranstead Common. The
+bond of sympathy between them had grown stronger and stronger during
+those brief moments in which they had bared their hearts to each other.</p>
+
+<p>"About this flag," broke in Wyndham. "Do you know for certain that it's
+been taken by some fellow here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; it's only a suspicion. I may be wrong, but I don't think I am."</p>
+
+<p>"When was it missed?"</p>
+
+<p>"On that afternoon when the accident took place on the river. It was a
+half-holiday at both schools. It was waving over the turret when I left
+the school; it had gone when I came back."</p>
+
+<p>"That's over a week ago, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"The fellow who took it must have had plenty of pluck. Well, if I can do
+anything in fairness to get you your flag back again, I'll do it; but at
+present it's as great a mystery to me as to you."</p>
+
+<p>The two shook hands and parted.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger and Harry had crept through a hedge, and witnessed a good deal
+of the interview that had taken place between the two, without hearing
+anything. When the two passed down the road&mdash;Wyndham with his arm linked
+in Paul's&mdash;Plunger and Harry prepared to follow them; but before they
+could move a step they were seized by the legs and thrown to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Those Gargoyles!" The words were enough. They were in the hands of the
+enemy.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MYSTIC ORDER OF BEETLES</h3>
+
+
+<p>To the bewilderment of Plunger and Moncrief minor they found themselves
+in the grip of four figures, with masks somewhat after the fashion of
+those worn by motorists. They had been taken so completely by surprise
+that they made no attempt at resistance. If they had it would have been
+useless, for their captors held them firmly by both arms, and rushed
+them breathlessly across the field as far as possible from the roadway.</p>
+
+<p>"St&mdash;stop it, will you?" Plunger at length found breath enough to
+stammer. "Oh&mdash;oh!"</p>
+
+<p>The last exclamation was caused by a sharp dig in the ribs, which
+brought his question to an abrupt conclusion. Inspired by Plunger's
+example, Harry thought that he might also venture on a question.</p>
+
+<p>"Who&mdash;who are you? And&mdash;and&mdash;where are you taking us?"</p>
+
+<p>An answer was conveyed to him in the same forcible manner in which it
+had been conveyed to Plunger; but, though the dig in the ribs made him
+gasp, it did not altogether silence him.</p>
+
+<p>"Crawlers&mdash;wretched Beetles&mdash;that's what you are! Oh, oh, oh!"</p>
+
+<p>A dig in the ribs from both sides effectually closed Harry's lips for
+the time being, while the pace at which his captors took him along was
+increased to such a rate that he could scarcely keep his feet. At length
+they stopped before a barn, and the foremost of the four captors knocked
+upon the door three times with his knuckles.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's there?" came a voice from within.</p>
+
+<p>"Four of the Brethren," answered the youth who had knocked.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; we have brought two novices who are anxious to be introduced to the
+mystic order."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger began to prick up his ears. The mystic order? What mystic order?
+And what were they going to do with them?</p>
+
+<p>"Two novices who are anxious to be introduced to the mystic order?" came
+the voice from within. "They wish to become brethren?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"N&mdash;n&mdash;no!" came in a gasp from Plunger's lips; but another sharp dig in
+his ribs reduced him once more to silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, most worthy K. O. P. They are dying to become brethren of the
+noble band."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, you unkind Beetles," began Harry. "Oh, oh!"</p>
+
+<p>He was silenced by the same unfailing method which had just been brought
+to bear upon his companion.</p>
+
+<p>A short conversation took place between the masked figure who had acted
+as spokesman and the person within. At the end of it the former turned
+to his companions.</p>
+
+<p>"Blindfold the novices. The Keeper of the Portal has commanded it."</p>
+
+<p>Keeper of the Portal? That, then, was the meaning of the initials "K. O.
+P." thought Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>It was getting more and more mysterious, but he did not like the idea of
+being blindfolded. What were they going to do with him&mdash;with Moncrief?
+At first he felt inclined to resist, but a sharp twist of the wrist soon
+convinced him that resistance was useless. Harry had come to the same
+conclusion, so they submitted with the best grace they could to bandages
+being placed round their eyes. Then they heard the door open and the
+voice of the "Keeper of the Portal" commanding them to enter.</p>
+
+<p>They entered. As they did so, Plunger thought he heard some one
+sniggering, and again a wild idea crossed his mind that he would strike
+out and make a desperate effort to escape from his captors; but the
+instant he moved he was brought to a standstill by the energetic
+measures which were now becoming painfully familiar to him.</p>
+
+<p>The sniggering, if sniggering it was, soon ceased, and then a strange
+silence reigned in the barn. The silence was a great deal worse to
+Plunger than any amount of ridicule. Who were in the barn? What was
+happening?</p>
+
+<p>He strained his ears to the utmost. He could hear the sound of
+mysterious footsteps walking stealthily to and fro, but no one spoke. He
+stood there and shivered, though the perspiration was oozing from his
+forehead. Was some desperate plot on foot against them? The footsteps
+ceased. All was again so still that he began to think the barn had been
+deserted and that he had been left in it blindfolded, to make his way
+from it the best he could. He was about to call out to Harry when a
+voice he had not yet heard called out sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"Gargoyle with the eyebrows, what is thy name?"</p>
+
+<p>Gargoyle with the eyebrows!</p>
+
+<p>"S'pose that's meant for me," thought Plunger, "but I'm not going to
+answer such impudent questions."</p>
+
+<p>"The noble president speaketh. Answer, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch,"
+came a voice in Plunger's ear, accompanied by a sharp kick on the shins.</p>
+
+<p>Gargoyle with the eyebrows! Gargoyle with the wiry thatch! Was there
+ever such insolence? But that kick on the shins told Plunger that to
+raise any protest would only bring upon him worse punishment, so he
+stammered out:</p>
+
+<p>"Fre&mdash;Frederick Pl&mdash;Plunger."</p>
+
+<p>"Plunger! Thy name is worse than thy face."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger heard sniggers on every side at this reference to his name, of
+which he had always been very proud.</p>
+
+<p>"It's such an uncommon one, you know," he had often said to his cronies
+at Garside. And now the wretched crew into whose hands he had fallen
+were trying to make fun of it. He bubbled over with indignation, but
+simmered down on hearing similar questions put to his companion in
+misfortune.</p>
+
+<p>He was aroused from these reflections by hearing the chief of the band
+exclaim, in tones of command:</p>
+
+<p>"Make fast the portal!"</p>
+
+<p>He heard the sound as of a rusty bolt being thrust into its socket.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, you chaps," he protested, beginning to feel alarmed again as he
+heard this ominous sound, "I wish you'd stop your larks and take this
+wretched thing from my eyes. If you'll just oblige me, I won't give you
+away&mdash;I really won't."</p>
+
+<p>"We're going to take the bandage from thy eyes, but first thou must
+promise, on the banner of our Noble Order, to become a comrade and a
+brother."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I promise," stammered Plunger, anxious only to get the use of his
+eyes again.</p>
+
+<p>"Thou must promise also, by the same sacred emblem, never to reveal what
+thou dost see."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I promise."</p>
+
+<p>The same questions were put to Harry, who was just as anxious as his
+companion to see what was going on, and thought that no possible harm
+could be done in following Plunger's lead. So he gave the same promises.</p>
+
+<p>The bandages, however, were not immediately removed. The two boys could
+hear the sound of footsteps moving round them, and voices chanting in
+some unknown tongue what seemed to be a mysterious incantation.</p>
+
+<p>"Remove the bandages," commanded the chief, when this curious
+incantation, of which the two prisoners could make nothing, had ended.</p>
+
+<p>At this command the bandages were removed. The scene that presented
+itself to the astonished eyes of Plunger and Harry was one of the most
+extraordinary they had ever witnessed. Their four captors seemed to have
+disappeared. Standing around them in a circle were what appeared to be
+eleven beetles standing erect on two legs, instead of crawling about on
+four. On the breast of each was a letter, which, being white, stood out
+prominently from the dark background, and gave to this singular circle a
+still more singular appearance. The letters made up the following:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>M. O. OF BEETLES.</p></div>
+
+<p>in other words&mdash;The Mystic Order of Beetles.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger rubbed his eyes. Was he awake or sleeping? He was wide enough
+awake, but he could not at once grasp the situation. What did it all
+mean?</p>
+
+<p>The reader has doubtless made a better guess at what had happened than
+Plunger. It was in this way. Mellor and Crick, the two boys who had
+gained possession of the Garside flag, had found a good deal of
+amusement at first in making surreptitious visits to the barn, and
+dancing round their capture, but they soon began to long for something
+more exciting. Truth to tell, the capture had not made the sensation in
+the ranks of the enemy they had anticipated&mdash;so at least it seemed to
+them. They had expected early reprisals, but none had come. So, after
+they had performed a war-dance round the flag with their companions five
+or six times, Mellor yearned for something more exciting. So did Crick.
+So did the others.</p>
+
+<p>"The Gargoyles don't seem to worry much about the flag after all," said
+Mellor, thoughtfully wiping his brow, after the last of these spirited
+exercises round the Garside standard.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit. Seems to me they're only too glad to get rid of the wretched
+thing," remarked Finch, one of the boys who had been envious of the
+daring capture.</p>
+
+<p>"Are they? That's all you know, Finch," retorted Mellor, angry that his
+remark should be taken so literally. "If we could only see them, we
+should find them tearing their hair and gnashing their teeth."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why don't they come after their property and try to get it back
+again?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because they don't know for certain who's got it. They're lying low."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'd better do the same. I can't see much fun in hopping round
+the wretched rag. Why the Gargoyles should make so much of it I can't
+make out."</p>
+
+<p>"That's because you've never been at Garside. I dare say if we'd been
+left a flag like that by an old school-fellow who had made a name for
+himself, we should have been as proud of it as they are. It was worth
+getting just to set those bounders back a bit. I should like to see you
+do what Crick did, Finch!"</p>
+
+<p>There were murmurs of approval at this, and Finch subsided into silence.
+Nevertheless, when Mellor began to reflect, there seemed to be a good
+deal of force in Finch's observation. There wasn't much fun, after all,
+in hopping round "the wretched rag." So he thought of a way to improve
+matters. Once or twice the idea had occurred to him of establishing a
+society calling itself the "Mystic Order of Beetles," and using it for
+the benefit of the rivals who had bestowed upon them so contemptuous a
+title.</p>
+
+<p>Directly he mentioned it to his companions it was hailed with
+enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>What could be better than making some of those wretched Gargoyles eat
+humble pie under the very flag they were so proud of? So amongst them
+they designed an appropriate costume for the "Mystic Order of Beetles,"
+and the meeting-place and dressing-room were arranged in the barn.</p>
+
+<p>So the society was started. Having started it, the next thing was to
+capture some of the enemy. In order to accomplish this interesting
+purpose, a band of scouts was established for the purpose of reporting
+on the movements of the enemy at the first favourable opportunity. It so
+happened that this was on the very day that Paul went to Wyndham to make
+inquiries about the flag.</p>
+
+<p>The scouts were rather disappointed when they found, from their post of
+observation on the other side of the hedge, that the boy making his way
+to St. Bede's was Percival. There had been already one trial of strength
+with him which had not been entirely successful. Besides which Wyndham
+had championed his cause, and they were bound to respect Wyndham's
+opinion. Furthermore, the fame of Paul's heroism had reached St. Bede's,
+as the reader has seen, and they had lost their former contempt for him.
+They were therefore on the point of turning disconsolately away when
+their eyes were gladdened by the sight of Plunger and Harry following
+Paul.</p>
+
+<p>Here were the prizes they had longed for. The enemy was delivered into
+their hands.</p>
+
+<p>So the scouts had carried off their prisoners to the barn, where their
+comrades were waiting them. What followed we have seen.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger and Harry looked on the extraordinary circle which surrounded
+them in wonder. No word fell from the Beetles. They stood perfectly
+still, as though enjoying the surprise which their extraordinary
+appearance had created in the breast of their prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, you are a rum lot!" Plunger at length burst out. "Mystic Order
+of Beetles! Ha, ha!"</p>
+
+<p>He burst into a wild fit of laughter, but his laughter was suddenly
+checked by a resounding thud upon the shoulders. He then discovered that
+the Beetles standing around him were armed with sheepskin bladders
+attached to sticks. They did not hurt much, but the noise they made was
+considerable.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence! Thy mirth is unseemly," came from the chief of the circle, who
+was no other than Mellor. "Remember, that thou hast been admitted to the
+Mystic Order of Beetles, and hast promised by the sacred emblem above
+thee to be true to the cause."</p>
+
+<p>The sacred emblem above! The prisoners looked up. There was a flag
+hanging from the roof of the barn&mdash;a tattered flag. Plunger rubbed his
+eyes. Surely it was the old flag&mdash;the flag of Garside?</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;why&mdash;that's&mdash;that's&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Silence!"</p>
+
+<p>The bladders came down in a perfect shower on Plunger's head and
+shoulders. As for Harry, he could not speak. The sight of the flag had
+smitten him dumb.</p>
+
+<p>"Thou hast promised to be true to the cause," repeated the chief
+solemnly. "Should'st thou ever dare to break the vow, thou wilt be
+haunted for the rest of thy life&mdash;haunted sleeping and waking by the
+Beetles thou hast betrayed! Describe the mystic circle."</p>
+
+<p>Describe the mystic circle! What in the name of wonder was that? The
+bladders descended upon Plunger as he stood in the centre of the ring
+with his companion, wondering what was expected of him.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't know any mystic circles," he stammered in despair.</p>
+
+<p>"On hands and knees&mdash;quick!"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger hastened to obey the command.</p>
+
+<p>"Crawl round the mystic circle three times."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger would have refused had he dared, but he dared not; so, amid a
+good deal of suppressed laughter from the Beetles standing round him, he
+crawled round the circle three times.</p>
+
+<p>"Rise, brother!" commanded Mellor, when he had accomplished this feat.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger gladly sprang to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Give him the mystic tap."</p>
+
+<p>Thwack&mdash;thwack came the bladders on Plunger's devoted head. And Plunger
+almost regretted that he had risen. Harry went bravely through the same
+ordeal. This accomplished, the Beetles joined hands, and galloping
+wildly around the two boys, chanted:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Beetles of the mystic band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wind we round thee, hand in hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rest not, pause not, hither crawl;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or to the realms of creepy-crawley,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shivery-shaky, we will haul thee!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>As this incantation went on, Plunger and Harry had a lively time inside
+the mystic circle. By the dexterous application of a knee or a shoulder,
+Plunger would be sent with a run in one direction, while Harry would be
+sent flying in another. They were whirled about from this side to that
+like indiarubber balls. Then of a sudden they would find themselves
+closely embracing each other in the centre of the ring, only to be
+sundered again, and sent flying in another direction.</p>
+
+<p>At length the "Brethren of the Mystic Order" stopped breathless, much to
+the relief of Plunger and Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"Keeper of the Portal conduct our newly-made brothers to the door."</p>
+
+<p>The Keeper of the Portal, Crick, conducted them to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"The time has come to say farewell&mdash;for the present," said Mellor, as
+they all gathered round the door. "Don't forget that thou art pledged to
+us by the bonds of our noble order. In token whereof, give them the
+mystic wallop."</p>
+
+<p>The bladders came down with a resounding thwack on the newly-made
+brethren, during which the Keeper of the Portal opened the door. Plunger
+and Harry darted through. Roars of laughter followed them, but they did
+not look back. They did not pause till they were well on the road to
+Garside.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Moncrief minor," said Plunger, drawing up breathless, "we've
+dropped in for a fine thing."</p>
+
+<p>The same idea had occurred to Harry, but he was not so ready to admit
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, we've joined hands with the enemy&mdash;the Beetles. There's no getting
+out of it."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose there isn't," answered Harry gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>They walked on in silence for a few moments. Then Harry glanced round,
+as though half fearful that some one was following, and whispered:</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Plunger."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you notice the flag we were standing under?"</p>
+
+<p>"The flag we were standing under?" repeated Plunger innocently. "Well,
+not particularly. What was it like?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like! I believe it was the school flag!"</p>
+
+<p>"You don't say so. Never!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm positive it was."</p>
+
+<p>"The school flag? This is awful! Couldn't you have let me know? What a
+duffer you are! I would have sacrificed my life to get that flag! I
+wouldn't have stood their nonsense like I did had I thought that was our
+flag. I would have fought them till my last breath. Why&mdash;why didn't you
+let me know?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you did know."</p>
+
+<p>"And to think that I crawled to them&mdash;crawled, with the flag of the old
+school looking on. It's nothing to you&mdash;you're only a fresher from
+Gaffer Quelch's; but to me, Plunger, it's&mdash;it's&mdash;&mdash;" Not being able to
+find a word strong enough to express his meaning, Plunger suddenly
+turned on Harry again. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Moncrief
+minor, letting me make such an ass of myself."</p>
+
+<p>"How could I help it, Freddy. They made an ass of me too."</p>
+
+<p>"There you go again, always poking your wretched self in. What does it
+matter to you? You don't count at Garside. I do&mdash;that's the difference.
+I wish you wouldn't look at these things from such a selfish point of
+view. You're always thinking of yourself&mdash;a miserable fresher, as I've
+said, from Gaffer Quelch's. If it ever gets about the school that I've
+been made a Beetle under the Garside flag, what will the fellows think
+of it? I shall never hear the last of it. I shall be roasted all round."</p>
+
+<p>"And serve you right, too!" cried Harry, losing his temper. "A jolly
+good roasting will do you good. It'll take some of the bounce out of
+you. If it hadn't been for you, we shouldn't have got into this mess."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Plunger hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"It was all through playing the spy on Percival. If it hadn't been for
+following him, those Beetles wouldn't have got hold of us."</p>
+
+<p>"Come, that's good. Your cheek's superb. That's the only thing you seem
+to have brought with you from Gaffer Quelch's. Who was it suggested we
+should follow Percival? Was it me, I should like to know, or one of the
+little prigs from Gaffer Quelch's?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry could not immediately respond. He had forgotten for the moment
+that the suggestion to follow Percival had come from him. But after a
+moment's reflection he answered lamely:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but it was you who caught sight of Percival as he was on the road
+to St. Bede's and put the suggestion in my head."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, of all the bosh&mdash;&mdash;Oh, shut up, or put on a strait-waistcoat.
+You're getting dangerous," said Plunger crushingly, seeing that he had
+"scored."</p>
+
+<p>Harry, indignant with himself, Plunger, and all the world, went on
+ahead. But after a bit Plunger caught up to him.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't get into a wax because I set you right just now. I flatter
+myself there aren't many chaps can score over me when I choose to set
+about them. It's not your fault that you've got too much of Gaffer
+Quelch's seminary for boys and girls about you. I had it for the first
+term at Garside, but I soon grew out of it. And you'll grow out of it,
+too. Fact is, Harry, neither of us is to blame for falling into the
+hands of the Philistines&mdash;Beetles, I mean. Let's put the blame on the
+right shoulders."</p>
+
+<p>"And the right shoulders are&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Percival. It was through following him we fell into that beastly trap,
+and it seems to me&mdash;though I don't like to say it&mdash;that Percival has a
+good deal to answer for. What was he doing at St. Bede's? What was he
+doing with that fellow, Wyndham, who knocked about your cousin so
+unmercifully at the sand-pits? Did you notice what good terms they were
+on&mdash;Wyndham with his arm tucked through Percival's."</p>
+
+<p>Harry had seen it all, and as Plunger was speaking he recalled that
+other scene he had striven so hard to forget&mdash;when he had seen Percival
+and Wyndham together near the school. He had tried to put that from him,
+especially since the heroism Percival had shown on the river. But now it
+all came back with a rush. There was not the slightest doubt that
+Percival and Wyndham were on terms of friendship. No one who had
+witnessed the scene that he and Plunger had witnessed could question it.
+What did it mean? There was something behind it all.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I noticed it, Freddy," he slowly answered. "It puzzles me, and I
+don't know what to make of it." Then looking up quickly, as though a
+sudden suspicion had come to him, he blurted out: "I say, is it possible
+that&mdash;that&mdash;&mdash;No, I can't say it&mdash;it's too horrid."</p>
+
+<p>"Out with it. There's no one to hear you but me. Remember, we're both in
+the same boat."</p>
+
+<p>"No one to hear me but you," said Harry, looking quickly round. "And I
+shouldn't like anybody to hear but you; it's a horrid suspicion that
+came into my mind just now. There must be something between Percival and
+Wyndham, that's certain. I've tried not to believe it; but it's no use
+trying to shut our eyes to facts. Can it be that Percival's plotting
+against his own school, can it be that he is betraying us to the
+enemy&mdash;those beastly Beetles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Funny! Just the same thing's been running through my mind. Can it be
+that he's betraying us to the enemy, and can it be"&mdash;here Plunger's
+voice dropped to a whisper, as though he feared the very hedges might
+overhear him&mdash;"that it was he who hauled down the school flag and handed
+it over to the Beetles?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; I can't believe that," cried Harry, clasping his hands over his
+face, as though to blot out the suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>"And I've been trying not to believe it, but what else are you to make
+of it? A Beetle couldn't have got to the turret and taken the flag off
+his own bat. There must have been some one helping him who knew all
+about the school. If it wasn't Percival, who was it? What are we to
+think after what we've seen?"</p>
+
+<p>So it came about that while Percival had been doing his best to trace
+out where the school flag had gone, so as to return it to its old place
+of honour on the turret, the suspicion came into the minds of these two
+boys that he was betraying the school.</p>
+
+<p>Even at the moment that this suspicion was born, Paul was sitting by the
+bedside of Hibbert, with the boy's hand in his. Hibbert had been
+talking, but the tired eyes, which shone out so brightly from the wan
+face, had begun to close. Yet the hand still held fast to Paul's. And as
+Paul looked down lovingly on the face, he murmured to himself the words
+he had spoken to Wyndham that afternoon&mdash;"The link between us kept me
+strong when all Garside was against me."</p>
+
+<p>And Paul had need of strength, for the battle had not yet ended.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2>
+
+<h3>A REMARKABLE DISCOVERY</h3>
+
+
+<p>The improvement in the school's attitude to Paul did not last long. The
+Garsiders who had come over to him with a swing, for some reason swung
+back with the same alacrity. The juniors who had cheered him to the echo
+in the dormitory now passed him without a word.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, Paul's mind was too much occupied just then with other
+matters to take much notice of this change. First and foremost in his
+thoughts was Hibbert. Would he pull through? The progress he made was
+very slow&mdash;if, indeed, it could be called progress. One day he seemed
+stronger, the next found him as weak as before. A curious thing had
+happened on the afternoon Paul returned to the school after his
+interview with Wyndham. Mr. Weevil had sent for him to his room. Paul
+thought that it was to reprimand him for something or other. He was
+agreeably surprised, therefore, when the master motioned him to a chair,
+and in a kindly voice, altogether unlike his "school voice," bade him
+sit down.</p>
+
+<p>"I understand that you've visited Hibbert once or twice," he began,
+regarding Paul through his half-closed eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Now it's coming," thought Paul. "He's going to forbid me visiting
+Hibbert." Then, aloud: "Yes, sir. I hope you've no objection."</p>
+
+<p>"I did object at first to visitors of any kind, because I thought it
+would do the lad more harm than good. But I think the objection may be
+withdrawn as far as you're concerned."</p>
+
+<p>Paul could scarcely believe his ears. Had he heard Mr. Weevil aright?</p>
+
+<p>"He seems to look forward eagerly to your visits, more than to the
+visits of anybody"&mdash;a sigh, so slight as to be almost imperceptible,
+escaped the master's lips. "It would be cruel to debar the poor little
+fellow from any pleasure we can give him. Therefore, Percival, I hope
+you will understand that you are quite at liberty to visit him when you
+feel inclined."</p>
+
+<p>"It is very kind of you, sir, and I am deeply grateful."</p>
+
+<p>"You will be careful, of course, not to make your visits too long, or
+not to unduly excite him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, sir; I'll be careful of that."</p>
+
+<p>Paul rose to go, thinking the interview at an end. As he did so, the
+master placed a hand upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"You have been very good to the boy&mdash;God will reward you! The fear
+sometimes oppresses me that he will not get over this illness."</p>
+
+<p>The half closed eyes were blinking in a curious fashion. Indeed, Paul
+saw what was suspiciously like a tear slowly making its way down the
+cheek of the master. His emotion was no longer a mystery to Paul.
+Hibbert's revelation had thrown a light upon it. He now knew that the
+man whom he had regarded as without emotion&mdash;as one wrapped up
+completely in his equations and scientific formul&aelig;&mdash;had yet a deeply
+human side. Hibbert was the son of his dead sister, and he loved
+him&mdash;loved him with a love that was a hundred times greater than that
+which the boy's own father had ever bestowed on him. And Paul learnt a
+lesson in that brief interview which he never forgot&mdash;that lying deep
+down in the hearts of most men, sometimes overladen by rust, sometimes
+in the midst of decay, may frequently be found a vein of purest gold.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say that, sir. He was looking better the last time I saw him. He
+will pull round as soon as he can get out a bit."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope your words will come true, Percival; but he's so frail. If he
+were only strong like you&mdash;but there, it's useless talking. It must be
+as God wills." Then his voice changed to its old frigid tone.</p>
+
+<p>"You can go, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Thus abruptly dismissed, Paul went out.</p>
+
+<p>"Weevil's a puzzle," he said to himself. "I'm as far off knowing him as
+ever I was; but there seems to be some warm blood in him, and that's
+something. I thought he was all pothooks and hangers at one time; but he
+can't be as bad as that. That shows you shouldn't go by appearances.
+He's not half as black as I painted him."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was very pleased that he could now visit Hibbert without
+restriction, and that same night he visited him, much to the boy's joy,
+and sat by his bed, as we have seen, till he slept.</p>
+
+<p>Thus it was Paul took little heed of the school's attitude towards him
+for the next few days. Then an incident happened which was to absorb his
+attention still more. Thinking of Mr. Weevil, and his recent interview,
+his mind went naturally back to that evening when, devoured with
+curiosity, he had followed him to Cranstead Common. The more he thought
+of it, the more he wondered what could have become of him on that night
+he had so strangely disappeared from view before his very eyes. The
+ground had not swallowed him up, for he had returned to school that same
+night. What, then, was the meaning of it?</p>
+
+<p>Paul had promised himself that he would make an effort to find out; so,
+as he had heard nothing from Wyndham, he seized the first opportunity
+that occurred to visit that part of the common where the master had
+disappeared. He followed the trail which the master had pursued in the
+direction of the river until he came to the thickly-wooded part where
+the trees, furze-bushes, brake, and bramble grew in wild profusion.</p>
+
+<p>This was the spot where he had lost sight of him. At first Paul could
+see nothing but the brambles. Examining the place more minutely, he
+found the bushes curiously divided in the centre. Feeling beneath them,
+his hand came in contact with cold iron. It was a ring, attached to a
+circular piece of wood, rusty and moss-grown, so that in appearance
+there was little to distinguish it from the undergrowth. He found little
+difficulty in moving it.</p>
+
+<p>He thought at first that it would prove to be the entrance to a well,
+similar to the well in the ruins where he had hidden on the night he had
+fled from Zuker; but to his amazement he discovered that it was no
+well, but led to a sloping tunnel cut in the sandstone. That then was
+the place where the master had so suddenly disappeared. For what
+purpose? And where did it lead? It was impossible to tell without
+exploring it. Should he make the venture? Should he enter it?</p>
+
+<p>Paul hesitated for a moment, but only for a moment. The next he entered
+the tunnel, cautiously drawing over the lid which concealed it. The
+passage in which he found himself sloped downward, and was at first
+scarcely large enough to allow him to walk upright. Little of light
+penetrated into it, and he had, therefore, to walk cautiously along,
+like a blind man, making sure of every step he took.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the path seemed to broaden. Extending his arms to their full
+extent Paul could just feel the walls on either side. He proceeded still
+more slowly, straining his ears to catch the sound of footsteps. All was
+silent. It was the silence of the tomb.</p>
+
+<p>"My stars, what a queer place! I wish I could only strike a light, so as
+to have a peep at it," thought Paul. "What can Mr. Weevil do down here?
+It isn't a cheerful place, even for a man who happens to be very much in
+love with his own society."</p>
+
+<p>He came to a sudden pause. What was the use of exploring the tunnel
+further? He could see nothing, hear nothing. So where was the use of
+groping along in the darkness? It was folly, especially when he might be
+precipitated at any moment into some hidden chasm. But folly though it
+might be, Paul could not turn back. A mysterious voice within him seemed
+to be urging him on. If Mr. Weevil had passed along that tunnel in
+safety, why shouldn't he? It must have an outlet somewhere, and Paul
+grew more and more curious to find out what that outlet could be.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel very much like an explorer in darkest Africa," he smiled to
+himself. "Shall I be coming across an unknown lake presently, or a race
+of pigmies? Hallo! What's that? Light at last."</p>
+
+<p>Light it was but of the faintest. It came with a faint streak into the
+tunnel. The darkness was only darkness before, but now fantastic shadows
+seemed to menace Paul at every footstep he took. Feeble though the
+light was, it was enough to show him that the tunnel had broadened
+considerably. Stepping warily along, the light grew stronger at every
+step, until he at length discovered that the path along which he was so
+cautiously travelling led into a cave lit with oil-lamps.</p>
+
+<p>Then he came to a sudden pause again, and his heart beat wildly against
+his ribs, as he caught the sound of voices. The cave was not empty.
+There was some one inside. Who?</p>
+
+<p>As he approached nearer he saw that a curtain was partly drawn over the
+entrance. Paul knew that a false step might betray him.</p>
+
+<p>To lessen the risk of detection, therefore, he crawled on hands and
+knees to the curtain, and eagerly peered through the space nearest the
+wall.</p>
+
+<p>The cave looked quite warm and comfortable. A fire of anthracite, which
+sent out plenty of heat but no smoke, burnt on a hearth cut out of the
+sandstone. Two or three lamps suspended from the roof diffused an
+Oriental glow, while several warm bear-skin rugs were scattered over the
+ground.</p>
+
+<p>A couple of guns and two or three cutlasses were hanging on the wall;
+and what was more astonishing to Paul, several maps and designs. The
+nature of these it was impossible for him to ascertain. He further
+noticed that in one niche of the wall was a photographic camera. In
+another were ship models, in the third the models of torpedoes, engines,
+and machinery of various kind.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had taken all this in at a glance. He had not yet seen the
+occupants of the cave, but there appeared from what he could hear, to be
+only two. They were conversing in low tones at the far end, where the
+lights from the lamps dimly penetrated. After a while the conversation
+became more animated, and the two moved to a table at the centre.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we've succeeded in quieting suspicion," said the foremost of
+the two. As he spoke the light from the lamp fell full upon his face.</p>
+
+<p>It was Zuker, the German Jew!</p>
+
+<p>Paul's glance turned from him to the other man. It was Brockman, the
+burly ruffian who had seized the bridle of Falcon on the night of his
+flight to Redmead&mdash;the ruffian who struck the blow which caused the
+gallant horse's death.</p>
+
+<p>"We've succeeded in calming suspicion for the time being," Zuker was
+saying, "and that is a great point in our favour; but still we must move
+cautiously. A false step, and down would fall all my plans like a house
+of cards. We've been very near discovery once or twice, the nearest was
+when that youngster got ahead of us with the packet. You remember?"</p>
+
+<p>"Remember! I'm never likely to forget it," said Brockman. "I could never
+understand how it was the youngster slipped through my fingers."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it doesn't matter so much as it has turned out, for those
+Admiralty men&mdash;the Hansons&mdash;have gone to sleep again. They think that
+danger is passed, that Zuker, the man they so fear and dread, is out of
+England."</p>
+
+<p>He chuckled softly to himself. Paul grew colder. He knew well enough the
+youngster they were referring to, no one better, for it was himself. It
+was quite clear that the letter he had sent from the school to Mr.
+Moncrief had never reached him. A staggering suspicion flashed into his
+mind. He recalled that he had entrusted the posting of that letter to
+Hibbert. Could it have been that Hibbert had failed him, or worse, could
+it have been that Hibbert had deceived him? Was he not the son of Zuker?
+But the suspicion only dwelt in his mind for one brief moment, and he
+felt indignant with himself that it had rested there so long.</p>
+
+<p>How could he doubt Hibbert, the one boy at Garside who had so clung to
+him and who was at that moment lying on a bed of sickness?</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven forgive me!" he said to himself; then he caught the voices of
+the men as they again spoke, and listened eagerly.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE "FOX-HOLE"</h3>
+
+
+<p>"They really believe you're out of England. You're quite sure of that?"
+questioned Brockman, in his thick, guttural voice.</p>
+
+<p>"As sure of it as you're standing there," answered Zuker. "The search
+for me went on actively for a fortnight, and then dropped. How should
+they suspect a hiding-place like this? How should they suspect that when
+the hounds were in full chase of the fox, he had a hole to retreat to
+where they could never follow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! ha!" chuckled Brockman; "we ought to call it the Fox-Hole. I only
+wish we had the youngster in it who slipped through my fingers that
+night on the road to Redmead."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really?" said Paul to himself. "Well, the youngster's obliged
+you, and yet you don't seem to be grateful to him."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Zut! zut!</i> Don't worry about him. He's only a cipher&mdash;a pawn in the
+great game we have in hand. If we win, it'll be for a prize worth
+winning&mdash;fame and fortune," went on Zuker, as he strode to and fro with
+rapid strides. "Yes, fame and fortune, and we shall have dealt a
+staggering blow at a country that we hate. The risk is great, but the
+stakes are greater still, and each day makes our position surer."</p>
+
+<p>"Surer? Do you think so? Sometimes it seems to me, master, that we're
+standing on the very edge of a deep precipice, and that one day we shall
+make a false step, and then&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Brockman did not finish the sentence, but gave a significant shrug of
+the shoulders which was much more eloquent than words.</p>
+
+<p>"Das ist recht&mdash;that is right; I have never hidden from you the danger.
+It is true that one false step might spoil all my plans, but that only
+makes the game more worth the winning. And listen, Brockman, we must not
+make that false step. We made one on that night we let the boy get
+through with the cipher to Redmead. We must not make another."</p>
+
+<p>Paul's ears tingled as he listened. Notwithstanding the peril in which
+he stood, his heart beat with joy. The words of Mr. Moncrief came back
+to him: "You have not only done a great service for me and my brother,
+Paul, but for your country." He had almost forgotten those words in the
+whirl of events that had since happened at Garside, but now they came
+flashing back, shining out vividly as a beacon in the darkness around
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"No; we must not make another," answered Brockman, sending his fist
+vigorously into the palm of his hand to emphasize his words. There was
+silence between the two for a moment, then it was again broken by Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>"Those ancestors of yours were dull dogs, Brockman, but there must have
+been some grit in them to have got up to Chatham. See, they got to this
+point." Paul could see that a chart was spread out upon the table, and
+that Zuker was pointing with his finger to a place on it. "Here is the
+River Medway, which, as you know, can be reached through this tunnel."</p>
+
+<p>The river through that tunnel! Was he awake or dreaming? Paul could
+scarcely believe the evidence of his ears. His heart thumped so loudly
+against his ribs that he feared the conspirators might hear him.</p>
+
+<p>"A chain had been drawn across the river, for all England was in a state
+of alarm at the approach of the Dutchmen," went on Zuker.
+"Fortifications had been added to Sheerness and Upnor Castle just here."</p>
+
+<p>Brockman bent over the chart and followed the finger of Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>"Just there. And the chain&mdash;what happened to the chain?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sheerness was first taken, and then, taking advantage of a spring tide
+and an easterly wind, the Dutch broke the chain."</p>
+
+<p>"Broke it? But wasn't it fortified?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was guarded by three ships, but the Dutch took them. They played
+havoc with several other vessels, and advanced with six men-o'-war and
+five fireships as far as Upnor Castle, where they burned three more.
+That was good, wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid! Real pluck! Dull dogs and slow, as you say, but real grit.
+I'm proud of my Dutch fore-fathers."</p>
+
+<p>It was clear that Brockman, if not himself a Dutchman, was of Dutch
+descent.</p>
+
+<p>"The Dutch," continued Zuker, "then fell down the Medway&mdash;see, in this
+direction." His finger again went to work over the chart. "They sailed
+next to Portsmouth; they assaulted Harwich, and then sailed again up the
+Thames as far as Tilbury&mdash;this point here&mdash;where they were repulsed.
+What has been done once can be done again. Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>Zuker, in his excitement, strode over in the direction of the curtain.
+Paul drew back and waited. Had he seen the curtain move? Did he suspect
+there was a listener behind? For a moment Paul scarcely breathed. Then
+he heard Zuker pacing back to the table, and breathed freely again.</p>
+
+<p>"You forget the difference in the times," answered Brockman. "Then there
+were no ironclads."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm forgetting nothing. Ironclads are useless without the brains behind
+them. Battles nowadays are won not so much on the battlefield as by the
+Intelligence Department&mdash;the Secret Service"&mdash;his voice went almost to a
+whisper&mdash;"the service to which you and I belong."</p>
+
+<p>A cold feeling of horror and repulsion stole over Paul as he listened.
+He felt as he might have felt in listening to the rattle of a deadly
+snake. These men were in the Secret Service of another country&mdash;spies,
+collecting material for the enemy&mdash;material which might be used at any
+time with deadly effect against England, dear old England! And as he
+looked, a mist seemed to rise before him, and suddenly out of the mist
+he saw a strange picture&mdash;the cabin of a ship, a man bending over a
+dispatch-box, and rapidly turning over the papers within. Then the door
+of the cabin opened. An officer, with a bronzed, noble face swiftly
+entered, and seized the spy at the dispatch-box. The spy threw himself
+at the officer's feet and pleaded for mercy. Paul saw it all as clearly
+as though it were on a screen before him. Looking at the spy's face, he
+knew it for Zuker. Looking at the officer's face, he knew it for his
+father's.</p>
+
+<p>As the scene faded, he felt that he, too, must spring out on Zuker and
+denounce him. "Spy&mdash;traitor! You're the man who tried to betray my
+father! You are the man who would betray Britain!" By some impulse over
+which he had no control he tried to shriek out the words. His lips
+moved, but fortunately no sound came from them.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant he was brought to his senses by the sound of
+footsteps&mdash;footsteps in the tunnel by which he had entered. Instantly he
+realized the position in which he stood. The new-comer, whoever he was,
+was probably a confederate of the two spies inside, and would be bound
+to pass into the cave through the curtain behind which he was hidden.
+Quick as thought he retreated a pace or two, well out of the light of
+the lamps, and drew himself close up to the wall.</p>
+
+<p>Nearer and nearer came the footsteps. Presently Paul could just see the
+shadowy outline of a man's figure. Then he passed him, coming so close
+that his coat brushed against him. The figure paused. Paul held his
+breath, and for one brief instant thought that he had been discovered.
+The next, the curtain was lifted aside, and the new-comer passed inside
+the cave.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Weevil! What news?" came the voice of Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>Weevil! Paul crept again to the curtain, and peered through the side. It
+was the master, sure enough. He wore a cape, with the collar turned up
+and buttoned tight round the chin.</p>
+
+<p>"Still the same," answered the master.</p>
+
+<p>"No change?"</p>
+
+<p>"No change to speak of. Sometimes he's a little better; then he goes
+back again, and is worse. Poor little chap! it makes my heart bleed to
+see him."</p>
+
+<p>Then Paul knew they were speaking of Hibbert.</p>
+
+<p>"Your heart! What of mine?" exclaimed the man fiercely. "You always
+speak as though you were the only one who cared for the boy. And a lot
+of good you've done for him. It was through you I had him trained as an
+English boy. His mother was English, said you. It was through you he
+went to Garside, because you could take greater care of him, said you.
+What care? Himmel, himmel! You let those imps of Satan torture him;
+through you he has been brought to the door of death."</p>
+
+<p>"Cease, man&mdash;cease to torture me!" cried the master.</p>
+
+<p>Paul listened in wonder, not unmixed with awe. He had heard that note of
+anguish in the master's voice before&mdash;on that night when he had seen him
+by Hibbert's bed; but the face, with the light of the lamp flickering on
+it, might have been hewn from the limestone. It was as stern and rigid
+as Fate itself.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no wish to torture you; but it sickens me to hear you speak
+about that boy as though it were no concern of mine&mdash;as though you were
+the only one who cared for him. I tell you again, I was a fool to let
+him go to Garside."</p>
+
+<p>No answer came for a few moments. It seemed as though Mr. Weevil were
+struggling with his feelings. When he at length spoke, his voice was
+calm again. It had resumed that calm, deliberate tone with which Paul
+was so familiar.</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to speak to you for a few minutes alone, Israel."</p>
+
+<p>Brockman took the hint, and retreating at the other entrance of the
+cave, left the two together.</p>
+
+<p>"I wished to speak with you alone, because I have discovered one or two
+matters which will interest you. You were struck, you may remember, with
+the name of the boy who saved Tim's life?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; what of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You thought that he might be the son of that Captain Percival who years
+ago saved your life at the risk of his own. I knew that the boy's father
+was dead, and on examination of the school-books, I found that he was a
+naval officer. I was not aware of the circumstances under which he met
+his death, however. I have since discovered that he was drowned at sea
+'whilst trying to save the life of a spy'&mdash;pardon me the word, but so
+the record runs."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ach!</i> Is it possible?" came hoarsely from Zuker's lips. "I had my
+suspicions when I first questioned him."</p>
+
+<p>Paul pressed his ear closer to the side of the curtain. He was anxious
+not to lose a word of what was spoken, for he knew that he was "the boy"
+to whom the master was referring; that "Tim" was, of course, Hibbert.</p>
+
+<p>"I have discovered, further, that it was this same boy&mdash;Paul
+Percival&mdash;who got through with that letter to Redmead."</p>
+
+<p>"The same? Ach Himmel! I caught but a glimpse of him in the darkness
+that night."</p>
+
+<p>"The hand of a Higher than man is in it. You cannot escape it. Be warned
+in time. Give up this scheme of yours; if not for your own sake, for the
+sake of your son."</p>
+
+<p>"Give up the scheme&mdash;the scheme for which I have worked so long. The
+scheme which, day by day, brings me nearer to fame and fortune. You talk
+like a madman. It is more to me than life itself&mdash;more to me than the
+life of fifty sons!"</p>
+
+<p>A cry of pain came from Mr. Weevil's lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I know you well enough&mdash;you have no love for my scheme. Your heart is
+in what you call science, and in the boy. You wish to frighten
+me&mdash;frighten me from the work which every day draws nearer to success.
+Shall I tell you what for? So as to drive me back to the Fatherland that
+you may keep all to yourself, my boy&mdash;the boy of your dead sister. Ach!
+I see through your scheming!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, man&mdash;hush! Is it to hear reproaches from your lips that I have
+risked so much&mdash;that I have involved myself in these schemes of yours
+which may mean my ruin?" Mr. Weevil's voice was stern, fearless; but as
+quickly turned to a softer key. "Let us not quarrel, Israel. Heaven
+forbid that we should quarrel over the boy whom we both love in our own
+peculiar way. Remember that his life is still in jeopardy."</p>
+
+<p>They shook hands, and then Mr. Weevil turned towards the curtain behind
+which Paul was hidden.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LETTERS AT THE TUCK-SHOP</h3>
+
+
+<p>This time Paul did not move&mdash;he could not. He was as one rooted to the
+spot. Fortunately, Mr. Weevil did not come to that side of the curtain
+where he was crouching, but passed through on the other side. It was not
+till he had hastened past Paul that the power of movement returned to
+his limbs. To remain there longer was useless. He had heard enough&mdash;more
+than enough. But he was unable to think clearly in that tunnel. The air
+seemed to stifle him; he must get outside.</p>
+
+<p>So he followed in the master's footsteps, taking care, however, to keep
+a good distance between them. At length he reached the entrance. He
+waited a minute or two, then cautiously lifted the circular piece of
+wood that covered the entrance, and made his way through the undergrowth
+to the open.</p>
+
+<p>By that time Mr. Weevil had disappeared from view.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I awake or dreaming?" Paul asked himself, as he drew a deep breath
+of relief.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed, indeed, like a dream&mdash;or, rather, a nightmare&mdash;that cave, the
+two conspirators, the conversation he had overheard about the taking of
+Sheerness by the Dutch, the advance on Upnor Castle, and, lastly, the
+appearance on the scene of Mr. Weevil.</p>
+
+<p>What was he to do? How was he to act? He was face to face with the same
+dilemma that had confronted him when Hibbert had confessed to him his
+relationship to Zuker. The more he thought of it, the more difficult it
+seemed to move. He was bound hand and foot by the promise he had made
+to Hibbert. How could he be false to that promise&mdash;how could he give
+information which might cause his death?</p>
+
+<p>Strange to say, his confidence in Mr. Weevil had grown by what he had
+overheard at that interview. It was true enough that the master seemed
+involved in some way in the schemes of Zuker, but it seemed equally
+certain that he was against them. The words he had overheard were still
+ringing in his ears: "You wish to drive me back to the Fatherland, and
+keep all to yourself, my boy&mdash;the boy of your dead sister!" Things
+seemed clearer to Paul. The master's purpose seemed clearer. It was his
+love for his nephew&mdash;for Hibbert&mdash;which had involved him in the schemes
+of Zuker. Paul had disliked and suspected Mr. Weevil, but, curiously
+enough, he now seemed to understand better than ever he had understood
+before, and that understanding was to the advantage rather than the
+disadvantage of the master.</p>
+
+<p>"The hand of a Higher than man is in it." Those were the master's words.
+They had been spoken from his heart; there was no doubt of that. Though
+they had failed to move Zuker, they had moved Paul strangely. Yes; the
+hand of a Higher than man was in it, and the designs of Zuker would
+certainly be overturned.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish Mr. Moncrief had answered my letter, though," he said to
+himself, as he returned to the school. It must have miscarried. He
+determined to question Hibbert about it again that very evening.</p>
+
+<p>So when the evening came he went to the sick-room, and the nurse, who
+was now in attendance, gladly vacated her place at the bedside to him.
+As usual, Hibbert had been looking forward to Paul's visit, and the thin
+white face was at once all sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm feeling ever so much better," he said, in answer to Paul's
+inquiries. "I'm feeling quite strong. I shall soon be out again if I go
+on like this. Do you think the fellows will be pleased to see me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course they will!"</p>
+
+<p>"I was never very popular, you see," Hibbert went on thoughtfully. "It
+was all my fault. I never took any interest in the sports. I mean to be
+different when I get off this wretched bed&mdash;turn over a new leaf; go in
+for footer, cricket, and that sort of thing. I don't see why I shouldn't
+do as well as the rest of them, do you, Percival?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why," answered Paul cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"And there's a lot of other things I mean to do. Do you know, I've been
+thinking over so much to-day about our being at the same school&mdash;how
+wonderful it all is that you and I should be at Garside. And when I get
+out again, do you know what I mean to do?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul shook his head. He was looking at the face, which seemed to grow
+smaller and smaller, and wondering whether Hibbert would get out again.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean to do my best to pay on that debt my father owed your
+father&mdash;the debt that never has been paid. That'll be something to live
+for and work for, and God helping me, I'll do it&mdash;do it! Don't say that
+you don't wish it&mdash;that you don't want it."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not," answered Paul, very softly, falling in with his mood.
+"You shall do as you think best when you get out again."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence between them for a few moments. Hibbert lay with his
+hands crossed on his breast and his eyes upturned to the ceiling.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you been doing this afternoon, Percival?" he suddenly asked,
+as his eyes went back again to Paul's face.</p>
+
+<p>The question took Paul by surprise. How could he tell Hibbert what he
+had been doing that afternoon&mdash;the discovery he had made, what he had
+seen and what he had heard in the cave?</p>
+
+<p>"Doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Half-holiday, wasn't it? I still keep count of holidays, you see."</p>
+
+<p>Hibbert smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I went for a walk!"</p>
+
+<p>"By yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"By myself." Paul could see that the boy's eyes were scanning his face
+curiously, so he added quickly: "I'm rather fond of walking by myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you heard anything about the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"How did you come to know that it was gone?" Paul asked, astonished, for
+he had thought it better not to trouble him with the information.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mrs. Trounce told me. I get her to tell me any special news. I like
+to know what's going on in the school. Matron's a good sort. It was a
+beastly shame to take the flag, whoever did it. Have they got any clue?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet."</p>
+
+<p>"I expect the Beetles had a hand in it. What do you think?"</p>
+
+<p>"I scarcely know what to think. It's a mystery. You haven't been
+climbing to the turret in your sleep, and hauling the flag down just for
+the fun of the thing, have you?"</p>
+
+<p>The idea quite tickled Hibbert, for he laughed outright.</p>
+
+<p>"By the by," said Paul, turning the conversation to the purpose for
+which he had come to that room, "you recollect that letter I gave you to
+post a few weeks back?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"You're quite certain you posted it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite certain. I think that I said so at the time."</p>
+
+<p>Paul noticed that though Hibbert was quite certain that he had posted
+the letter he spoke with some hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; you said so at the time&mdash;that's quite right. But I was
+wondering whether by any chance you might have given it to some other
+boy to post."</p>
+
+<p>"No; I put it in the letter-box with my own hands." Hibbert again
+hesitated for a moment, then added; "Something did happen, but I did not
+think it worth while to worry you about it."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it?" Paul asked eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"I was blockhead enough to run full tilt against Mr. Weevil when I got
+outside, and&mdash;and he caught sight of your letter."</p>
+
+<p>"Caught sight of my letter! And what did he do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Made me go to his room. He asked me who sent me with the letter, and I
+was obliged to tell him. It didn't matter, did it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It didn't matter," repeated Paul, his throat suddenly becoming parched.
+"Well, well, what happened then?"</p>
+
+<p>"He took the letter to his room, but came back with it in a minute or so
+and handed it back to me. He said that you had broken the rules of the
+school in sending off a letter without the knowledge of the masters, but
+he would overlook the offence, for&mdash;for my sake. That's the reason I
+didn't make a fuss about it to you."</p>
+
+<p>"He said that&mdash;Mr. Weevil said that? And he gave you back my letter?
+You're quite certain it was the same?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, quite certain! I thought perhaps he might have opened it, as he
+said he had a right to, so I looked at it to make sure it was the same.
+It was the same&mdash;in your handwriting. I could tell that anywhere. But
+what makes you ask? Has it miscarried?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not. I haven't had an answer yet&mdash;that's all. I dare say I shall
+get one presently, so don't you worry about it."</p>
+
+<p>To prevent him doing so, Paul turned the conversation again to other
+matters, and then went out. The information Paul had given him about the
+letter set him thinking. What had the master done with his letter in the
+few brief moments he had had it in his possession away from Hibbert? Had
+he opened it and read it? If so, was the letter he had handed back to
+Hibbert to post the same letter that he&mdash;Paul&mdash;had written? to Mr.
+Moncrief? Hibbert was sure that it was&mdash;sure that it was in his
+handwriting. In any case, a letter had been posted to Mr. Moncrief. What
+letter was it?</p>
+
+<p>In this state of perplexity, Paul determined to write briefly to Mr.
+Moncrief again. That was the only way in which all doubt could be ended.</p>
+
+<p>So he wrote a note stating that he had written a letter of some
+importance a few weeks since, and wishing to know as soon as possible
+whether or not it had been received. This letter he directed the same as
+before&mdash;"W. Moncrief, Esq., Redmead, Oakville, Kent." He determined that
+this time he would post the letter himself; so the next day, watching
+his opportunity, he slipped from the grounds, and posted it at the
+village post-office.</p>
+
+<p>"It can't go wrong now," he said to himself, as he retraced his
+footsteps.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Plunger and Moncrief minor were thrown into a state of great
+excitement by finding letters awaiting them at the adjacent tuck-shop.
+Plunger tore the envelope open.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately he drew out the letter and glanced at it he groaned. His
+groan was echoed by Harry. On the top of Plunger's letter was a
+rudely-designed facsimile of a cockroach. On the top of Harry's letter
+was a similarly grotesque design.</p>
+
+<p>Beneath it, in scarcely less grotesque handwriting, as though one of the
+legs of the cockroach had been dipped in ink and made to trace words
+upon the paper, was the following:</p>
+
+<p>"Brother of the Mystic Order,&mdash;Greeting from the Brethren. Meeting
+to-morrow afternoon at headquarters. Time, half-past three sharp. Be not
+absent at thy peril."</p>
+
+<p>Then followed the lines which Plunger so well remembered&mdash;the words
+which had formed part of the incantation of the "Mystic Circle:"</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rest not, pause not, hither crawl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or to the realms of Creepy-crawly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shivery-shaky, we will haul thee."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Plunger groaned again. Harry again echoed it.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you making that row for, you little ass?" cried Plunger
+testily.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought I'd cheer you up a bit. You look just awful, Plunger!"</p>
+
+<p>"You look worse than that! Ever seen a petrified mummy? No? Well, just
+look at yourself in the glass, then! What's your letter about?"</p>
+
+<p>They exchanged letters, and found that they were in precisely the same
+terms&mdash;that both were summonses for them to appear before "the Mystic
+Order" at the same date and hour.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>"FORGIVE, AND YE SHALL BE FORGIVEN"</h3>
+
+
+<p>The two boys looked at each other blankly. How were they to act? What
+was to be done? If they refused to obey the summons from the "Mystic
+Brethren," they knew not what would be the penalty. The more they looked
+at the letters, with their grotesque design, the more imposing they
+seemed.</p>
+
+<p>"What's to be done, Freddy?" asked Harry, when they were outside the
+shop.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have to go, I suppose!" answered Plunger despondently. "We've
+given ourselves away, you see. We're one of them&mdash;one of the wretched
+Beetles. We've taken the vow of allegiance. They've got us in a tight
+corner."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the 'realms of Creepy-crawly, Shivery-shaky' I wonder?" asked
+Harry, in an equally dejected tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Some ditch with plenty of toads and slime about it, I expect. You
+needn't be anxious. We'll know soon enough!" groaned Plunger. "I wish to
+goodness you'd been anywhere before you let me in for this mess! Why did
+they ever let you loose from Gaffer Quelch's?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shut up, Plunger! You're tiring! After all, you wouldn't make such
+a bad Beetle. You can crawl a lot better than you can punt, and&mdash;&mdash;Oh,
+oh!"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger had caught him by the ear and given it a vigorous pull. Harry
+returned it by kicking Plunger on the shins. Having thus equalised
+matters, they became once more on friendly terms.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Harry, we're both in the same boat. Supposing we don't go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then what'll happen?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. We shall have to chance that. They can't eat us."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I'm not afraid! It's not that; but&mdash;but I don't somehow like
+breaking my word."</p>
+
+<p>"Neither do I. It's jolly awkward; yet, come to think of it, I don't see
+why we shouldn't."</p>
+
+<p>"We promised to be true to the cause."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but the promise was got from us by force, and that isn't binding.
+I've heard my pater say so."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he's in the glue line, and ought to know what's binding! Stop it,
+Plunger!"&mdash;as Plunger seized him once more by the ear. "That's the worst
+of you. You don't know a compliment when you hear one. Don't I wish my
+pater was in the glue line! It's fine stuff. Made out of horses' hoofs,
+isn't it? Well, go on. Not binding, you said. How do you make that out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't I said, stupid&mdash;because it was got from us by force? But don't
+take my word for it. Let's ask your cousin. Will that satisfy you?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry at once consented. He still had the highest admiration for his
+cousin, notwithstanding the fact that he had been defeated by a Beetle.
+They returned to the school, where they were not long in finding
+Stanley, who had just been joined by Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"We want to talk with you alone, if&mdash;if you wouldn't mind, Stan," said
+Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't think that I'm going to clear out for any of you Lower Form
+cubs, do you?" sneered Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you can speak before Newall as you would before me, Harry! Come,
+fire away!"</p>
+
+<p>Harry still hesitated. He could not forget how Newall had served him
+when he first came there, but while he was hesitating Plunger began:</p>
+
+<p>"This is what we want to know. Supposing any fellows in this school&mdash;we
+won't mention names&mdash;happened to be captured by the enemy, and supposing
+the enemy forced them into a&mdash;a&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Secret society," put in Harry, as Plunger came to a standstill.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, secret society. A kind of brotherhood&mdash;vendetta, with masks and
+knives and forks&mdash;daggers, I mean&mdash;and that sort of thing&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, look here, Master Plunger, stop plunging! Drop it, and come to the
+point!" said Stanley firmly. "What do you want to know? Come, Harry;
+you're not so gassy. Perhaps we can get some sense out of you."</p>
+
+<p>Harry explained as well as he was able what they wanted to know. Stanley
+at once decided that a promise given under such circumstances was not
+binding, and his opinion was, of course, backed up by Newall, who was
+eager to know what this mystery could mean. Thus assured, Plunger and
+Harry told them all that had happened on the afternoon they had been
+captured by the "Mystic Brethren." As may be imagined, Stanley and
+Newall were greatly excited by the story&mdash;especially that portion of it
+referring to Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Now are you satisfied?" cried Newall triumphantly. "Didn't I always say
+what Percival was? He's not only a cur, but a traitor!"</p>
+
+<p>And Stanley, who in days gone by would have fiercely resented the
+slightest reflection on Paul, allowed the words to go unchallenged.</p>
+
+<p>"You're quite certain that it was Percival you saw?" he at length asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I certain that I see you?" answered Plunger. "Besides, Harry saw
+him, too. Both of us couldn't be mistaken."</p>
+
+<p>"There wasn't much mistake, Stan. I wish there had been. That makes the
+second time I've seen them together."</p>
+
+<p>"If you don't believe us, you'd better put to him the question straight.
+Send for him now, and put him face to face with us. See if he'll deny it
+then!"</p>
+
+<p>"I think you're right, Plunger. We'll send for Percival, and see what he
+has to say. You go and fetch him, Harry. You'll find him somewhere about
+the grounds.</p>
+
+<p>"One moment. Don't be in a hurry. We've got an artful young gentleman to
+deal with, and if we want to find things out, and pay back the Bedes in
+their own coin, we shall have to be artful as well. We mustn't show our
+hand too soon."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite understand."</p>
+
+<p>"No; but I'll make all clear in a word or two. If we call in Percival,
+we shall not get much from him. It isn't likely he'll give himself away.
+He'll say that Plunger was mistaken; that it wasn't him, but somebody
+else who was talking to the fellow up at Bedes. What we've got to do is
+to meet craft with craft, and go one better than Percival at his own
+game."</p>
+
+<p>"Hear, hear!" cried Plunger. "But how are you going to do it? Strikes me
+you'll have to get up very early in the morning to score off Percival."</p>
+
+<p>"We sha'n't score if you keep that noisy tongue of yours wagging, Mr.
+Plunger. All you've got to do is to keep quiet till to-morrow evening,
+and then you can let it wag again as much as you please. My scheme is
+this: We've first got to make good your word about the flag. If we can
+get it from that shed in which you say it is, we can prove that you
+haven't been dreaming. With the flag in our possession, we'll call a
+meeting of the principal fellows from each Form down to the Third. You
+and Moncrief minor can tell the story. Percival can then say what he
+pleases. We can produce the flag to prove our case&mdash;and&mdash;there you are!
+Percival will be kicked out of Garside!"</p>
+
+<p>Stanley did not speak. The chasm between him and Percival had gone on
+widening instead of narrowing, but it was no pleasure to him to hear
+those words. Percival kicked from Garside! Then Garside would no longer
+be Garside to him. Harry, too, was silent. He did not know why, but he
+began to think they were not doing the right thing by Percival. They
+were trying to trap him, and the one setting that trap was the one who
+hated him.</p>
+
+<p>"A jolly good idea, Newall!" exclaimed Plunger enthusiastically.
+"Smart&mdash;real smart! But how are you going to work it? How are you going
+to get the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow's Wednesday; so we've got the whole of the afternoon before
+us. You're supposed to meet the Beetles at half-past three, aren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; half-past three sharp."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll be beforehand&mdash;half an hour, say. That will give us plenty
+of time to get possession of the flag, and away with it before your
+brethren of the Mystic Circle put in an appearance."</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you won't want me?" asked Plunger anxiously. He had a keen
+recollection of what had happened at the shed the last time he was
+there.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we shall. You'll have to take us to the shed and show us
+what's inside it."</p>
+
+<p>Plunger did not like this suggestion. Why couldn't Newall have selected
+Moncrief minor? But he could not very well raise any objection. So,
+making a virtue of necessity, he raised his eyebrows to their fullest
+extent, and said he should be "delighted."</p>
+
+<p>Then came the question as to who should go with Plunger. It was not
+advisable to take too many, for fear of the risk of discovery. So Newall
+decided that only three should accompany Plunger&mdash;Stanley, Parfitt, and
+himself. Stanley would gladly have given way to anybody else, but Newall
+insisted that he should be one of the party. He seemed determined to
+leave no stone unturned to blacken Paul in the eyes of his one-time
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley crept away as soon as he could to the solitude of his dormitory.</p>
+
+<p>He was very wretched. He felt as though he were acting a mean part. It
+might be true that Paul was not the friend to him that he had at one
+time been&mdash;that he had gone over to the Bedes, and acted a mean part;
+but that was no reason why he should act a mean part, too. Two blacks
+did not make a white. "Percival will be kicked out of Garside!" Newall's
+words kept repeating themselves in his brain. He could not forget them.
+Percival would be kicked out of Garside, and he would be one of those
+who had helped to kick him out.</p>
+
+<p>No, no; whatever wrong Paul had done him, he could not do that. But how
+could he prevent it? How could he put him on his guard? He thought for a
+long time; then he got a half-sheet of notepaper, and wrote on it in a
+disguised hand:</p>
+
+<p>"Beware! Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn you from Garside."</p>
+
+<p>The next difficulty to get over was&mdash;how to get that note to Paul
+without rousing suspicion. It must be read by him, and him alone. He was
+a long time before he could think of any means of accomplishing this
+purpose; then he remembered that Paul was in the habit of reading a few
+verses every night before going to rest from a Bible given to him by his
+mother. He went to Paul's dormitory&mdash;the dormitory in which he had once
+slept, and to which he had often longed to get back.</p>
+
+<p>Glancing cautiously in, he found that it was empty. He crept softly to
+Paul's locker, and drew out his Bible. There was a bookmark in it. He
+opened it at the bookmark. The first words that met his eyes were:</p>
+
+<p>"Judge not, and ye shall not ye judged; condemn not, and ye shall not be
+condemned; forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.... With the same measure
+that ye mete, withal it shall be measured to you again."</p>
+
+<p>Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven! The words seemed in a mist before
+Stanley's eyes. Pshaw! What had he to do with forgiveness?</p>
+
+<p>His eyes went again to the Bible:</p>
+
+<p>"With the same measure that ye mete, withal it shall be measured to you
+again."</p>
+
+<p>He read the words thrice, then placed the note inside the Bible and
+closed it.</p>
+
+<p>"He's sure to see it, I should think, and won't suspect who put it
+there," he told himself, as he stepped softly to the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had he reached it when he heard a footstep coming along it.</p>
+
+<p>Looking in the direction whence it came, he saw that it was he of whom
+he had been thinking&mdash;Paul Percival!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MISSING FLAG</h3>
+
+
+<p>Stanley did not wish to meet Paul. He might suspect his purpose in being
+there. There was no possibility of turning away, however, so he kept
+straight on, keeping as close to the wall as possible. Paul's head was
+bent to the ground. He seemed absorbed in thought, and passed by Stanley
+as though he had not seen him.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think he saw me," Stanley told himself. "He looked a bit
+worried, and I don't wonder at it. He can't have a very pleasant time of
+it."</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Stanley felt inclined to turn back. "Forgive and ye shall
+be forgiven." Still the words he had just read were repeating
+themselves. Paul and he had not spoken for so long. A few words might
+clear up everything. Clear up everything? No. How was it possible to
+clear up that scene in the sand-pits? So Stanley's heart hardened again,
+and he went on.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Paul entered the dormitory, and drew from his pocket a note he
+had just found awaiting him at the porter's lodge. He had read it twice
+before, but he could not help reading it again.</p>
+
+<p>"Meet me to-morrow (Wednesday), half-past two, at old elm, near
+sand-pits. Be sure and come. Very important."</p>
+
+<p>This note was scribbled in pencil, and unsigned, but Paul knew the
+writing well enough. It was Wyndham's. What was it Wyndham wanted with
+him? What was it that was so important? Had he gained any information as
+to the missing flag? He was thinking over this note when he passed by
+Stanley, and it was this which had given to him that "worried"
+appearance that Stanley had noticed in his face.</p>
+
+<p>He sat for some time musing over this letter, and then, to get away from
+it, drew from the locker his Bible. It opened, of course, at the place
+in which Stanley had placed his note. Paul unfolded and read it, with no
+small astonishment: "Beware! Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn
+you from Garside."</p>
+
+<p>Plot on foot to turn him from Garside! What could the plot be? This note
+was more puzzling than the other. Like that, too, it was unsigned; but
+this time Paul was beaten. The writing was unknown to him. He could not
+guess the writer, but he could see plainly enough that it was in a
+disguised hand.</p>
+
+<p>Then he suddenly realized that the two notes clashed. The one was an
+invitation to meet a Bede; the other warned him to steer clear of Bedes.
+If he obeyed the one, he would have to disregard the other. What was he
+to do? He did not hesitate long. Wyndham he knew. His friendship had
+been proved. He knew nothing of this anonymous writer&mdash;the writer who
+professed to warn him of a hidden danger, but did so in a disguised
+hand, and had not the courage to put to it his name. He would keep the
+appointment with Wyndham, whatever happened.</p>
+
+<p>So the next day, as soon as the clock had struck two, and he was free,
+Paul started off for the old elm, near the sand-pits. Punctual though he
+was, Wyndham was awaiting him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so glad you've come, Percival," he said, as he came towards him and
+shook him warmly by the hand. "I've splendid news to tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"The flag?" exclaimed Paul, speaking the thought that was uppermost in
+his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"You've made a very good guess. Yes, the flag. I've got some very good
+news about it&mdash;very good news indeed. In fact, I rather fancy I know
+where it is."</p>
+
+<p>"Where&mdash;where? Can we make for it?" exclaimed Paul, excited at the news.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a bit. Don't be in such a steaming hurry!" smiled Wyndham. "Before
+I say a word more, I must ask you not to make use of the information I'm
+going to give you against any of our fellows at Bede's."</p>
+
+<p>Paul readily consented. To get possession of the flag was the chief
+thing he cared for. That accomplished, he could afford to be
+magnanimous.</p>
+
+<p>"From the first I suspected that one of our fellows had a hand in it,"
+went on Wyndham. "You remember that day when you were set upon by a
+dozen or so of the sweet cherubs from Bede's?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only too well."</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to stir up painful memories. There was one amongst the number
+said to belong to the amphibia. Do you recollect that, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do!" laughed Paul. "Mellor, you mean&mdash;once a Gargoyle, now
+a distinguished Beetle? Recollect it? Who could forget it? It labelled
+him to a T. You don't mean to say&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do," smiled Wyndham. "He and another Beetle, whose name I
+needn't mention, captured the flag between them. It was a plucky thing
+to do, and when I found out what had happened, I don't think I should
+have troubled any more about it, only I remembered that there was a
+fellow at Garside who was standing alone, fighting against the wall."</p>
+
+<p>"Wyndham!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't interrupt. This fellow was rather anxious to get hold of the
+missing flag; and so, out of respect for him, and not for any of the
+mean cads who hail from the same place, I persuaded Mellor &amp; Co. to hand
+it over. It was not easy work, I can tell you. They felt that I was
+robbing them of their rightful prey. But at last they came round,
+and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You got possession of the flag!" cried Paul. "How splendid of you,
+Wyndham! Instead of getting out of debt, I get deeper and deeper into
+it. But where is the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you guess?" smiled Wyndham.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess?" repeated Paul, puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I've done my part; that's your part," answered Wyndham, enjoying
+his mystification. "S'posing we go for the old game&mdash;'Hot boiled beans
+and very good butter'? Hallo!" The smile died from his face as his
+glance went to the roadway. "Here are some of your lot! They haven't got
+wind of our meeting, have they?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul glanced in the direction of the roadway. Sure enough, there were
+four Garsiders coming along the road&mdash;Newall, Parfitt, Plunger, and
+Stanley. As his glance went to the road Parfitt caught sight of him;
+then all four stopped and glanced in the direction where Paul and
+Wyndham were standing. An animated conversation took place for a minute.
+It seemed as though they were undecided how to act. Then they came to a
+decision, and walked quickly on.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not sorry they didn't come, though I should have been pleased
+enough to meet them at any other time," said Wyndham contemptuously.
+"Let's get on with our game. Now, then, are you ready? 'Hot boiled
+beans, very good butter; ladies and gentlemen, come to supper.' At
+present you're frightfully cold, freezing, perfect icicle."</p>
+
+<p>He rubbed his hands together, and flung them across his chest, and blew
+upon his fingers as though he were suffering from the same complaint;
+and then he laughed again at Paul's mystified expression as he gazed
+round. There was no sign of the flag. At length Paul's glance rested
+upon the decayed old elm-tree, near which they were standing.</p>
+
+<p>"You're getting warmer," smiled Wyndham. Then, as Paul walked towards
+the tree: "In fact, quite hot."</p>
+
+<p>Paul put his hand into the hollow of the tree, and drew out the missing
+flag, wrapped in a covering of American leather-cloth, just as it had
+been when Mellor and Crick had taken it to St. Bede's.</p>
+
+<p>"What can I say, Wyndham?" he asked, in a thick voice as he stood there,
+with the prize in his hand. For the moment there seemed to be a mist
+before his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Say? Nothing, of course! All you've got to do is to get back to Garside
+as soon as you can, for I shouldn't be surprised if those fellows we saw
+just now mean mischief."</p>
+
+<p>The anonymous letter flashed into Paul's mind as Wyndham spoke&mdash;"Beware!
+Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn you from Garside."</p>
+
+<p>Could it be that the four he had seen were concerned in that plot? It
+was quite possible to believe it of Newall and Parfitt&mdash;they had always
+been his enemies&mdash;but Stanley&mdash;No, he could not believe it of him.
+However, he scarcely cared what happened to him now he had gained
+possession of the flag. He would be able to redeem his promise. The main
+thing was to get it back to its old place on the turret.</p>
+
+<p>So he took Wyndham's advice, and started back to the college without
+further delay.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the three who had started from Garside, under the guidance of
+Plunger, for the purpose of capturing the flag on their own account, had
+passed Wyndham and Paul, as we have seen, on the way. They little
+suspected the purpose of that meeting. They never imagined that it had
+anything to do with the flag.</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt, the first to catch sight of the two, gloated over the
+discovery. Stanley's heart fell. He now saw with his own eyes that Paul
+was really on friendly terms with Wyndham. He had taken no heed of his
+note of warning. He had treated it with scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"He's playing a deep game," said Parfitt. "I believe he means turning
+over Garside for Bede's, like Mellor did."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe so, too; but he can't do it before next term, and we must get
+our blow in before then. It all depends on getting hold of that flag.
+Now, then, Plunger, buck up!"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger increased his pace, and it was not long before he reached the
+shed in which he and Moncrief minor had been initiated into the "Noble
+Order of Beetles." They reached it, as arranged, fully half an hour
+before the time appointed for Plunger to meet "the mystic brethren." So,
+as they hoped and expected, they found it empty.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Plunger, where do you say the flag is? Quick! We've got no time to
+lose!" said Newall.</p>
+
+<p>Plunger did not answer. He stood dumfounded. There was the place where
+he had been initiated into the "mystic brotherhood." There was the place
+where he had stood and looked up at the "mystic emblem," and had
+discovered to his amazement that it was the missing school flag. He
+rubbed his eyes then; he rubbed them now. The flag had gone! Gone! Had
+it ever been there? Was that scene, after all, as it had more than once
+seemed, only a dream?</p>
+
+<p>"Wake up, sleepy!" cried Newall, kicking him on the shins to rouse him.
+"Where's the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was there, just over my head," answered Plunger, pointing to the
+roof above him; "but it isn't there now."</p>
+
+<p>They searched the shed, but could find no trace of the missing flag.
+There was a large box in which it might be hidden, but that was locked,
+and there was no time to force it.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not making fun of us, Plunger, are you?" demanded Newall,
+clutching him fiercely by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, I'm not."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, look here, you'll have to meet these fellows again, just as
+though you'd turned up in answer to their note, and see if you can worm
+out anything about the flag. If we're seen here it'll spoil the game.
+But we won't be far off. If you want any help, yell out, and we'll see
+what we can do for you. Do you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger understood perfectly, but, all the same, he did not like the
+prospect of meeting the brethren of the mystic order again. However,
+there was nothing for it but to give in, so he gave in with as good
+grace as possible.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2>
+
+<h3>HOW THE FLAG FOUND ITS WAY BACK TO THE TURRET</h3>
+
+
+<p>Paul got safely back to Garside with his prize. He mounted with it to
+his dormitory and undid the covering in which it was encased. Yes, there
+was the old flag, none the worse for its temporary absence from the
+school. Paul's heart beat the quicker. He was as proud of the flag as
+any boy at Garside, and as he looked at it he realized in some degree
+the feelings of a soldier when he has recaptured the colours from the
+enemy.</p>
+
+<p>Folding it up again, he hid it under one of the cubicles, and went in
+search of the boys who had been with him in the dormitory when the loss
+of the flag was first discovered.</p>
+
+<p>He was not long in finding Moncrief minor, who was wandering about the
+ground like a lost spirit. He was unhappy at the absence of his
+companion in mischief, the redoubtable Plunger. He began to think that
+he had been left out in the cold. What a hero Plunger would be if,
+through him, the flag were brought back again to the school!</p>
+
+<p>As he was thus thinking he saw Paul coming towards him. He quickly
+turned his head and walked off as though he had not seen him, but Paul
+came up with him in a stride or two, and, clutching him by the arm,
+twisted him round till he was in front of him.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't run away, Harry. I want you to do me a favour."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Harry, reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You remember that afternoon when the flag was lost?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry looked up quickly. What was coming out about the flag now? Ha, ha,
+he guessed what it was! Percival had begun to smell a rat. He meant
+trying to pump him, so he answered cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do, and so do most of the fellows here, I'm thinking. I
+wonder if we shall ever get it back again?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder. It was Viner who brought us the news, I remember, and besides
+yourself there were several other fellows in the dormitory at the
+time&mdash;Baldry, Plunger, Sedgefield, Bember. I want you to get together
+again the same fellows if you can, and bring them to my dorm. Would you
+mind doing that for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"What for?" was the curious answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'll explain what for when you're there. Will you do it?"</p>
+
+<p>Harry thought for a moment before answering. What was Percival's game?
+He was curious to know; but there couldn't be any harm in doing as he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't bring Plunger&mdash;he's got something special in hand, but I'll
+hunt up some of the others, and bring them along with me, if I can."</p>
+
+<p>So he ran off, and Paul returned to the dormitory. Half an hour elapsed
+before he heard the welcome sound of footsteps on the stairs. Harry had
+succeeded in capturing three out of the five, Sedgefield, Baldry, Viner.
+They were just as curious as Harry was to know what Paul could want with
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm much obliged to you for coming along," said Paul, "it's really very
+good of you, considering the dead-set against me. But I wanted to get
+together the fellows who were here when Viner brought up the bad news
+about the flag. I wish all six were here, but I must be satisfied with
+four out of them. At any rate, there's enough of you to remember what I
+said. I said, you'll remember, that through me the school had eaten
+dirt."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, we remember that well enough," said Viner bitterly, "because
+it was so true."</p>
+
+<p>"So true; yes, Viner. As your memory's so good on that point, perhaps
+you can remember what else was said?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do. We all do, for one or two of us have laughed over it
+since. You talked some nonsense about the school suffering through you,
+and through you being lifted up again."</p>
+
+<p>"And that you meant getting the flag back again, and putting it in its
+old place on the turret," added Sedgefield.</p>
+
+<p>"You're right, Viner, and so are you, Sedgefield. I'm glad you remember
+things so well. I made that promise, uncertain whether or not I should
+be able to carry it out, but determined to do my best. Well, by God's
+help, I'm able to keep my word."</p>
+
+<p>To the profound amazement of the boys, he drew out the flag.</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you find it? Where did you get it from?" cried Viner.</p>
+
+<p>Harry did not speak. He could only stare at the flag. Was it really the
+old flag? There could be little doubt about that. How, then, had
+Percival come by it? Had he stolen a march upon Plunger and the others?</p>
+
+<p>"Where did I get it from? Well, that's my secret for the present. I've
+got the flag, and kept my promise. Now I want you to mount with me to
+the turret, so that we can put it back again in its old resting-place."</p>
+
+<p>He waved the flag over his head, and Baldry and Sedgefield gave a cheer.
+Harry echoed the cheer in a dazed, bewildered fashion. He had not yet
+recovered from his surprise. Viner remained silent. They followed Paul
+to the turret, where once again the flag was placed on the summit with
+another cheer.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Plunger was inside the shed, awaiting with no small
+trepidation the arrival of the "Mystic Brethren." He had not long to
+wait before six of the masked brethren entered. The foremost of these
+was Mellor, followed by five of his companions. They had put on their
+masks outside the door, so that Plunger was just as much in the dark as
+to who they were as ever.</p>
+
+<p>"Gargoyle with the eyebrows, greeting!" exclaimed Mellor.</p>
+
+<p>"Greeting," repeated the other masks, bowing.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then, greet," came a peremptory cry, as Plunger received the point
+of two or three knees in different parts of his body, which sent him
+staggering round the circle. It revived painful memories of a similar
+performance on his part on a previous occasion, and he hastily stammered
+out, "Gr-gr-greeting," and jerked his head in imitation of the
+brethren.</p>
+
+<p>"We are glad thou hast obeyed the call; but where is thy brother
+novice&mdash;Henry Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>"He&mdash;he's otherwise&mdash;engaged," stammered Plunger, not knowing what to
+say.</p>
+
+<p>"Otherwise engaged! Know this, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch, no
+engagement should keep him from answering the call of the Mystic
+Brethren. It shall be inquired into."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, Plunger saw, with fear and trembling, that one of the
+number had drawn from the box the weapons he so well remembered&mdash;the
+sticks with bladders attached to the ends. He guessed what was coming,
+and it came.</p>
+
+<p>"Describe the Mystic Circle!" cried Mellor.</p>
+
+<p>It was useless resisting. Down flopped Plunger on his knees and hands,
+and crawled round the ring as quickly as possible three times, while the
+bladders showered upon his head with amazing rapidity. Then the brethren
+joined hands, and galloping wildly round him, repeated as before:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Beetles of the Mystic Band<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wind we round thee, hand in hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rest not, pause not, hither crawl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or to the realms of Creepy-crawly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shivery-shaky we will haul thee."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And once again, to the strains of this extraordinary incantation,
+Plunger was sent whirling about the ring from side to side, as though he
+were an indiarubber ball. The last time two of them&mdash;Harry and
+himself&mdash;divided honours; but this time Plunger had it all to himself.
+Owing to this fact the brethren were able to give him their sole and
+undivided attention, and they did it with such effect that Plunger began
+to wonder whether he was himself or someone else.</p>
+
+<p>"Dost thou like the Mystic Circle?" inquired Mellor, when they paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, y-y-yes," stammered Plunger, with a painful attempt to laugh, "very
+much." And then he added quickly, as he saw the uplifted bladders ready
+to descend: "But&mdash;but if you've got any more of it, you might keep it
+for my brother novice."</p>
+
+<p>"It shall be as thou askest, Gargoyle with the eyebrows," said Mellor.
+"And now to business."</p>
+
+<p>"To business? Do they call what I've just gone through pleasure?"
+thought Plunger, as he waited in fear and trembling what was to come
+next.</p>
+
+<p>"Thou belongest to the Third Form?"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"A wonderful scholar art thou, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch," was the
+cutting comment.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I could be much higher in the school," exclaimed Plunger, blushing
+to the roots of the "wiry thatch"; "but I don't like the boys in the
+upper Forms, you know. They put too much side on for me."</p>
+
+<p>"You look a modest, retiring kind of fellow. That's the reason the
+Mystic Brethren have taken such a fancy to thee."</p>
+
+<p>Down came the bladders on Plunger's back as tokens of brotherly
+affection. Plunger felt flattered at this testimony of the brethren to
+his virtues, but he wished at the same time they had expressed it in
+some other way.</p>
+
+<p>"It's very kind of you," he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Though thou dost despise the bounders of the Upper Form, peradventure
+thou wouldst not mind taking a small present from the Mystic Brethren of
+the Fifth?"</p>
+
+<p>"A present?" repeated Plunger, pricking up his ears. "Not at all. Shall
+be delighted to make myself useful."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see. The head boy of the Fifth is one named Hasluck, is he not,
+wearer of goggles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there not also in that same Form one named Leveson, famous
+timekeeper, owner of a stop-watch?"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger nodded, marvelling at the accuracy of the brethren's
+information. At a sign from Mellor, one of the masks, who was no other
+than Crick, left the circle, and brought from the corner of the shed a
+long parcel, wrapped in American leather-cloth&mdash;a facsimile, in fact, of
+the parcel which Paul had received from Wyndham a little earlier.</p>
+
+<p>"Give this to Hasluck, in the presence of the timekeeper Leveson and as
+many other menials of the Fifth as thou canst find. It is a souvenir
+from thy brethren to celebrate thy initiation to the Mystic Order. Dost
+thou understand?"</p>
+
+<p>Fluttering with excitement, Plunger clutched the parcel, and declared
+that he understood perfectly.</p>
+
+<p>He had not got far on the homeward road before he was rejoined by his
+companions, who had been lying in wait for him behind the friendly
+shelter of a hedge.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got it!" he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Got what?" demanded Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"The flag!" he cried, flourishing the precious parcel.</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo, Plunger!" exclaimed Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah!" shouted Parfitt. "How did you get it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Presented to me in honour of my initiation to the Mystic Order."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's have a look at it."</p>
+
+<p>"It mustn't be opened till we get to the school. Hasluck's got to open
+it, in the presence of Leveson."</p>
+
+<p>As Plunger had faithfully followed out their instructions, they could
+not very well object to this condition, so they ran by his side,
+questioning him by the way as to what had happened to him in his
+absence. Plunger answered to the best of his ability, colouring
+considerably the part he had played in the ceremony, and the esteem in
+which he was held by the brethren.</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;why, what's that?" exclaimed Stanley, coming to a dead stop. The
+others did the same. Their eyes followed his to the turret. There was
+the old flag flying from the top!</p>
+
+<p>Plunger turned pale; then a sickly hue went over his face as he looked
+from the flag to the parcel in his hand.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2>
+
+<h3>FRIENDS IN COUNCIL</h3>
+
+
+<p>Plunger's bewilderment was shared by his companions as they saw the old
+flag fluttering on the turret. What had happened? How on earth had it
+got there? Newall's hand went out to Plunger's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought you said you'd got the flag, ass?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh, oh! Le' go my ear!" roared Plunger, as he gazed first on the
+turret, then on the mysterious parcel in his hand. He firmly believed
+that the Mystic Brethren had given the flag into his care, that it was
+inside the parcel when he had set out from the shed, but that by some
+magical influence it had managed to transfer itself from the parcel to
+the turret. Yet there was something still inside the parcel without a
+doubt. What was that something?</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, bounder!" exclaimed Parfitt, helping himself to the other ear.
+"Got the flag&mdash;that's what you told us! Presented to you in honour of
+your initiation! What's your game, blockhead?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh, oh! Le' go my ear! That flag up there must be a beastly fraud,
+or there must be two of 'em! Le' go my ear, will you!"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger began to think that the sympathetic attention he had received at
+the hands of the enemy was only to be equalled by the polite attention
+of his friends.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you say you'd got the flag in that parcel, Plunger?" asked
+Stanley, in a quieter tone, because he detested bullying himself, and
+did not like it practised on others.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I did, Moncrief!" persisted Plunger. "That's a twin up there, or
+an imitation, or something of the sort. Get Hasluck and Leveson, and
+I'll prove it to you."</p>
+
+<p>"We're not going to wait for Hasluck or Leveson! You've gammoned us
+enough! Give it up!"</p>
+
+<p>Newall snatched the parcel from Plunger's hand. It was carefully bound
+round with cord. Too impatient to untie it, Newall severed the cord with
+his knife. As he did so a small bundle of "swishers"&mdash;long sticks, such
+as were used by the boys of St. Bede's for "beating the bounds"&mdash;fell
+from the cloth. They were bound round in turn with a sheet of white
+paper, and on this paper was written in a bold hand:</p>
+
+<p>"Your dull ass will only go with beating. You've provided the ass. We've
+provided the swishers. We deliver both safely into your hands. Times to
+be called by the Gargoyle&mdash;Leveson&mdash;with the stop-watch."</p>
+
+<p>Disappointed though they were, the boys standing around Plunger burst
+into laughter. Plunger had been skilfully hoaxed. Under the impression
+that he was carrying the flag, he had delivered into their hands the
+formidable-looking swishers, with precise directions as to the method in
+which they were to be employed. Plunger's self-assurance for once gave
+way. Where was he standing? He scarcely knew. The ground was crumbling
+under his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Plunger, if you don't take the cake, and the bun, and the
+biscuit!" came the cutting voice of Newall. "My word, how the Beetles
+must be sniggering at you! The flag, didn't you say?"&mdash;holding up the
+swishers. "Oh, oh, it's too funny! Given in honour of your initiation to
+the Mystic Order! Oh, oh! Help yourself, Parfitt; help yourself,
+Moncrief!"</p>
+
+<p>He tossed them a swisher each, and selected one for himself, the quality
+of which he tested by flipping it in the air, much too near the
+crestfallen Plunger to be pleasant.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, Newall!" said Parfitt, putting the swisher he had received to a
+similar test on the other side of Plunger. "Wasn't to be opened till you
+got to the school, was it, Plunger, in the presence of Leveson&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, in the presence of Leveson!" repeated Newall grimly. "Cut and find
+him, Plunger, and tell him to be sure and bring his stop-watch."</p>
+
+<p>Down came the swishers&mdash;twice, thrice. Plunger did not require any
+second bidding. He did "cut." His speed would have astonished himself
+had he had time to think about it, but he hadn't. His one great desire
+was to put as great a distance as possible between himself and Newall
+and Parfitt. Moncrief major had been more considerate of his feelings,
+and had not made use of his swisher.</p>
+
+<p>"Where can I hide myself," panted Plunger&mdash;"where?"</p>
+
+<p>He was not only sore and wounded in spirit, but in body as well.</p>
+
+<p>And here perhaps it is necessary to add a brief word of explanation as
+to how it was Plunger came in possession of the extraordinary parcel
+which had drawn upon him so much ridicule. When, with much reluctance,
+Mellor and his friends had given up the flag to Wyndham, they decided,
+by way of compensation, to prepare a parcel that closely resembled it.
+If the flag had been taken from them, they did not wish to be defrauded
+of their due share of sport at the hands of the enemy. So the note had
+been sent from the "Mystic Brethren," which, by a roundabout method, had
+drawn Plunger to the shed. What followed has been seen.</p>
+
+<p>To return to the scene outside Garside. So soon as Newall and Parfitt
+had ceased chasing Plunger they turned to Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't seem to be enjoying the fun, Moncrief?" said Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"No; can't quite see where the fun lies," answered Stanley gravely.
+"Seems to me that Plunger's not the only ass that wants beating. We
+might use those sticks very well on ourselves. We've been just as much
+sold as he has. We've been on a fool's errand. We were going to bring
+the flag back, and the flag's come back without us."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; the flag's come back, sure enough," answered Newall. "And how the
+dickens did it come back?&mdash;that's the puzzle. Hallo! There's your young
+cousin. He ought to know something about it. Moncrief&mdash;Moncrief minor!"
+he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>Harry, who was crossing the grounds at the time, turned in answer to the
+shouts and came towards the three boys.</p>
+
+<p>"Got the flag?" he asked innocently.</p>
+
+<p>"No cheek, kid, else we'll trounce you like we've just trounced your
+friend Plunger!" retorted Newall sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Who brought the flag back? How did it get there?"&mdash;glancing to the
+turret.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it got there by a friend of yours&mdash;Paul Percival," answered Harry,
+hitting back. "He's beaten you, just like you've beaten my friend
+Plunger."</p>
+
+<p>Newall scowled, and would have treated him to a taste of the swisher,
+only he recollected that he was Stanley's cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"Be serious, Harry," said Stanley. "Percival, did you say? Do you really
+mean that the flag was brought back by him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am serious, Stan&mdash;never more so in my life. The flag was brought back
+by Percival, and put in its old place on the turret by Percival."</p>
+
+<p>He then told them precisely what had happened. The three boys listened
+in silence. Percival had stolen a march upon them, that was quite clear.
+Stanley wondered whether his note of warning had put him on his guard.
+The thought that it had been of some service might have pleased Stanley,
+but the memory of Percival talking to Wyndham hardened his heart against
+him once more. He smothered the old feeling of friendship that would
+keep trying to assert itself, in spite of himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you that we should have to meet craft with craft!" cried Newall,
+breaking the silence. "But so far Percival has beaten us. Plunger's an
+ass, but he was quite right for once when he said that we'd have to get
+up very early in the morning to score off Percival. What's our next
+move?"</p>
+
+<p>As neither Moncrief major nor Parfitt responded, Newall went on:</p>
+
+<p>"We saw Percival talking to a particular friend of yours, Moncrief."
+Stanley winced at the cold, cutting words. "That was a couple of hours
+ago. At that time the flag was not on the turret. We can all answer as
+to that, I think?"</p>
+
+<p>Stanley and Parfitt nodded assent.</p>
+
+<p>"What happens? In the interval Percival returns to Garside with the
+flag. Where did the flag come from? I think the answer's simple
+enough&mdash;it must have come into Percival's possession by the help of your
+particular friend, the Beetle who was so kind to you at the sand-pits,
+Moncrief."</p>
+
+<p>Every word had its venom, and distilled its poison in the breast of
+Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, what of it?" he demanded hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>"What of it?" repeated Newall, raising his eyebrows and regarding him
+with feigned astonishment. "It's all clear enough, I should think. The
+whole business is an artfully-concocted plot between Percival and
+Wyndham. The flag disappears. How it disappears is a mystery. No one
+knows&mdash;least of all Percival. But he makes use of some high-sounding
+words in the presence of a few of the fellows&mdash;flag gone, by Heaven's
+help he'll bring it back again! The fellows cheer him to the echo. A
+short time elapses, during which the mystery deepens; then Percival
+turns up with the flag. He has kept his word. More cheers. Oh, yes, it's
+all clear&mdash;clear as day! Don't you think so, Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>"One moment," answered Stanley, passing his hand over his forehead. "I'm
+a bit dazed somehow. Let me understand. You believe that&mdash;that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That the hand which brought back the flag is the same hand that took it
+away."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course!" assented Parfitt. "As you say, Newall, it's as clear as
+day. Nothing could be clearer."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing could be clearer," echoed Stanley, as his head fell to his
+breast.</p>
+
+<p>Harry was silent. Like his cousin, there had always been deep down in
+his heart a real affection and sympathy for Paul. He had always hoped
+that he would be able to reinstate himself in the good opinion of the
+school; so it was he had cheered with the rest when Paul returned with
+the flag. It was all very mysterious, it was true; but Harry had shut
+his eyes on the mystery. The flag had come back to the school. Paul had
+brought it. He had made good his word. That was enough. He would be
+again the Paul he had once known&mdash;the Paul Stanley had known and loved.</p>
+
+<p>"What's to be done?" demanded Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we can't do anything to-day. Let's wait developments to-morrow.
+Mr. Weevil's bound to take some sort of action."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there you go again!" cried Stanley impatiently. "Putting things on.
+Yesterday it was the same."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to make straight for Percival. 'No,' said you; 'don't be in a
+hurry. We mustn't show our hands too soon.' And so on, and so on. Oh,
+I'm sick of it all&mdash;sick of everything&mdash;sick of waiting!"</p>
+
+<p>Harry looked up at his cousin. There was a note of passionate revolt in
+his voice, a fierce light in his eyes; both hands were clenched, and he
+seemed to sway to and fro, as though no longer master of himself.</p>
+
+<p>"For that matter, so am I," said Newall softly. "Perhaps I was wrong,
+Moncrief, in putting things off. I dare say I was. You gave in to me
+yesterday, I give in to you to-day; that's only fair. What do you want,
+old fellow?"</p>
+
+<p>Newall placed a hand quite lovingly on Stanley's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Want? No more of this wretched waiting game! Let's go to Percival
+straight&mdash;straight! Do you hear?" came hoarsely from Stanley's lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I hear; and I am with you."</p>
+
+<p>And Newall exchanged a swift smile of triumph with Parfitt.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2>
+
+<h3>UNEXPECTED TIDINGS</h3>
+
+
+<p>As soon as Paul had accomplished his purpose, and seen the flag waving
+in its old place on the turret, he went to the room of Mr. Weevil. He
+knew well enough that inquiries would be made respecting the return of
+the flag, and therefore he took the straightforward course of going at
+once to headquarters.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in!" came the voice of the master in response to the knock on his
+door.</p>
+
+<p>He was pacing to and fro the room&mdash;the same room in which Paul had seen
+him on that never-to-be-forgotten night with Zuker. He stopped as Paul
+entered, and regarded him in his usual manner&mdash;through half-closed eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You, Percival! What is it you want with me?" came the sharp answer.</p>
+
+<p>"I only came to tell you that the flag is back in its old place, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I know&mdash;I know! And you brought it back, I understand? I meant
+inquiring into the matter. I'm glad you've forestalled me. You want to
+explain&mdash;eh? That's what you've come for&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I've come for, sir," answered Paul, astonished that he
+should have gained such speedy information as to what had happened.
+Sometimes, indeed, it seemed as though those half-closed eyes not only
+saw further than other eyes, but that they had the faculty of double
+sight as well.</p>
+
+<p>"And yet I don't know whether I can call it an explanation, for there
+are things which cannot be explained."</p>
+
+<p>"Not explained? How do you mean, sir?" came the sharp answer.</p>
+
+<p>"I received the flag back from a friend of mine&mdash;a proved friend&mdash;on the
+solemn promise that I would not make use of the information he had given
+me to get any of the fellows who had taken it into a scrape."</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you make that promise?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because it was the only way of getting the flag back."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is all the information you can give me?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is all, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And you call it an explanation? Really, sir, it is one of the most
+extraordinary I have ever heard! And you expect me to accept it?"
+demanded the master, facing Paul, and looking him fully in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust so, sir, because I can give no other&mdash;have no other to give."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil did not at once answer, but took two or three more turns
+across the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you to be a lad of honour, Percival," he said, stopping once
+more, "and a lad of sense. Let me put it to you, then, as a lad of
+honour and of sense. Supposing I am perfectly ready to accept your
+statement, do you really believe that the school will be as ready to
+accept it?"</p>
+
+<p>"The school might be curious to know more, sir, but if you accept my
+explanation as sufficient, I don't see why anybody should question it."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; that might be well enough. But there have been one or two
+rather mysterious things that have happened within the last month or two
+which have never been cleared up. There was the breaking open of my
+desk, for instance, and the torn pages in the Black Book."</p>
+
+<p>"I could mention a still greater mystery that wants clearing up,"
+thought Paul, as his mind went back to the afternoon when he had seen
+the master enter the strange hiding-place of Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>"The culprit in that case has never been found out. It still remains a
+mystery," continued Mr. Weevil. "Then came the mysterious disappearance
+of the flag, and its equally mysterious return. The school will be
+getting suspicious&mdash;uneasy. If no better explanation is forthcoming
+than that you have given me, suspicion will grow&mdash;I am certain of it."</p>
+
+<p>Paul saw that the master was right. Still, he had no intention of giving
+up his secret.</p>
+
+<p>"I have given my word, sir," he answered firmly. "You would not have me
+break it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You said that you have received the flag from a friend, if my memory
+serves me&mdash;a proved friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask in what way his friendship has been proved?"</p>
+
+<p>How could Paul answer him? How could he tell the man before him in what
+way Wyndham had proved his friendship to him? Suddenly, it flashed into
+Paul's mind that the bold course was the best.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was home last vacation, sir, a gentleman had an accident with
+his horse. He asked me to take a packet for him to Mr. Moncrief, the
+father of Moncrief minor. I took the packet. On the way I was set on by
+two ruffians. I got away from them, but they followed me, and would have
+got the packet from me had it not been for the friend I speak of."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil's eyes began closing as Paul was speaking. When he finished
+they opened again.</p>
+
+<p>"What did this friend do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hid me till the ruffians had gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Good! And that enabled you to get the packet to Mr. Moncrief?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent! But, do you know, Percival, this really seems a stranger
+story than the other."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps so, sir; but I can prove every word of it, if you like. By your
+permission, I will send for Mr. Moncrief&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; that is altogether unnecessary!" said the master quickly.
+"Strange though the story is, I accept every word of it&mdash;every word. The
+friend you speak of was indeed a friend in need. You must keep your word
+to him&mdash;it would be an act of baseness to break it. I did not know the
+facts, you see. You may leave the rest to me."</p>
+
+<p>Paul's heart bounded joyfully. The bold course had been the right one.
+It had succeeded where a weaker course might have utterly failed.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, sir. It is very kind of you."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was about to withdraw, when the master called him back.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see, there was a letter came for you while you were out. There
+it is in the rack."</p>
+
+<p>Paul took the letter from the rack as Mr. Weevil turned to his books.
+Again his heart gave a great bound. One glance at it told him who it was
+from. It was the letter he had been so anxiously awaiting from Mr.
+Walter Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>"It <i>is</i> for you, isn't it?" Mr. Weevil asked, glancing into the boy's
+eager face.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," answered Paul, wondering whether the master suspected who it
+was from or had any knowledge of its contents. He inspected the envelope
+as he hastened to his dormitory. No; it did not seem to have been
+tampered with. Mr. Weevil could not have seen its contents. On reaching
+his room, he tore open the envelope, and read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"My dear Paul,&mdash;I received your first letter, but was away from
+home at the time, so was unable to answer it. Pardon my delay. You
+need not worry about the man Zuker. I am kept informed as to his
+movements.</p>
+
+<p>"With regard to your master Mr. Weevil, I quite agree with you&mdash;I
+cannot think that he has anything to do with a traitor to his
+country, though appearances may be against him. At any rate, till
+anything is distinctly proved, give him the respect due to a
+scholar and a gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>"To turn to other and more agreeable matters. I trust that Harry is
+getting on well. He seems too busy to write much. And when he does
+write, it's nothing but 'Plunger, Plunger, Plunger,' from start to
+finish. You would fancy there was nobody else but Plunger in
+existence. Tell him that when he can get away from Plunger we shall
+be very glad to hear from him again.</p>
+
+<p>"I know the great friendship there is between you and my nephew
+Stanley. I only hope that Harry will find as good and worthy a
+friend. Tell Stanley that he has to come here during next vacation,
+and bring you with him. I think we shall be able to provide you
+with plenty of amusement, though I can't promise you it will be of
+so exciting a kind as you had last vacation.&mdash;Your sincere friend,</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Walter Moncrief</span>."</p></div>
+
+<p>A great feeling of relief came over Paul when he read the first part of
+this letter. There was nothing to worry about Zuker. Mr. Moncrief was
+kept informed of his movements; and yet, and yet&mdash;&mdash;If Mr. Moncrief knew
+of his movements, why, in the name of wonder, did he not arrest him? But
+perhaps there were reasons against it. In any case, the answer was
+satisfactory, and he felt relieved.</p>
+
+<p>It was with far different feelings he read the last part of the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"I know the great friendship existing between you and Stanley," Paul
+read again, with sorrow. "I only hope that Harry will find as good a
+friend."</p>
+
+<p>And the message? What was he to do with the message Mr. Moncrief had
+asked him to deliver to Stanley? He turned the letter over and over in
+his hand. He must deliver it to him somehow.</p>
+
+<p>"Stanley must answer it; not I. I will give it to his cousin."</p>
+
+<p>As he passed along the corridor a deep groan came from one of the
+dormitories. It sounded like some one in pain. He stopped and listened.
+A few seconds more, and the groaning was repeated. He opened the door
+softly and looked in. The dormitory was to all appearances empty.</p>
+
+<p>"Strange! My ears must have deceived me," thought Paul.</p>
+
+<p>He was on the point of retreating when the sound came again to his ears.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I wasn't mistaken," he said, stepping softly into the room and
+closing the door after him. "It was somebody, but who?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked round, puzzled. There was no one visible. He stood perfectly
+still and waited. A few seconds more, and the groaning was repeated. But
+this time he detected whence it came. It came from under one of the
+cubicles. He crossed to it and looked underneath. A boy was huddled up
+on the floor. One glance was sufficient to tell him who it was&mdash;it was
+Master Plunger.</p>
+
+<p>"Here. Plunger, come out of that!"</p>
+
+<p>Plunger did not attempt to move.</p>
+
+<p>"Come out of that, I tell you!"</p>
+
+<p>As Plunger still refused to move, Paul took him by the leg and hauled
+him out.</p>
+
+<p>Such a woebegone Plunger it was! His wiry thatch was more dishevelled
+than usual. The eyebrows seemed to have made a more desperate attempt
+than ever to invade the territory of the forehead. The self-assurance
+which had been the distinguishing mark of Plunger's manner had gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Le' me go&mdash;le' me go!" he groaned. "I want to die!"</p>
+
+<p>"Die!" Paul could scarcely refrain from laughing. "There's not much of
+that about you! You're not one of those whom 'the gods love,' so you'll
+never die young, Plunger. What have you been up to? I believe you've
+been smoking."</p>
+
+<p>This accusation brought Plunger to a sitting posture on the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't been smoking&mdash;I haven't been smoking! It's the flag!"</p>
+
+<p>"What about the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"I angled for it, and thought I'd hooked it; but I hadn't. Some other
+fellow had; so instead of hooking the flag I got a beastly swishing.
+That's not all. I shall get roasted all round, and, of course, the Two
+J.'s will be poking fun at me in the 'Gargoyle Record.' I'd like to know
+who the fellow was who got the flag. Have you heard?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have heard, but I haven't time to go into it just now. Your friend
+Moncrief minor can tell you all about it. Cheer up, Plunger, and don't
+talk any more about dying."</p>
+
+<p>Paul hurried off, leaving Plunger to digest the scanty information he
+had given him as best he could.</p>
+
+<p>"Now for Stan!" he said, as he made his way to the common room, but
+little dreaming what was there in store for him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE STORM BREAKS</h3>
+
+
+<p>As Paul approached the common-room, the sound of voices came through the
+open door, and clear above the hubbub rose the voice of some one making
+free use of his name. He knew the voice well enough. It was Stanley's.
+Why were they discussing him?</p>
+
+<p>On entering the room, the voices ceased as by magic. Every eye was
+turned in his direction. Several boys were gathered round the fireplace.
+Foremost in the group were Newall, Parfitt, and Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I heard my name?" Paul exclaimed, as he stepped into the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right," said Stanley, coming from the group and confronting him.
+"I've been looking for you."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was on the point of saying that he also had been looking for
+Stanley, but the silence that followed Stanley's words, the concentrated
+gaze of that group of boys, and, above all, the face of Stanley
+himself&mdash;white, yet with a burning, feverish light in the eyes&mdash;kept
+back the words.</p>
+
+<p>"Looking for me?" he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I did hope that I should never have to speak to you again, but one
+or two things that have just happened make me. All the fellows here know
+how much it's against the grain."</p>
+
+<p>Paul's face fell. He had come in search of Stanley with the hope of
+bringing about a reconciliation. That hope receded in an instant to the
+far distance.</p>
+
+<p>"If it's against the grain, I wonder you should trouble," he could not
+help answering.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we have to swallow things we don't like sometimes." Then he broke
+off into a tone of banter. "So you've brought the flag back to Garside?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul did not answer. He was only conscious that the group had drawn
+closer to him, and that Stanley's eyes were burning at a fiercer heat.
+It seemed some other than Stanley who was speaking. He had assumed the
+tone and manner of Newall; but he was forcing himself into a part which
+did not suit him, so that he acted it badly.</p>
+
+<p>"The worst of Percival is that he's so modest. He doesn't know what a
+smart thing he's done," went on Stanley. "It isn't to be wondered at
+that the kids of the Third and Fourth have been cheering him like mad.
+Why should we be left out in the cold, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" echoed Parfitt. "Let's give him a rouser."</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt led off the cheers&mdash;cheers which fell with a hollow sound on
+Paul's ears, for he knew well enough they were only mocking him.</p>
+
+<p>"When we hear about a smart thing, we're naturally anxious to know how
+it was done," jeered Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally," echoed Newall, followed by cries of assent from the rest.</p>
+
+<p>"Order! Order for Percival!" exclaimed Stanley, holding up his hand for
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>Silence instantly reigned. You might have heard a pin drop as they
+waited for Paul to speak; but they waited in vain. He neither spoke nor
+moved. He was not thinking of himself, nor of the boys that stood around
+him. He had ears and eyes for Stanley, and no other. It was a
+transformed Stanley&mdash;not the Stanley he had once known.</p>
+
+<p>"Lost your tongue?" cried Stanley, breaking the silence. "Come, out with
+it. We can't wait here all day! How did you manage to get hold of the
+flag? Who had it, and how did you get it back to Garside? Don't be so
+awfully modest? You've hidden your light under a bushel too long."</p>
+
+<p>"The flag is back at Garside," answered Paul firmly, ignoring the taunt.
+"For the rest you had better ask Mr. Weevil. I don't owe any explanation
+to you or any other fellow in the Form!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned away, but Stanley sprang between him and the door.</p>
+
+<p>"That won't do? You do owe us an explanation, and I mean having it!"</p>
+
+<p>"You?"</p>
+
+<p>There was more of sorrow than anger in Paul's voice, but to the
+sensitive ears of Stanley, strung to the highest tension, it sounded
+strangely like contempt.</p>
+
+<p>"I! What were you doing with the Beetle we saw you with near the
+sand-pits this afternoon?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Beetle you ran away from, you know," added Newall. "The Beetle you
+left Moncrief to fight for you!"</p>
+
+<p>This wholly unnecessary piece of information sent the scarlet back for a
+moment into the white face of Stanley. His hands opened spasmodically;
+then closed in a firmer grip than before.</p>
+
+<p>The gibe acted differently on Paul. He recalled that Stanley had really
+suffered for him; he recalled too, the note of warning that had been
+left for him in his dormitory. Perhaps, after all, it had been written
+by Stanley? The Stanley he had once known as a friend. And there came
+over him the old longing to clasp him by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I will try to explain to you if you will meet me somewhere alone," he
+said, drawing near to Stanley, and speaking in a little more than a
+whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Speak out! I want no secrets!" cried Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"All the fellows in the Form have as much right to hear as I have! What
+I can hear they can hear! I don't want to go about sneaking and
+whispering in corners!"</p>
+
+<p>Murmurs of applause greeted this expression of opinion.</p>
+
+<p>"If that's the way you look at it," answered Paul sorrowfully, "the
+thing's ended. I've nothing more to say."</p>
+
+<p>"But I have, and you must hear&mdash;must!" repeated Stanley, with emphasis,
+as Paul tried to pass him. "It's your honour I'm thinking of, as much as
+the honour of the school. Do you know what they are saying?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know or care," came the swift answer. "As for my honour, it can
+very well take care of itself."</p>
+
+<p>"Like it did at the sand-pits," put in Parfitt, amid an outburst of
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>Paul bit his lip to keep back the angry words that sprang to his tongue.
+And the gibe went again as a poisoned shaft to the wound that was lying
+as a canker in the breast of Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll leave your honour out of it, if you don't care to stick up
+for it. But there's the honour of the school, and do you know what
+they're saying? They're saying that the flag business was all a
+dodge&mdash;that it's been engineered between you and the Beetle you would
+not stand up to in the sand-pits!"</p>
+
+<p>"Engineered! How do you mean?" demanded Paul, staggered by this fresh
+accusation.</p>
+
+<p>"That it was all arranged between you and the Beetle."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I can't quite see. I don't understand. Do you mean&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Let him have it straight; so that he can't wriggle out of it!"
+exclaimed Newall, as Paul paused, unable to get out the words that came
+as a torrent to the lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean that the theft of the flag was arranged between you and that
+fellow at St. Bede's; and that it's come back again by the same clever
+piece of trickery."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that what they're saying?" demanded Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what they're saying."</p>
+
+<p>"And&mdash;and&mdash;what do you say, Stan?" The name came out in a gulp.</p>
+
+<p>Had Stanley only followed his better impulse, he would have answered:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe it. Though appearances are against you, I cannot
+believe it. I still have faith in you, as I used to have. We have
+wandered apart, but Garside has never been what it was since we ceased
+to speak. I have been unhappy&mdash;miserable."</p>
+
+<p>But the gibes of Newall and Parfitt were still rankling in his breast.
+He seemed to feel again the blows of Wyndham on his face. So instead of
+answering as his better nature dictated, he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"I stand by the Form. I say the same."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it's a lie&mdash;a dirty lie. Let me pass."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was choking. It would not so much have mattered what his Form said.
+He could trust to time to bring them round again; but that Stanley could
+have believed him guilty of such mean, despicable trickery&mdash;there was
+the sting. Stanley had felt the blows of Wyndham on his face, but that
+was as nothing to the torture endured at that moment by Paul. It was as
+a flail cutting deep down into his very flesh.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley still barred the way to the door, and did not move.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me pass!" came again the hoarse, choking cry.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley did not budge. Neither did he answer. He was as dumb, as
+immovable, and as white as a block of marble. Paul could endure it no
+longer. He caught him by the arm to turn him aside. His touch started
+the statue before him into life. As though it were an insult to be wiped
+out, Stanley struck out blindly with his fist. Paul received the blow
+full on the face, and fell to the ground like a log.</p>
+
+<p>It was a cruel blow. Stanley knew it the moment he had struck his
+one-time friend, and he would have given all he possessed to have
+recalled it. But it was too late.</p>
+
+<p>"Well hit!" applauded Parfitt, as though Stanley had just made a
+brilliant drive in the cricket-field instead of striking his best
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>"First knockdown and blood to Moncrief!" exclaimed Newall. "Oh, he's all
+right, Waterman. He doesn't want any help from you."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman, who had been standing in the background, leaning in his usual
+indolent manner against the most comfortable corner of the fireplace,
+shook on his lethargy as Stanley struck the blow which felled Paul to
+the ground, and at once left his favourite spot by the fireplace and
+went to his assistance.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurt, Percival?" he asked as, heedless of Newall's remarks, he wiped
+away the blood that was trickling down Paul's cheek.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had been momentarily dazed by the unexpected blow; but he was
+strong, and soon shook the feeling off.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, Waterman. No; I'm not hurt," he whispered, rising slowly to his
+feet.</p>
+
+<p>The boys gathered round. The excitement had grown from the moment Paul
+had entered the room. From that instant the storm-clouds had begun to
+gather, and with the blow struck by Moncrief major they had burst.</p>
+
+<p>What would happen?</p>
+
+<p>"Steady yourself, Percival," whispered Waterman. "So&mdash;Are you sure you
+are all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman let go his arm. The blood still trickled down Paul's face, but
+he walked steadily up to Stanley, who had thrown up his arms in defence,
+as though expecting a return of the blow.</p>
+
+<p>"You can put down your hands, Stanley. I'm not going to fight you," said
+Paul calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"He's moulting again&mdash;more feathers!" cried Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"And aren't they white ones?" added Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to fight you," repeated Paul, looking Stanley squarely in
+the face; "but I'll pay you back again&mdash;some day."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley did not attempt to stop him this time; so Paul made his way back
+to his room, and sank upon his bed thinking. He had done nothing of
+which he was ashamed, but the blow of Stanley was burning on his cheek,
+and he felt wretched, miserable. He had striven for the best, but
+somehow things had turned out for the worst. Once before when things
+were at their blackest, there was one who had come to him, and placed a
+little hand in his; but now there was no one, save the good God above.</p>
+
+<p>He was thinking thus, when there was a tap on the door; the door was
+jerked open with a shoulder; and Waterman, with his hands thrust deep
+into his pockets, strode indolently in&mdash;just for all the world as though
+he were coming to a picnic.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV</h2>
+
+<h3>IN THE GARDEN</h3>
+
+
+<p>"It's tiring work getting up stairs, especially these stairs&mdash;ugh!" said
+Waterman, as he entered. "If you don't mind, I'll take a seat."</p>
+
+<p>And without waiting for Paul to answer, Waterman dropped down, with his
+hands still in his pockets, beside him on the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"It was very good of you to give me a helping hand just now, Waterman."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, humbug! I've got a wretched sort of memory. Fact is, it's too great
+a fag trying to recollect half the things crammed into you at school,
+but I seem to have a better memory than most fellows for some things.
+And there's one thing I can't forget&mdash;I can't forget you coming across
+the ground with that little chap, so like a drowned rat, in your arms. I
+shall have to be blind, deaf, and silly before I forget it."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman spoke in his usual drawling tone, but its underlying note of
+earnestness was quite unusual. Strange that Paul, too, had just been
+thinking of Hibbert, but in a scene far different from that to which
+Waterman had referred. God had been very good to him after all. He had
+been thinking how utterly lonely he was, and yet a friend&mdash;true, a
+somewhat indolent one&mdash;had come to him in his hour of adversity.</p>
+
+<p>"And look here, Percival," went on Waterman, "there's something else I
+remember. I don't know why, you know, but I do."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that? Seems to me your memory's improving," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my memory's fairly good when it's not grubbing about amongst Latin
+roots, or making a fellow bald-headed worrying over problems invented by
+a fiend calling himself Euclid ever so many years ago. Why the
+undertakers couldn't have buried them along with old Euclid, or stowed
+them away with his mummy, is one of those things I could never
+understand. Then if people wanted to dig them up again, they'd have been
+in their right place&mdash;in the mummy department of the British Museum.
+Where was I? Oh, on memory. Yes, there's one thing I remember, in spite
+of the Latin roots and weary old Euclid. I recollect what you told me on
+that day when you surprised every one by turning tail at the sand-pits.
+I've kept it to myself all this time. Is it necessary to keep it a
+secret any longer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Waterman," answered Paul firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why? Let me set you right with the Form? It'll be an awful fag, I know.
+Still, the vac's coming on, and one can have a good long rest after
+one's pulled through."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Waterman," said Paul, shaking his head; "I'm not going to curry
+favour that way. You've been a friend to me&mdash;a friend where I least
+expected to find one. Bear with me a little longer."</p>
+
+<p>"But you don't understand the dust that Newall, Parfitt &amp; Co. are
+kicking up? Can't you see that they've got Moncrief major completely
+under their thumb? They'll make Garside too hot to hold you."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll see. I'm not beaten yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Better let me speak," persisted Waterman.</p>
+
+<p>Paul shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I give you up. You are worse than old Euclid!" exclaimed Waterman,
+plunging his hands deeper into his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>With a yawn he strolled towards the door, edged his shoulder round it
+until he had opened it wide enough for his body to pass through, closed
+it by a like man[oe]uvre, and with the same measured step went on his
+way.</p>
+
+<p>"After all, I've got one friend at Garside," thought Paul, with a smile,
+"though he does like to take his time over things."</p>
+
+<p>He looked in the glass. His cheek was swollen and bruised. His
+appearance was very much what Stanley's had been when he had returned
+from the sand-pits after his encounter with Wyndham.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope Stanley is satisfied," he said, smiling grimly at himself in the
+glass.</p>
+
+<p>Then he remembered that he hadn't carried out the purpose for which he
+had gone to the common room. He had gone there for the purpose of
+speaking to him about Mr. Moncrief's letter. It was useless to think of
+doing so now. He would put the letter in his desk till a more convenient
+season. His hand went to his pocket. The letter had gone!</p>
+
+<p>The old feeling came over him that had come over him on the day when he
+had lost that other letter on his way to Redmead. It had disappeared
+from his pocket just as mysteriously. He looked around. There was no
+trace of it in the room. Then he remembered that he had pulled out his
+handkerchief in the common room to staunch the blood from his cheek. He
+must have pulled out the letter with it.</p>
+
+<p>It would not have mattered much had it been an ordinary letter. But it
+was not an ordinary one. Far from it. It contained references to Zuker
+and Mr. Weevil which might cause no end of mischief were it to get into
+the wrong hands.</p>
+
+<p>He did not like the idea of returning to the common room; it was like
+swallowing a nauseous draught of medicine. Probably the boys were still
+there, laughing over his discomfiture. Yet, nauseous though the draught
+was, it had to be swallowed, and it was best to swallow it quickly.</p>
+
+<p>So he again descended to the common room. He faintly hoped that it might
+be deserted, but that hope vanished as he reached the room. This time he
+heard the voice of Newall. He paused for a moment; then went boldly
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley had gone&mdash;he saw that at a glance; so had most of the others;
+but Newall, Parfitt, and two or three more had remained, and were
+evidently discussing recent events.</p>
+
+<p>They could not have been more startled had a ghost entered, instead of
+a being of flesh and blood. Paul searched round the room in the hope of
+finding some trace of the missing letter, but found none.</p>
+
+<p>"Dotty!" came the voice of one of the boys, who had by this time
+recovered from their surprise at the unexpected return of Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Looking for the courage that oozed out at his heels," sneered Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"I've lost a letter," said Paul, on whom these facetious remarks were
+quite lost. "You don't happen to have seen it?"</p>
+
+<p>No one answered him. They stared blankly at him. They did not mind
+speaking at him. Speaking to him was quite a different thing.</p>
+
+<p>It was perfectly useless to expect an answer from them; so Paul went
+out, feeling far from comfortable. He could only hope that no bad use
+would be made of the letter, supposing it had fallen into their hands.</p>
+
+<p><i>The Gargoyle Record</i> came out next day. Among other items of
+information were the following:</p>
+
+<p>"Old flag back to tower. Brought back by 'two P's' of the Fifth. Great
+enthusiasm&mdash;little waddlers of the Third cheering like lunatics; big
+cacklers of the Fifth hissing like geese. Mystery in three volumes. Vol.
+I.&mdash;How the flag disappeared from Garside. Vol. II.&mdash;Where it went to.
+Vol. III.&mdash;How 'two P's' got it back again. Snorters of the Fifth
+getting excited. A commission of inquiry into the conduct of 'two P's.'</p>
+
+<p>"Rumours of a scrum in common room. 'Two P's' again distinguishes
+himself. Still living up to his old motto:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"He who fights and runs away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will live to fight another day."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"What has become of that promising junior whose name rhymes with hunger?
+Nothing has been seen or heard of him for the last day or two. What has
+come over him? His native modesty seems to have left him. He has
+retreated to a back seat. Is he projecting further adventures in desert
+islands, or giving lessons in punting? Anxious inquiries are being made
+at the offices of the <i>Record</i>. Colonial papers in the neighbourhood of
+desert islands, please copy."</p>
+
+<p>Paul, on reading these paragraphs, knew well enough who was meant by
+"two P's." They were the initials of his own name&mdash;Paul Percival.</p>
+
+<p>But his mind was taken from these happenings by a message from the
+sick-room. Hibbert had been up for a few hours each day, and had pleaded
+hard with the doctor to be allowed to go out; so the doctor at last gave
+the nurse permission. On two days the invalid went out with the nurse.</p>
+
+<p>On the third day he asked Paul, as a special favour, to take him out.
+Paul willingly consented, only too pleased to feel that he could be of
+some help to him again. There was one favourite spot to which the
+solitary boy used to go when he was well. It was in the garden attached
+to the schoolhouse, apart altogether from the playing-fields. It was
+marked "Private," and the boys, as a rule, were not allowed there. It
+was chiefly used by the masters.</p>
+
+<p>It was because it was so tranquil, so different from the playing-fields,
+and because the sun seemed to linger around this old garden longer than
+anywhere else, that the dreamy boy loved it, and used to steal there
+when he was well.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so glad to feel you on my arm again, Hibbert!" said Paul, as he led
+him to a basket-seat, with cushions, beneath a wide-spreading elm.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel better now than I've felt for a long time, Paul. How I must have
+wearied people lying up there!"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced in the direction of the school.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say that, Hibbert. It sounds as though there was no one in the
+world who cared for you."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it sounds ungrateful; but even when we care for people, we must
+get weary of them when they're ill a long time. I don't mean you, but
+the nurse, and doctor, and&mdash;other people."</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew that Hibbert was thinking chiefly of his father, who, absorbed
+in his own schemes, had only been to see him once since his illness&mdash;on
+that afternoon when Mr. Weevil had introduced him to Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>To turn the boy's mind from these sad thoughts, Paul told him some of
+the latest exploits of Plunger, winding up with his recent discovery of
+him under the bed in his dormitory. Hibbert was amused and interested.</p>
+
+<p>"Plunger's a funny lot. He makes me smile to think of him. I hope he's
+never worried himself much about that raft accident?"</p>
+
+<p>"Plunger's not the sort of fellow to worry himself much about anything
+for long; but he's often asked me about you."</p>
+
+<p>"I was thinking a good deal about what happened on the raft last night.
+I could not sleep for thinking of it; and then, when I went to sleep, I
+dreamed&mdash;dreamed that my mother was standing by me all in white. She was
+smiling down at me, and held out her arms to me. I tried to get to her,
+and in trying to get to her I awoke. Do you know, I was so disappointed!
+The dream was better than the awaking. I so wished my mother had lived,
+for then you would have known her, Paul. I'm sure you would have liked
+her, and that she would have liked you. But perhaps it is best as it
+is."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure it's for the best, though it seems hard to say so. Everything
+is for the best, Hibbert. We don't see it, because we're only blind
+people leading the blind. But God sees, and God knows. That's what my
+mother has told me so often that I've never forgotten it. It has helped
+me a lot&mdash;more than I can tell you. You've talked about your mother, let
+me tell you a little about my own."</p>
+
+<p>And Paul talked to Hibbert about his own mother. The boy listened
+eagerly, with one hand resting in Paul's, a smile upon his lips.
+Suddenly he drew a deep sigh of content; the fragile head fell back upon
+the chair; the hand in Paul's grew suddenly cold.</p>
+
+<p>Paul looked into the boy's face. The smile still hovered about his lips,
+but he saw something in the face he had never seen there before.</p>
+
+<p>"Hibbert!" he cried. But there was no response.</p>
+
+<p>Paul gently withdrew his hand and ran to the house. He met Sedgefield,
+and sent him for the nurse, while he hurried back to Hibbert.</p>
+
+<p>The little fellow was still lying back in the chair. A wren had perched
+itself lovingly upon his shoulder, but Hibbert knew nothing of its
+presence. He was fast asleep&mdash;in the long, last sleep that knows no
+waking.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV</h2>
+
+<h3>HOW THE VOTE WAS CARRIED</h3>
+
+
+<p>Hibbert's death caused a lull in the storm that recent events had raised
+at Garside. Notwithstanding his illness, it was thought that he was
+getting better. It came, therefore, with a shock to the school when he
+was found sleeping that afternoon in the garden. The little fellow was
+laid to rest in a country churchyard, at some distance from the school,
+by the side of the mother whom he had so loved.</p>
+
+<p>No one in the school, with the exception, perhaps, of Mr. Weevil, missed
+him so much as Paul did. He had a great pity for Hibbert, and that pity
+had grown to love. He never forgot that last scene in the garden&mdash;in the
+warm sunshine, with the shadows creeping over it, and the Great Shadow
+of all drawing nearer and nearer, until it at last rested on the boy's
+head.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did he forget the interview he afterwards had with Mr. Weevil, when,
+with tones that were strangely uneven for Mr. Weevil, he had questioned
+him about all that Hibbert had said in those last moments before he had
+fallen asleep. When Paul told him what the boy had said about his
+mother&mdash;of his dream, and the awakening&mdash;the master's eyes blinked as he
+had never seen them blink before.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! He has his wish; he is with her&mdash;with his mother," said the master,
+as one speaking to himself rather than to Paul. "He is at rest
+and&mdash;happy."</p>
+
+<p>Then he remained silent for so long, as one buried in deep thought, that
+he seemed to have quite forgotten the presence of Paul. Paul knew of
+whom he was thinking; that he, too, was thinking of the boy's
+mother&mdash;the sister whom he had loved and reverenced; so he stole
+quietly from the room.</p>
+
+<p>During this time Paul saw nothing of Hibbert's father. He wondered
+whether he was still carrying on his schemes in the cave, or whether the
+death of his son had altered his plans in any way. In any case, Paul
+felt no cause for alarm. The letter of Mr. Moncrief had removed all
+cause for anxiety. None the less he could not help feeling anxious as to
+what had become of the letter itself. Where had it gone to on that day
+it had fallen from his pocket? Into whose hands had it fallen? Had it
+fallen into the hands of the enemy, Newall and his lot? If so, what use
+were they making of it?</p>
+
+<p>He was still left pretty much to himself, so he was able to put the
+finishing touches to his essay on "The Invasion of Great Britain," a
+subject, as the reader knows, which had occupied some share of his time
+and attention. Then the essay was sent in with others for the
+competition.</p>
+
+<p>The breach between him and Stanley, as may be imagined, had not been
+lessened by what had happened between them in the common room. Stanley
+avoided him as much as possible, and they never spoke.</p>
+
+<p>After the momentary lull in the storm caused by the death of Hibbert, it
+broke out again more violently than ever. This was due to the fact that
+Mr. Weevil had made no inquiry, or seemed to have made no inquiry, into
+the circumstances which had brought about the return of the flag. Newall
+and his parasite Parfitt said it was a disgrace to the school.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the storm, which had momentarily lulled, broke out with fresh
+vigour. While it was at its height, the Fifth once more assembled in the
+Forum. Hasluck presided, as usual, and the rest of the Form, with one
+exception&mdash;Paul&mdash;were present. Arbery and Leveson guarded the door
+against invasion from "the little beggars of the Third and Fourth."</p>
+
+<p>Hasluck mounted the rostrum, and brought his mallet down with a bang as
+a signal that the meeting had commenced.</p>
+
+<p>"Now then, you fellows, order! I'm not going to spout a lot&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't if you tried!" put in Devey.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Devey, are you in the chair, or am I? If you don't keep
+quiet, I'll chuck the mallet at you," said Hasluck, raising it
+threateningly. "As I said before, till I was interrupted by an ass
+braying, I'm not going to spout a lot. What we've got to do is to get to
+business, and most of you know what that business is."</p>
+
+<p>"Hear, hear, hear!"</p>
+
+<p>"Most of you were present in the common room when certain charges were
+made against Percival by Moncrief major. He told Percival to his face
+that the flag business was all a dodge; that it was engineered between
+him and the champion of the Beetles. Percival denied it; but you know
+what happened after that. Moncrief struck him, and Percival went away
+with his tail between his legs just as he did at the sand-pits. We were
+all disgusted&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"All!" echoed the others, with the exception of Waterman, who was
+reclining languidly on a box, apparently quite unconcerned in what was
+going on.</p>
+
+<p>"We were all disgusted, and decided to take some action which would
+bring matters to a point. Unfortunately, Hibbert died just then, and we
+could do nothing. We were obliged to wait a decent interval. The time
+for waiting's past." (Cheers.) "We've got to get to business. Moncrief
+major will explain."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley, with white, set face, was standing between Newall and Parfitt.
+After the charge he had made against Paul at Newall's instigation, and
+the blow that had followed it, he had been forced into a position from
+which it was impossible for him to retreat. First he had been adroitly
+forced into the position of being Paul's accuser; and now, with no less
+adroitness, he had been compelled to take a step which struck more
+cruelly at his friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I haven't much to explain," he said, in a thick, unnatural voice.
+"As Hasluck has said, we all decided to take action after what happened
+in the common room. Hibbert's death prevented us. I think you know what
+that action is. We're going to call upon the Head to expel Percival from
+the school."</p>
+
+<p>A loud cheer greeted this announcement. There could be no doubt as to
+the feeling of the Form, and that Stanley had voiced it.</p>
+
+<p>"Move, move!" came from several of the boys, when the cheers had
+subsided.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we must have everything in order," said Hasluck. "It's about the
+first time that we've ever called upon the masters to expel a fellow."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley hesitated. How was it possible for him to strike at Paul
+again&mdash;this time behind his back!</p>
+
+<p>"Get on&mdash;move! What are you stopping for?" demanded Parfitt, nudging him
+with his elbow. "I'll back you up."</p>
+
+<p>"Get on," repeated Newall, nudging him from the other side.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I move," said Stanley, in faltering tones, "that we call upon the
+Head to expel Percival from the school."</p>
+
+<p>"And I second!" cried Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"And I support!" exclaimed Newall.</p>
+
+<p>"Hands up for!" demanded Hasluck.</p>
+
+<p>"One minute before you vote," came the languid voice of Waterman, as the
+hands shot up. "You don't want to be in such a hurry. It's bad for the
+nerves. People in a hurry have fits. They get themselves into knots and
+tangles which take no end of time to get out of, and leave them with a
+lovely headache into the bargain. That's what you're going in for&mdash;fits,
+tangles, headaches. I gave Moncrief major credit for sense. You're not
+going to follow his lead, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>The arms that were held up fell. The boys stared at Waterman in
+astonishment. It was not often that he took the trouble to speak at
+these meetings, but when he did it was usually to the point.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we are. Why shouldn't we?" exclaimed Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll be bigger asses than I took you for&mdash;and that's saying a good
+deal, you know&mdash;if you do. I didn't hear all that took place after
+Moncrief struck Percival. The atmosphere was getting bad, you see, and I
+don't like breathing bad atmosphere, if I can help it; so I don't know
+what passed between you fellows. I've no doubt it was something choice,
+and that I lost a great deal; so perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me
+why Percival's to be expelled."</p>
+
+<p>This demand on Waterman's part, made in the most innocent manner, was
+met with howls of derision. They could never quite tell from Waterman's
+manner whether he was serious or poking fun at them; but this time it
+seemed quite clear that he could only be poking fun.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's very musical," proceeded Waterman calmly, when the howling
+had subsided. "I couldn't do better myself, if I tried. You're going to
+expel Percival because you believe he engineered the flag. That's it,
+isn't it?" (Cries of assent.) "Good! I like to get at things," retorted
+Waterman, still keeping his languid position on the box. "Engineering
+the flag means&mdash;what? It means that Percival, by trickery, got it away
+from Garside. Is that it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes!" came the approving shout.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, vote as you like. Here's one that's going to vote against you."</p>
+
+<p>"Why? What's your reason?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I happen to remember what happened on the day the flag was
+lost. Seems to me most of you have forgotten."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman had started up from his languid position on the box; his face
+had lost its wearied, languid expression, and had become quite animated.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't, and never shall, though I never pretend to remember things;
+they're so beastly uninteresting, as a rule. This wasn't. That's why I
+remember, I suppose. Well, on the afternoon the flag was lost I was
+going from the school, when I nearly ran full tilt against a fellow who
+was carrying a little chap, dripping wet, in his arms. The fellow was
+Percival; the little chap was Hibbert. You know what happened, though
+you seem to have forgotten it. Percival, at the risk of his own life,
+saved the little chap from the river."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley's head fell to his breast. The scene came to him as Waterman was
+speaking. Had he not met Paul on that day staggering along with his
+burden? Had he not avoided him, when he might have given a helping hand?</p>
+
+<p>"What's that to do with it?" demanded Newall. "Supposing Percival did
+pull the youngster out of the river, what's that to do with the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"What's that to do with the flag!" repeated Waterman. "It's this to do
+with it&mdash;how could Percival be playing tricks with the flag, and fishing
+at the same time a poor little chap out of the river? Besides, would a
+fellow who'd done a splendid thing like that stoop to such a mean thing
+as the other?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," retorted Newall boldly. "A fellow who would turn tail like he did
+at the sand-pits, and again in the common room, would do anything. It's
+you who forget, Waterman. We've asked Percival for an explanation. If
+he's innocent, why doesn't he explain?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, and what's more, I don't care. What I've seen of Percival
+is quite good enough for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Vote, Vote!" cried Parfitt. "We don't want any more twaddle."</p>
+
+<p>Hasluck brought down his hammer as a signal that discussion was at an
+end. Then he put the motion moved by Stanley&mdash;"That the Form call upon
+the Head to expel Percival from the school."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley would have voted against his own proposal had it been possible.
+But it was impossible; so his hand went up with the rest&mdash;all save one.</p>
+
+<p>"Against!" cried Hasluck.</p>
+
+<p>Up went the hand of Waterman, amid the derisive cheers of those around
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Phew! The atmosphere of this place is getting beastly, just like the
+common room on the day when the shindy was. Phew! I don't wish to be
+unpolite, but I'm sure you fellows won't mind if I get out of it."</p>
+
+<p>And thrusting his hands into his pockets, Waterman sauntered out.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>So the vote was carried that Paul Percival should be expelled from
+Garside.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI</h2>
+
+<h3>WATERMAN DOES A STRANGE THING</h3>
+
+
+<p>For one who had professed himself as beastly hot and fagged, Waterman
+did a strange thing after he had left the Forum. He walked with a speed
+that was simply amazing for him in the direction of St. Bede's; and what
+was still more remarkable, he did not stop until he had reached it. None
+of the Beetles were about at the time, but he had not long to wait
+before he caught sight of one of the junior form.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell Wyndham I wish to see him&mdash;as quickly as possible."</p>
+
+<p>The boy stared at him, as Murrell had stared at Paul when he had visited
+St. Bede's. It was not till he had repeated his message that he seemed
+to comprehend.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick, there isn't much time to lose!" exclaimed Waterman, as though it
+were a matter of life and death.</p>
+
+<p>Then the boy hurried off, and a minute or two later Wyndham appeared.
+Waterman was unknown to him; so that he was just as much astonished at
+seeing him as the smaller boy had been.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a Gargoyle, you can see that. My name's Waterman, and I've come
+here about a fellow named Percival. Spare me the fag of explaining too
+much."</p>
+
+<p>"Percival! What about him!" demanded Wyndham, at once interested.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a strong movement on foot to get him expelled from Garside.
+It's chiefly over the flag. His best friend, or one who was, has turned
+against him; and things are looking as black for Percival as they can
+look. I'm afraid that he'll get the worst of it, unless something's
+done. I can do nothing; so I've come to you. There's some beastly
+mystery about the whole business. Percival won't explain because of
+somebody else, and that somebody else is you. I'm certain you won't see
+Percival kicked from Garside, if a few words from you will set things
+right."</p>
+
+<p>"Kicked from Garside!" exclaimed Wyndham. "Tell me what happened?"</p>
+
+<p>Waterman, feeling that the time for speaking frankly had come, told
+Wyndham all that had happened&mdash;from the day Wyndham had fought and
+conquered Stanley in the sand-pits.</p>
+
+<p>They remained a long time in conversation, and when Waterman at length
+returned to Garside, Wyndham returned with him.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime an interview of a different nature was taking place at
+Garside. After the meeting in the Forum, Stanley, feeling very wretched,
+had retreated to his dormitory, where in a few minutes he was joined by
+his cousin Harry, who was looking just as miserable and uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Stan, is it right what I hear&mdash;that Percival is to be kicked out
+of Garside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what if he is? Doesn't he deserve it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. It's a puzzle. I can't make things out. Look at this
+letter. I picked it up while the shindy was going on between you and
+Paul in the common room. All the fellows were crowding round you. No one
+saw the letter but me. Paul dropped it when he was mopping the blood
+from his face. I ought to have given it back, but I saw that it was
+father's handwriting; so I sneaked off with it, and read it; and
+then&mdash;then I knew that I'd done a mean thing and did not like to give it
+back to Paul."</p>
+
+<p>He handed Stanley the letter&mdash;the letter in which Mr. Moncrief had
+answered Paul's inquiries about Zuker and Mr. Weevil, and concluded by
+inviting him and Stanley to Redmead at the next vacation.</p>
+
+<p>"What does it all mean?" demanded Stanley, when he had read the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't make out. I thought, perhaps, you might be able to throw light
+on it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid not; but you might leave it with me. I'll think it over."</p>
+
+<p>"All right; but I say, Stan, you must do something to prevent Paul being
+chucked from the school. That's going it a bit too strong. I know whose
+working that beastly dodge&mdash;Newall and his jackal Parfitt."</p>
+
+<p>How could Stanley tell his cousin that it was he&mdash;Stanley Moncrief&mdash;who
+had actually moved that Paul should be expelled from the school? If it
+were possible for Stanley to have felt more wretched than he had felt
+when Harry came to him, he certainly did so when he was once more alone.
+"I know the great friendship there is between you and my nephew
+Stanley." Those were the words which stared him in the face. Friendship?
+What mockery! How had he proved his friendship? By doing his best to get
+Paul expelled from the school. What would his uncle say to him when he
+next visited Redmead? It was to show him this letter Paul had doubtless
+come to him that day in the common room. And he had met him&mdash;with a
+blow. It was dastardly.</p>
+
+<p>He must do his best to undo the mischief he had done. Stanley started
+up, and went to the door; then he paused, and his heart began to harden
+again.</p>
+
+<p>After all, if mischief had been created, Paul was alone responsible. It
+was he, and not Stanley, who had acted in a dastardly manner. It was he
+who had run away at the sand-pits, and left him to fight his battle with
+the beastly Beetle; it was he&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>His meditations were cut short by the door being opened, and the
+entrance of Waterman.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo, Moncrief. The very fellow I've been looking for. Horrid bore
+looking for fellows. Phew! Close in here, isn't it? You look a bit off.
+Come for a little stroll. I've got a fellow who's dying for an
+introduction to you."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman slipped an arm through Stanley's, and before Stanley was aware
+of it, had led him through the door.</p>
+
+<p>"A fellow&mdash;wants to be introduced to me! What fellow?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's it. What fellow? You'd never guess. It's a pleasant little
+surprise I've got in store for you. Think of all your rich uncles and
+aunts, and people of that sort. Ha, ha! A pleasant surprise, lovely,
+delightful. Mustn't spoil it by telling you. Come along."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman's reference to uncles at once reminded Stanley of the uncle
+whose letter he had been reading. Could it be that his uncle Moncrief
+was paying him a surprise visit? But Waterman did not take him to the
+visitors'-room. He took him out of the grounds to some elms which
+flourished not far from the school. Here a boy was leaning against one
+of the trees. Stanley glanced at him; then turned white. It was Wyndham.</p>
+
+<p>"Told you I had a little surprise," said Waterman. "Wasn't I right? I
+like little surprises&mdash;don't you? Explanations are an awful bore. I
+never like explanations if I can get out of them. Wyndham's got
+something to tell you. You'll find him very decent for a Beetle."</p>
+
+<p>And Waterman vanished with a speed which was really marvellous for him,
+leaving the two together. The last time they had met face to face they
+had met as antagonists, and had fought hard. The memory of that time was
+present to both of them, for neither seemed anxious to break the
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Do I understand that you wish to see me?" Stanley presently asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; it was kind of you to come."</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't compliment me, for I mightn't have come had I known whom I
+had to meet," answered Stanley coldly. "Waterman misled me."</p>
+
+<p>"Anyhow, I'm glad you have come, and so will you be, I think, before you
+go back. I hope you don't look upon me as an enemy?"</p>
+
+<p>"How else can I look upon you? Have you sent for me to mock me?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's my last wish. I've sent for you to prevent you doing a great
+wrong to a friend of yours&mdash;Paul Percival."</p>
+
+<p>"A friend of mine!" repeated Stanley, scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, one who was your friend, and who, I hope, will soon be your
+friend again."</p>
+
+<p>"You have more reason to be thankful to him than I have," laughed
+Stanley, bitterly. "He ran away from you, and left me with the work he
+hadn't the courage to go on with. I know that I didn't come very well
+out of it, but I didn't run away."</p>
+
+<p>"No; you did well&mdash;much better than I did. I'm sorry, very sorry, I
+fought with you. More so, as by fighting you I separated two friends.
+Often and often I have prayed to be forgiven. It has all been a ghastly
+mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"Mistake? Percival running away&mdash;there wasn't much mistake about that,
+I'm thinking."</p>
+
+<p>"That is the greatest mistake of all. All of you put it down to fear of
+me; but it wasn't&mdash;far otherwise. I don't believe that Paul Percival
+knows what fear is; and you, who were his friend, ought to have known
+that as well as I do."</p>
+
+<p>"So I thought&mdash;up till then. After, what could I think? What could any
+of us think?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your best of him, instead of your worst. Haven't you ever suspected the
+reason why he would not stand up to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never! Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Blind&mdash;blind! Do you remember that Percival on one occasion&mdash;during
+last vacation&mdash;helped a gentleman in distress by acting as his
+messenger?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite well, seeing that that gentleman was my father."</p>
+
+<p>"Your father? Yes, that was the gentleman, I believe, for whom Percival
+did this kindness. He was set upon by the way by two ruffians, but
+managed to escape. Did he ever tell you how he managed it?"</p>
+
+<p>"By hiding down a well."</p>
+
+<p>"Right! But there was a boy who helped him to this queer hiding-place.
+That boy was me!"</p>
+
+<p>"You?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. On the day Percival came to the sand-pits to meet the champion of
+the Beetles, he little knew whom he was to meet. I knew as little whom I
+was to meet. He looked upon me as one who had saved his life. How could
+he fight me? So he turned away."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't he explain?" asked Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"And give away his secret, or, rather, your father's secret, before that
+mob of boys? You&mdash;you ask that?"</p>
+
+<p>"But after&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"After? From what he has told me, he made more than one effort to
+explain to you, but you would never listen to him."</p>
+
+<p>It was true enough. Stanley remembered it all&mdash;the effort Paul had made
+to speak to him immediately after the fight, and later. Everything was
+now clear. How noble Paul had been! How he had wronged him! He covered
+his face with his hands. He could not speak. Wyndham respected his
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>At length he placed his hand upon the bowed shoulder. Stanley did not
+shrink from it.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry if I've caused you pain; but it was the only way. Mischief is
+being done. You must prevent it from going any further."</p>
+
+<p>"I will&mdash;I will! You can trust me," cried Stanley, fervently. "Paul,
+Paul, how I've wronged you!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you see that. You will make it up with him&mdash;you will be
+friends with him once more?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; if he will have my friendship. But I don't deserve it. I
+deserve kicking. It was kind of you to take so much trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Wyndham turned on his heel, but as suddenly turned round again.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you mind taking my hand, Moncrief?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley took it in his, and shook it heartily.</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks; I am very sorry it was raised against you. But we understand
+one another better now."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley wiped away the mist that had somehow gathered in his eyes, and
+when he could see clear Wyndham had gone.</p>
+
+<p>Then he went in search of Paul, anxious to ask his forgiveness, and
+undo, as best he could, the mischief that had been done. But he could
+not find him.</p>
+
+<p>He searched everywhere with the same result. And, what was still more
+astonishing, his cousin was also missing.</p>
+
+<p>Night came on, and still Paul and Harry were missing from the school.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil began to get alarmed. It was past ten, and still no news of
+the missing boys. What had become of them?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII</h2>
+
+<h3>IN THE FOX'S HOLE</h3>
+
+
+<p>What had become of Paul? What was the cause of his absence from the
+school? Had he heard of the decision come to by his Form, and instead of
+waiting to be expelled, had he left of his own accord? That was the view
+of Newall and others of the Fifth.</p>
+
+<p>"About the best thing he could have done," said Parfitt. "It wasn't only
+the flag business, but there were other things in the background. The
+Black Book business has never been cleared up, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt made this remark in his most significant manner, with uplifted
+eyebrows and a shrug of the shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right. Kick a man when he's down," drawled Waterman. "Parfitt's
+better at a drop kick than any fellow I know."</p>
+
+<p>The Third were just as much concerned over the disappearance of
+Moncrief, jun., as the Fifth were over the disappearance of Percival.
+Stanley was doubly anxious&mdash;anxious for Paul, anxious for his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>Could they have gone away together? That was scarcely likely. They were
+hardly on speaking terms for one thing; and even if the idea of running
+away from Garside had suddenly come into Paul's head, it was not at all
+likely that he had induced Harry to run away with him. What, then, had
+happened?</p>
+
+<p>While the school was thus anxiously awaiting news of the missing boys,
+we will try to explain what had really happened.</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew that a meeting of his Form had been called, and that he and
+his doings were to be discussed, probably censured. When would the time
+arrive that he might take steps to defend himself? When would his lips
+be unsealed? How much longer would Mr. Moncrief keep him in suspense,
+and what had become of Zuker?</p>
+
+<p>Unconsciously Paul had strayed from the school to the garden where
+Hibbert had, not so long since, fallen asleep&mdash;in the sleep that knows
+no waking. He sat for a long time under the tree, thinking of these
+things, with no one to disturb his thoughts, save the birds that
+fluttered around him as they used to flutter around Hibbert.</p>
+
+<p>What had become of Hibbert's father? Again and again the question came
+to him, and he could not dismiss it from his thoughts. He thought of the
+strange circumstance under which he had last seen him&mdash;of that weird
+scene in the cave with the man Brockman. All that had happened at that
+interview was fixed indelibly on his memory. He could see Zuker tracing
+with his finger on the chart the passage of the Dutch to the
+Medway&mdash;could hear his voice as he described all that had happened as
+they broke the chain on the river and advanced on Upnor Castle.
+Then&mdash;then had followed the strange appearance of the master, and the
+still stranger interview between him and Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>Was the cave still there? Often and often a strong desire had seized
+Paul to go there again, but he had resisted it. Now, however, as he
+thought of all that had happened on the evening he went there, the
+impulse grew so strong upon him that he could wrestle with it no longer.
+He must respond to its call.</p>
+
+<p>So, as one under some mighty spell, Paul passed from the garden, and was
+soon on his way to Cranstead Common.</p>
+
+<p>It was beginning to get dusk as he followed the trail along which he had
+once followed in the footsteps of Mr. Weevil. After travelling some time
+in the direction of the river, he came to the thickly-wooded part, where
+the master had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Searching amongst the brambles, he found the curious division which
+marked the centre, and placing his hand beneath the bushes as before, he
+was not long in finding the ring that was attached to the circular
+opening. Raising it, he entered again the sloping tunnel cut in the
+sandstone.</p>
+
+<p>Though he had only been in that tunnel once before, he had travelled
+along it so often in imagination since that it seemed to him he was on
+familiar ground. He had hesitated when he first entered it. He knew not
+whither it would lead him, what dangers might meet him on the way. He
+hesitated no longer. Still he walked cautiously, with his hands before
+him, like a blind man in the darkness, until it began to broaden. Once
+he thought he heard footsteps behind him, and he came to a sudden pause.
+Was some one really following him, or was it only the echo of his own
+footsteps?</p>
+
+<p>He listened attentively, but could hear nothing. It was as silent as the
+tomb.</p>
+
+<p>"My ears must have deceived me," he told himself, as he continued his
+way.</p>
+
+<p>Presently he came to that part of the tunnel where a faint film of light
+penetrated into it, and again the fantastic shadows he had before seen
+seemed to menace him at every footstep he took. The cave, then, was not
+deserted. It was still inhabited by some one. Who? Zuker and
+Brockman&mdash;the same tenants as before, or had some one else come into
+possession?</p>
+
+<p>Yes, there was the curtain, partly concealing the main entrance to the
+cave. To reach it, he crawled on hands and knees as before, and peered
+through the space between the curtain and the wall.</p>
+
+<p>There was no anthracite fire burning this time. It was dimly lighted by
+one of the lamps suspended from the roof. There was no sign of life. The
+place seemed deserted.</p>
+
+<p>Paul waited for a long time listening. No sound came from the cave. It
+was as silent as the tomb. But as he listened, he thought that he could
+again hear the sound of a light step behind him, coming along the path
+he had travelled.</p>
+
+<p>Was it possible that some one else had entered the tunnel? Surely the
+master had not again followed unconsciously in his footsteps? Paul
+turned his head and listened, but it was as silent in that direction as
+the other.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm getting as nervous as a kitten," he laughed to himself. "My ears
+have again deceived me."</p>
+
+<p>No one appeared to be in the cave. Mr. Moncrief had said in his letter
+that he knew about Zuker's movements. Could it have been that he had
+been arrested? It was just possible. Anyhow, he would like to have a
+nearer view of the cave. There could be no danger, and if there were, it
+was worth the risk.</p>
+
+<p>So Paul rose from his hiding-place behind the curtain, and stepped
+cautiously into the cave. The guns and cutlasses were still hanging on
+the wall, but the models and designs had gone, and the photographic
+camera had gone from its niche.</p>
+
+<p>There was a passage on the other side of the chamber similar to the one
+through which he had come.</p>
+
+<p>"Where does that lead to, I wonder?" thought Paul.</p>
+
+<p>There could be no harm in exploring it a little way. He might just as
+well know where it led to, if it were possible to find out. The
+information might be useful. Paul was animated with the adventurous
+spirit of the explorer, which knows no rest until it is satisfied. He
+crossed to the opening. At the moment he reached it, a figure emerged
+from the darkness, and confronted him. It was Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>It was so sudden, so unexpected, that Paul could not move. He stood
+there as one rooted to the spot. Before he could move, the man had
+sprung upon him with the swiftness of a tiger, and seizing him by the
+throat, dragged him to the light.</p>
+
+<p>"You!" he cried. "The boy from Garside. Your name is&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Percival," gasped Paul, as the fierce grip relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Percival. <i>Ach Himmel!</i> It is Fate itself."</p>
+
+<p>He had in turn shrunk back, as though Paul were no longer a being of
+flesh and blood, but a phantom. Then he murmured hoarsely to himself:
+"Weevil was right. The hand of a Higher than man is in it."</p>
+
+<p>In the uncertain light he had not at first recognized Paul; but now he
+saw him, and knew that just as he had once been face to face with the
+father at a supreme crisis in his life, now he was face to face with the
+son. Had Paul seized that moment of stupefaction, he might have escaped,
+but he made no effort. And the moment passed.</p>
+
+<p>"Who showed you this place? Who brought you here?" demanded Zuker,
+himself again.</p>
+
+<p>"No one; I found it out myself."</p>
+
+<p>"How?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is my secret."</p>
+
+<p>Zuker's hand went to his breast, to a weapon concealed there.</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful how you answer, boy. You're not now in school, and you
+haven't a school-master to deal with. Is this the first time you've been
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>Zuker started in spite of himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Not the first time! How many times have you been here before then, may
+I ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Once."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ach!</i> Now I understand. It is through you my plans have been defeated.
+It is through you my man&mdash;<i>mein</i> Brockman&mdash;has been arrested. It is
+through you that I have scarcely dared venture from this hole for two
+days past. You have been a mean, dirty spy."</p>
+
+<p>"As you were to my father when I was a child." The words were upon
+Paul's lips, but he forced them back. Then aloud, "I've not been a spy.
+I've told no one."</p>
+
+<p>Zuker looked searchingly into Paul's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Who has told, then&mdash;who has given information to the police, to what is
+called your Secret Investigation Department&mdash;if it is not you?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul was silent. He now understood Mr. Moncrief's letter. It must have
+been Mr. Weevil who had given information to Mr. Moncrief, it must have
+been he who had kept him informed of Zuker's doings. Mr. Weevil was not
+a traitor to his country, after all. Nay, it seemed as though he had
+striven, in his peculiar way, to defend it against traitors.</p>
+
+<p>"Silent, eh? I can see what you've told me is false. You have worked
+against me from the first. It was you who outwitted me once before. It
+was you who got that packet through to the man who has always stood
+between me and my plans, the Admiralty man, Moncrief. All would have
+been over; I should have got all through had it not been for that. <i>Ach
+Himmel</i>, you will not have the chance of blabbing any more secrets! I
+have you now&mdash;tight in the Fox's Hole&mdash;and you will not leave it alive.
+Let me see what your school is good for. I will give you five minutes
+to get ready for <i>sterblichkeit</i>. <i>Ach</i>, it is a long word! Do you know
+what it means?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew what it meant. It was the German word for mortality.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," answered Paul simply. "That is longer than my father had
+when he was called upon to die, and it should be enough for me."</p>
+
+<p>Zuker's hand trembled as it fingered the weapon concealed in his breast.
+Paul closed his eyes, and repeated in a low, yet clear voice:</p>
+
+<p>"'Our Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom
+come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day
+our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that
+trespass against us&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Halt! Stop!" cried Zuker hoarsely. "You spoke of your father just
+now&mdash;how he died. Tell me quickly how it was."</p>
+
+<p>"He was drowned, in saving the life of a man who had robbed him."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ach!</i> And do you know who that man was?"</p>
+
+<p>No answer came from Paul's lips for several seconds, seconds that seemed
+as hours. Deep silence reigned in the cave, then it was broken by the
+clear voice of the boy:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I know who that man was. He called himself Israel Zuker."</p>
+
+<p>Zuker could not repress a movement of astonishment as Paul pronounced
+his name.</p>
+
+<p>"Knowing this&mdash;knowing that it was through me your father lost his life,
+you could yet say that prayer&mdash;'As we forgive them that trespass against
+us'? You are as brave as your father was," came hoarsely from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I could wish no greater praise than that," answered Paul. "But I had
+not finished. Shall I go on?"</p>
+
+<p>"You need not be in so great a hurry. Wait till I tell you. I have one
+or two more questions to ask you. How did you come to know that I was
+the man who spied upon your father&mdash;the man through whom he lost his
+life&mdash;the man&mdash;&mdash;<i>Ach!</i>" He stopped himself suddenly. His brow darkened;
+the veins stood out in knots upon his forehead. "Fool! Why didn't I
+guess it? I see it all now. It is your master&mdash;it is Weevil who told
+you. It is Weevil who has betrayed me."</p>
+
+<p>His hand went to the weapon in his breast again.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you are mistaken; Mr. Weevil has told me nothing. He has not
+betrayed you."</p>
+
+<p>"You are telling me false. You are trying to mislead me. Beware! No one
+else knew my secret. Who else could tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I learned it from a little fellow whom I loved as a brother, and who
+loved me as a brother, too. Alas, he is now dead! We called him
+Hibbert."</p>
+
+<p>"Hibbert&mdash;my son!" Zuker's voice softened wonderfully as the words
+passed his lips; then it hardened again, as he demanded: "How was it my
+son came to betray me?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was after that accident on the river. Perhaps you have forgotten? It
+was I who helped him back to the school. And the dear little chap was
+always so grateful for it&mdash;always made such an awful fuss about it. That
+was his way&mdash;ever so much too sensitive and grateful. Poor little chap!"</p>
+
+<p>Paul brushed the back of his hand quickly across his eyes; and somehow
+the man did the same.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was often with him after that," he presently continued. "He
+felt that he would never get well, I think, and I could see that he
+suffered a good deal from something he had on his mind. I never guessed
+what it was; but one night, when I was sitting beside him, he told me
+that he could not sleep because of it, and he felt that if he didn't
+speak, God would never forgive him. That's how it was he came to tell me
+that you, Israel Zuker, were his father."</p>
+
+<p>"I see&mdash;I see! Now I understand!"</p>
+
+<p>Zuker strode across and across the chamber, as though uncertain how to
+act. At length he disappeared into one of the recesses of the cave,
+evidently used as a storehouse, and almost as instantly appeared again
+with a coil of rope in his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"For all you did for my son, I spare your life; but I must keep you here
+for a few hours. My safety depends on it."</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew that it was useless to protest. He knew well enough that
+Zuker had the power of shooting him as a dog, and he was not the man to
+stand any nonsense. So he allowed himself to be bound; and when he had
+bound him, Zuker brought out some cushions from the recess, and placed
+Paul on them.</p>
+
+<p>"There! I am making you as comfortable as circumstances will permit," he
+said. "<i>Gute nacht</i>&mdash;good-night. Remember Israel Zuker again in your
+prayers. <i>Ach!</i> it was good of you to be kind to my boy when others so
+mocked and hated him. Adieu!"</p>
+
+<p>With these words, he passed swiftly out by the way he had come. Paul
+rested for a few minutes, thinking quietly over the strange interview
+through which he had just passed. It was kind of Zuker to spare his
+life, but he did not much appreciate the prospect of lying there, bound
+hand and foot, for several hours&mdash;nay, it might so happen that Zuker
+would never return.</p>
+
+<p>His last words had an odd sound. It was difficult to know what he meant
+by them. He might have an intention of returning, or he might not.
+Perhaps he was uncertain himself. He knew well enough that he might be
+arrested at any moment, just as his confederate had been. In that case
+he (Paul) might lie there, bound hand and foot, for days and nights,
+gradually getting weaker and weaker, and finally dying of starvation.
+The prospect was not a very agreeable one.</p>
+
+<p>So Paul determined to do his best to free himself of the coils that
+bound him. He was a strong boy, and struggled might and main to loosen
+them; but Zuker seemed to have tied them with devilish cunning. Struggle
+as Paul would, he was unable to loosen them. And the more he struggled,
+the more the rope cut into his flesh.</p>
+
+<p>"My! The tightest knots I've ever struck," said Paul, as he lay back
+gasping.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul!"</p>
+
+<p>What was that? An echo, or some one calling him by name?</p>
+
+<p>"Paul!"</p>
+
+<p>There it was again. Surely it was some one calling him. He tried to turn
+his quivering limbs in the direction whence the voice came. Was he awake
+or was he dreaming?</p>
+
+<p>The figure of a boy was creeping towards him&mdash;creeping, as it seemed
+to him, from the shadows in the tunnel. Who&mdash;who was it? Was it
+really a being of flesh and blood? At first it seemed to him that
+it must be the wraith of the little fellow about whom he had been
+speaking&mdash;Hibbert&mdash;but even as the thought filtered through his mind the
+boy was kneeling beside him, looking anxiously into his face.</p>
+
+<p>It was Moncrief minor.</p>
+
+<p>"Harry!" cried Paul in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you all right?" came in a whisper from the boy.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus5" id="illus5"></a>
+<img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"<span class="smcap">The boy was kneeling beside him,&mdash;it was Moncrief
+minor.... 'Are you all right?' came in a whisper from the boy.</span>"</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Right enough, but not altogether comfortable. Where in the name of
+wonder did you spring from?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is there any chance of that man you called Zuker coming back?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; you may be sure of that."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, first, let me get that rope off."</p>
+
+<p>Paul, as may be imagined, was by no means opposed to that proceeding. So
+Harry drew out his pocket-knife and promptly severed his bonds.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's better," cried Paul, springing to his feet and stretching
+his limbs. "It's worth while being tied up, so as to feel how nice it is
+to be free again. Now perhaps you'll tell me how you got here?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's really no fear of that man, Zuker, coming back?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I'm sure of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll explain. First of all, I must tell you that I've done a mean
+thing. You lost a letter when that scrimmage took place between you and
+Stan in the Common Room. I found it, and seeing that it was from my
+father, read it; then I was too ashamed to give it back to you, so I
+kept it. Hearing that there'd been a meeting about you in the Forum, I
+took the letter to Stan and showed it to him. As I came away from
+interviewing Stan, I saw you hurrying through the gates. You looked
+round, and seemed anxious that no one should see you. That made me
+curious. I'd just been reading my father's letter to you&mdash;remember. I'd
+begun to see there was some mystery which wanted clearing up. Why
+shouldn't I have a hand in it? I asked myself. So forgive me, Paul, I
+followed you."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was silent. How could he blame him? Was it not the same spirit of
+curiosity which had first led him to that place?</p>
+
+<p>"It was fortunately dusk, and I took good care that you shouldn't see
+me," continued Harry. "Besides, you seemed to be so taken up with your
+own thoughts that you scarcely looked round once when you had gained the
+common. It was easy following you after that. I was never so puzzled in
+my life when I saw you creeping about amongst the bushes, then disappear
+through the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"I was so close to you then, that I saw the exact place where you had
+disappeared, so that it did not take me long to find the opening to the
+tunnel. I must say that I funked following you farther; but my curiosity
+grew. I was on the verge of a big discovery. If I followed you, I should
+find out the secret which would explain the mystery about you, and set
+you right with the school. Believe me, Paul, that was what I longed for,
+and I don't think that anything short of that would have made me go
+farther, and so I felt my way along the tunnel until I could just see
+you stretched at full length beside the curtains at the entrance to this
+place."</p>
+
+<p>Paul recalled the sounds he had heard as he made his way along the
+tunnel. His hearing had not deceived him after all.</p>
+
+<p>"I was still more amazed when I saw that, I can tell you. I was struck
+all of a heap," went on Harry. "What were you up to? What were you doing
+there? You seemed to be watching for somebody. Who? I was burning. I got
+more and more curious. All thought of turning back had gone. I must find
+out what it all meant. So, when you rose to your feet, and stepped
+cautiously into this chamber, I just as cautiously crept to the place
+where you had been lying, and watched you moving about. Then I saw the
+man you called Zuker enter, and all that went on after.</p>
+
+<p>"It was fearful, Paul. I saw you were in a fix, but I could do nothing
+to help you. Once I tried to cry out. It was when that man used the long
+foreign word. I did not understand what it meant at first, though you
+seemed to; but presently, when you began to say 'Our Father,' I knew
+what it meant. Then it was I tried to cry out, but no word came from my
+parched throat. I think it must have been God who prevented me from
+crying out, for had I done so, it might have been worse for both of us.</p>
+
+<p>"A minute later I could see that a great change had come over the man
+when you began speaking about your father and Hibbert. Then I was
+knocked all of a heap again when I learned that poor little Hibbert was
+the man's son, and that you knew it. I think that the time I passed
+while I was watching and listening behind the curtain was the most awful
+I have ever been through&mdash;yes, worse than the time on the raft, and
+that's saying a great deal; but there was one good thing about it&mdash;I was
+beginning to see how we had all wronged you at Garside&mdash;what a noble
+fellow you really are, Paul."</p>
+
+<p>"Humbug! Get on."</p>
+
+<p>"There's little more to tell. I didn't so much mind when the man bound
+you, especially as I saw that he was going to leave you. I waited till
+he had gone&mdash;long enough to make sure that he didn't mean popping in his
+head again; then I crept from my hiding-place. The rest you know. I hope
+you're not sorry I followed you?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul began to think that the hand of God was in this, as it had been in
+so many other things. It must have been Something Higher than mere
+chance which had prompted Harry to follow him to that place.</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven only knows what might have happened to me, Harry, if you hadn't
+followed me. But come, we mustn't waste any more time. We don't want to
+spend the night in this place."</p>
+
+<p>"Not quite, though I would not mind exploring it some other time,"
+exclaimed Harry, gazing round the chamber curiously. "Plunger would give
+something to strike on a place like this. It's chalks better than desert
+islands. Where does that other passage-way lead to?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul had more than once put the same question to him self. That place of
+mystery had often been in his thoughts since the day he had first
+visited it, and frequently had he asked himself&mdash;Where does it lead to
+on the other side? He had now seen clearly enough that there must be
+some way out on the other side, for Zuker had gone that way. If he
+could only find out, the information might be of some service to Harry's
+father.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, Harry; but I'd very much like to find out. Would you mind
+waiting here for a few minutes? I won't be long."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Going to explore&mdash;just a little way. The coast's clear."</p>
+
+<p>"Going to explore? Well, then, I do mind waiting here. If you mean
+exploring, I mean going with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, Harry, we'll explore together."</p>
+
+<p>So the two boys passed together through the passage on the other side of
+the chamber.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BURNING SHIP</h3>
+
+
+<p>The two boys had not gone very far before they came to a pause. It was
+impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them because of the
+darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's try to get a light," suggested Paul. "We can get one, I think, in
+the place we've just come from."</p>
+
+<p>They returned to the chamber. Paul entered the recess from which Zuker
+had brought the rope and the cushions, and found that it was quite a
+storehouse; one part of it for provisions, tinned meats, fruits, fish;
+another for wood, tools, weapons, models; a third, for a curiously mixed
+wardrobe, which Paul guessed served the purpose of disguise. Here he
+found a lantern and matches, and thus provided with a light, they
+resumed their way.</p>
+
+<p>The gallery or tunnel along which they now passed was about two hundred
+feet long. The width, as Paul roughly judged, was about thirteen feet,
+narrowing to some six or seven feet at the top. It had been cut through
+the chalk bed, at a depth of about six feet below the sand which covered
+it. At the end of this gallery were two passages, extending right and
+left. Passing down the former, they found it blocked by heaps of sand
+and chalk.</p>
+
+<p>"It's quite certain we can't get out that way, Harry," said Paul; "we'd
+better try the other."</p>
+
+<p>So, retracing their footsteps once more, they passed along the other
+passage. It was not so wide as the one they had already traversed, but
+the way was clear for a hundred yards or so; then the tunnel came
+abruptly to an end.</p>
+
+<p>Paul regarded the wall in wonder. There was no way through it. Where,
+then, had Zuker gone? How had he managed to get out? Paul held the
+lantern up and examined the roof. It was clear to see that he was
+standing below what had once been the shaft to the tunnel. There were
+footholes in the sides.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, there's the way out! Hold the lantern, Harry, while I try to find
+the open sesame," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>Harry took the lantern, and Paul quickly made his way by means of the
+footholes to the top. He could then see that there was a square space
+which, though similar in appearance to the rest of the gallery,
+concealed the entrance to the shaft. He pushed it upward. It gave
+easily. It was a trap-door, leading into a square, ramshackle shed!</p>
+
+<p>Paul made his way through into the shed, and a minute later Harry
+followed his example. They closed the trap-door, which then formed part
+of the floor, and completely concealed the opening into the shaft.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if that doesn't beat all!" exclaimed Harry, as the trap-door
+fell. "Mr. Zuker and his confederates must have been very tricky. No one
+would imagine what's beneath this old shed. Hallo! What's that?"</p>
+
+<p>As Harry spoke a lurid gleam of light lit up the semi-darkness of the
+shed; only for an instant; then it as quickly died out.</p>
+
+<p>"Seems like a fire somewhere," said Paul, as he tried to open the door
+of the shed; but it would not open. It was locked on the outside.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have to get through the window, Harry."</p>
+
+<p>There was a small window on the right of the shed, just wide enough to
+get through.</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Follow my leader, Paul."</p>
+
+<p>Paul soon mounted to the window and climbed through. Harry quickly
+followed him. As he reached the ground there came another lurid gleam of
+light; then it died out as quickly as before.</p>
+
+<p>"There it goes again, Paul. What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Paul was asking himself the same question. What was it? Whence did the
+light come? It was a dark night&mdash;no moon and few stars. But in the
+distance they could see lights flitting about like will-o'-the-wisps
+from the mastheads of ships; so they knew they were not far from the
+Medway.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought so. We're close to the river," said Paul. "Now that we've found
+out all that we can, we'd better make for Garside."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Hallo! there it goes again! Why&mdash;why, it's a ship on fire!"
+exclaimed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>It was now clear enough to see that Harry was right. A ship was on fire.
+The flames, at first spasmodic, uncertain, had now gained a complete
+hold of the ship, and were shooting upward, like fiery serpents, into
+the sky.</p>
+
+<p>All thought of Garside vanished from the boys' minds as they raced
+towards the river. As they drew nearer, they could see that the unusual
+spectacle had already attracted a great throng of spectators to the
+banks.</p>
+
+<p>Little wonder, for as the flames crept upward to the rigging, writhing
+inward and outward to the arms, it was a grand, if terrible sight. And
+there was pathos in it, too; for the ship on fire was one of the great
+wooden ships in the Navy of the past. Its day of action&mdash;of
+fighting&mdash;had long since passed. So, moored in midstream, it had been
+used as a storeship.</p>
+
+<p>The signal-lights "Ship on Fire" flashed along the river, and a
+picket-boat from a flagship, with other boats, approached as near as
+they could to the burning ship. Was there anybody on board? It seemed
+not&mdash;so far, at least, as could be seen.</p>
+
+<p>But suddenly a cry of horror went up from the crowd. A man had suddenly
+made his appearance on the deck. He rushed about like a hunted fox,
+trying to elude its pursuers; then, finding it impossible, flung
+himself, with a strange cry that long haunted Paul's ears, into the
+river.</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew that the man was Zuker. The picket-boat tried to reach him,
+but could not. The fire had enveloped the sides of the old ship, and
+shot out tongues of flame from every porthole. For the space of a minute
+Zuker's figure was seen silhouetted in flame against the darkness. Then
+the waters closed over him, and he was seen no more.</p>
+
+<p>"That&mdash;that was Zuker. I'm sure of it," Paul whispered to Harry, when he
+could speak.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it looked like him, too," said Harry, in an awestruck
+whisper. "What could he be doing on that ship?"</p>
+
+<p>"Up to no good, I'm afraid; but good or ill, his work is ended now."</p>
+
+<p>Zuker had at last come to his death by the element from which Paul's
+father had saved him so long ago.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I don't think he'll trouble anybody again," answered Harry, as he
+slipped his arm, with a shudder, through Paul's.</p>
+
+<p>The flames from the middle of the ship were now leaping fifty feet into
+the air. The river manuals played upon it, but made little or no
+impression. It seemed to hiss back contempt and defiance as the water
+fell.</p>
+
+<p>The excitement of the spectators grew, for a new and terrible source of
+danger had revealed itself. The chains by which the old ship was moored
+were beginning to give way. If that happened, she might drift, a mass of
+flame, against any one of the warships lying in her path.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Paul, this business may get father into a mess," Harry
+whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had forgotten, for the time, Mr. Moncrief's connection with the
+Government dockyard. Harry's words reminded him. A dread fear took
+possession of him. Perhaps the fire had all been designed&mdash;perhaps it
+was the work of an incendiary, and that incendiary Mr. Moncrief's
+enemy&mdash;Zuker. So long as the fire was limited to the old wooden ship it
+would not much matter, but if it once got from its moorings, it was
+impossible to say where the mischief would end.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you needn't worry about your father, Harry," Paul answered, putting
+on his most cheerful voice and manner. "No one could blame him for a
+ship catching fire."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know so much about that. Pater's held responsible for almost
+everything. It's a great shame, that's what it is."</p>
+
+<p>Paul thought the same, but did not venture to express an opinion. A buzz
+of excitement from the crowd broke in upon his meditations.</p>
+
+<p>Looking in the direction in which all eyes were turned, he saw that a
+gunboat was steaming along the river. It was making for the flaming
+hulk.</p>
+
+<p>"What's it going to do?" cried Harry, clutching Paul's arm excitedly.
+"It'll be right into the burning ship."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was too intent on watching the man[oe]uvres of the gunboat to
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, when it had got to within one hundred yards of the burning
+ship, it stopped and opened fire, just as though it had entered into
+action. Its target was the old ship&mdash;a mass of flame from bow to stern.
+The first shell, missing its mark, went hissing into the river. Jets of
+water shot upward into the air and fell in a sparkling cascade.</p>
+
+<p>Boom! A flash of light from the gunboat, a whiff of smoke. This time the
+shell finds its target. Myriads of sparks are whirled in a mad dance to
+the heavens, then drop again like golden rain into the river. Shell
+followed shell. The old warship, engaged in its last great battle,
+fought grimly on. Like the old Guard, it refused to surrender. Twelve
+shots had been fired. Raked from bow to stern, it was a pathetic
+spectacle, like some huge leviathan lying wounded to death on the water,
+with its undaunted heart throbbing a requiem.</p>
+
+<p>Shell could not vanquish it, so a charge of guncotton was exploded
+immediately beneath it; then the old warship gave a lurch. There was a
+flash of light&mdash;its last dying effort. After, darkness. The great tongue
+of flame was engulfed in the waters.</p>
+
+<p>The boys had been so absorbed in the terrible spectacle that they had
+taken no heed of time. But when the ship had gone down, they found that
+it was ten o'clock. Garside was a good three miles distant, so that it
+would be close upon eleven before they reached the school again.</p>
+
+<p>Three or four search-parties had been formed under the masters, and they
+met one of these as they neared the gates. It had been decided between
+Paul and Harry that nothing should be said about their adventures in the
+cave until Paul had had an explanation with Mr. Weevil. There was, of
+course, no reason why they should not speak of the exciting spectacle
+they had witnessed on the river.</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been a remarkable sight," admitted Mr. Travers, the head
+of the search-party, "but I don't think Mr. Weevil is likely to accept
+it as an excuse for your long absence from the school. Besides, you had
+no business to take with you a junior boy."</p>
+
+<p>Harry was about to explain that he had followed of his own accord, but a
+glance from Paul kept him silent. When they reached the school, they
+found Mr. Weevil awaiting them in the hall. He seemed to know that
+something unusual had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"Come to my room, Percival," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Percival followed him to his room, just as he had done on that day when
+Hibbert died.</p>
+
+<p>"Something has happened. What is it?" he demanded, as he closed the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>There was no need for secrecy longer, so Paul told the master
+everything&mdash;how he had discovered Hibbert's parentage; how he had
+discovered the cave, and all the events that had happened in the train
+of these discoveries up to the moment of Zuker's death.</p>
+
+<p>"Zuker dead!" exclaimed the master, when Paul came to this part of his
+story. "You are sure of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"As certain as I can be of anything, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil paced up and down the room with his arms behind him. It was
+very clear to Paul to observe that he was very much agitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Dead! dead!" he kept repeating; then suddenly stopped, and confronting
+Paul astonished him by abruptly demanding: "And what do you think of
+me&mdash;eh? What do you think of your master&mdash;eh? You think him a precious
+scoundrel&mdash;eh? You think that he ought to be with Zuker in the
+river&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PETITION&mdash;WHAT BEFELL IT</h3>
+
+
+<p>The master put the questions&mdash;the questions which formed so strong an
+indictment against himself&mdash;with grim solemnity. Paul scarcely knew how
+to answer him, so was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" persisted Mr. Weevil.</p>
+
+<p>"I must say that at one time I was suspicious of you, sir. I thought you
+were in league with traitors against your country&mdash;against England."</p>
+
+<p>"When did your opinion alter?"</p>
+
+<p>"When I heard you in the cave appealing to Zuker to give up his scheme;
+when I heard you telling him that the hand of a Higher than man was in
+it. Then I remembered that however stern you had been to others, you had
+been kind and tender to Hibbert, and it slowly dawned upon me that it
+was for poor Hibbert's sake you kept in with Zuker, that for his sake
+you were playing a part you did not care for."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. I'm glad you've done me justice in your own mind, Percival,"
+answered the master, with more feeling than he was in the habit of
+displaying. "You have guessed my motive precisely. It was for Hibbert's
+sake&mdash;the son of the sister I loved&mdash;that I kept on friendly terms with
+Zuker. But my duty to Hibbert&mdash;my love for him&mdash;did not make me blind to
+the interests of my country. All along I have been in communication with
+the Moncriefs. It was I who first communicated with Mr. Henry Moncrief,
+in cipher, the information of Zuker's arrival in England. It was
+arranged, however, that Zuker was to be allowed to develop his plans,
+along with his confederates, before any action was taken to checkmate
+him. The Admiralty wished to obtain complete information of all the
+details of the scheme, and I alone was in the position of giving it
+them. First of all, however, I made my terms with the Admiralty. They
+were these: When Zuker's plans were developed, they were at liberty to
+take what action they pleased to counteract those plans, and arrest any
+accomplice who might be engaged in work with Zuker, but I made this
+proviso, that no step should be taken to arrest Zuker himself, without
+my knowledge and sanction. Furthermore, that in return for the
+information I was able to furnish as to every detail of the plot, I was
+to be permitted in the last resort to warn Zuker, so that he might
+escape to his native country, if he cared to.</p>
+
+<p>"In that interview you overheard, I made my first strong appeal to him.
+Unfortunately it was not successful, and worse than that, he became
+suspicious of me. The death of dear little Hibbert took away the only
+link that bound me to Zuker. One or two of his confederates were
+arrested, and he himself became conscious that the net was closing round
+himself. Your appearance in his hiding-place must have brought that home
+to him. What happened after that I can only guess. I have two
+theories&mdash;the first, that, in escaping by the river, he might have taken
+refuge for a time on the old battleship, and was in hiding at the time
+when the fire broke out. The other theory is that, recognizing that his
+schemes had been a complete failure, he deliberately set fire to the
+ship, and perished in the flames. He who knows the motives as well as
+the actions of all men, will alone know which of these theories is the
+right one. God be merciful to him, as to me, miserable sinner."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil stood with bowed head. And as he breathed, thus reverently,
+the response he had so often heard, Paul felt his mother's hand stealing
+into his, as it had so often stolen into it in the village church in
+days gone by, when the good vicar read the Litany, and prayed for
+deliverance from "lightning and tempest, from plague, pestilence, and
+famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death." The man who had
+brought about "the sudden death" of his father, had ended his with
+tragic swiftness, and now stood before the Judge of all. The time for
+the last great trial had come for Israel Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>"Before Him&mdash;before the Judge of all men," said Mr. Weevil, at length
+breaking the silence, "I hope to justify myself for what I have done, as
+well as for what I have left undone, but in the meantime I shall never
+forget the part that you have played, Percival. It is true, profoundly
+true, that no good deed is ever lost. Your kindness to Hibbert will ever
+be a sacred memory to me. Good-night, Percival, and God bless you."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night sir."</p>
+
+<p>And Paul, with his heart very full, turned from the room.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul went out, Mr. Weevil did not retire to rest. He was one of
+those men who require very little sleep. He unlocked a drawer in his
+desk, and took from it several loose sheets of paper, with entries on
+them. These he regarded closely for a moment or two, then leaned
+reflectively back in his chair, with eyes closed. Then he looked at the
+pages again, together with some memoranda jotted on a separate sheet of
+paper. His scrutiny ended, he put them back into the drawer, and locked
+them up again.</p>
+
+<p>Having done this, he took up a sheet of foolscap, on which was written,
+in the form of a petition, the resolution of the Fifth calling upon Mr.
+Weevil to expel Percival from Garside. To this petition were attached
+the names of the mover and seconder of the resolution&mdash;Stanley Moncrief
+and Parfitt&mdash;followed by the names of the other boys in the Form, with
+the exception of Waterman.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil had not yet answered this unusual petition, so he took up a
+pen and paper and wrote:</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Weevil's compliments, and he will be pleased to meet the Fifth, and
+go into their petition to-morrow. As so delicate a matter cannot be
+discussed before the whole school, the form will return to the
+class-room, where the master will come to them at the end of the day's
+work. One last proviso, as it is the conduct of Percival which has been
+impugned, it will, of course, be necessary for him to be present at the
+inquiry, so that he may be heard in his own defence."</p>
+
+<p>This note he folded up, placed in an envelope, and directed to Hasluck,
+the head of the Form. The following morning it was delivered to Hasluck
+by Bax, the porter. Having read it, Hasluck passed it round the Form.
+Waterman was next to Percival. Instead of passing it to him, he just
+glanced at it and passed it back to Parfitt with a yawn.</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't interest me. More in your line, Parfitt."</p>
+
+<p>Waterman, in this dexterous manner, escaped the painful duty of passing
+on a note for which he was in no way responsible.</p>
+
+<p>As he afterwards said, "he liked to see others troubling over their own
+underhand business."</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt bit his lip, then, without a word, handed it to Paul. Paul read
+it. He had no difficulty in understanding its meaning. Harry had told
+him about the meeting that had been held about him. This letter was the
+result of it.</p>
+
+<p>Adopting Parfitt's own tactics, he handed it back without a word, but he
+could not help stealing a glance at Stanley. His eyes were heavy, as
+though from want of sleep. He looked quite haggard and ill. He kept his
+eyes away from Paul, as though uncertain as to himself. He looked very
+miserable, and, indeed, he was even more miserable than he looked.</p>
+
+<p>At the close of school that day, the Fifth passed back to their
+class-room. Soon after, Mr. Weevil entered. He looked cold, stern,
+implacable&mdash;a different man from the one Paul had seen the previous
+night speaking in tremulous tones about Hibbert. Those little human
+traits seemed to have vanished with the night. He was no longer the man,
+but the judge.</p>
+
+<p>"Step forward, Percival," he said briefly.</p>
+
+<p>Paul stepped forward.</p>
+
+<p>"You know the charge against you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir; I've come to hear."</p>
+
+<p>"The charge is in this petition," said the master, taking up the
+petition, which he unfolded and placed on the desk. "I needn't read it,
+but I can tell you briefly what the charge is. The charge is that you
+connived with the boys of a rival college&mdash;St. Bede's&mdash;to have the flag,
+which is held in so much honour and esteem here, stolen from the tower."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. Anything more?" asked Paul, as the master paused and glanced
+down at the petition.</p>
+
+<p>"The petition further alleges that having placed this dishonour on the
+school, you connived with the enemy to keep it by them till it suited
+your time and purpose, and that then you arranged for its return."</p>
+
+<p>"Time and purpose?" repeated Paul. "What purpose?"</p>
+
+<p>"What purpose?" repeated the master, glancing again at the petition. "It
+is clearly enough set forth. Listen. 'Percival had made enemies of his
+Form, and had looked for his friends at St. Bede's. His object in
+getting back the flag was to try to regain at one stroke some of his
+lost popularity.' Is that clear enough?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite clear, sir. What followed?"</p>
+
+<p>"A resolution was moved and carried, with only one dissentient, that you
+should be expelled from the school."</p>
+
+<p>"Who&mdash;who moved the resolution?" asked Percival, with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it worth while my giving names?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to know, sir, if you would be kind enough."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil glanced at the names. He did not answer. The silence was
+broken by Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"I moved the resolution, Percival&mdash;Paul!" he cried, in a voice that
+seemed to be choking him. "I did you an injustice before all the Form. I
+now ask your pardon before all the Form. I'm ashamed of myself&mdash;ashamed
+that I so degraded myself as to move that resolution. My eyes were shut.
+Now they're open. I've been groping about in the dark. Now I'm in the
+light. I was a fool ever to doubt you, but appearances were so against
+you. It was your turning away from Wyndham at the gravel-pits that so
+rankled in my mind, and&mdash;and your friendly meetings with him after. I
+did not know&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Stop! Not quite so fast!" commanded Mr. Weevil. Stanley had poured out
+at a feverish rate the words that had been burning at his heart
+throughout the whole of the night and day. "Do I understand that you,
+Moncrief major, who proposed this resolution, now wish to withdraw it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; every word of it. I have wronged Percival&mdash;deeply wronged
+him, and before all the Form I ask his pardon."</p>
+
+<p>Paul's heart leapt with joy. He cared little what the others might
+think. Stanley had come round of his own accord. He had voluntarily
+asked his pardon. Paul grasped the hand stretched out to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I see that it was you, Parfitt, who seconded this resolution, asking
+that Percival should be expelled from the school. Is it your wish to
+withdraw also?" asked the master.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not," said Parfitt indignantly. "I'm not going to turn tail
+because Moncrief has. If Moncrief has sold me, I'm not going to sell all
+the other fellows who signed that petition."</p>
+
+<p>A murmur of approval came from "the other fellows," except Waterman. He
+greeted it with the customary yawn.</p>
+
+<p>"You still hold to your wish that Percival should be expelled from
+Garside?" asked Mr. Weevil.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"You understand that expelling a scholar from Garside is a very serious
+matter. It is a grave stigma placed on him at the commencement of his
+career&mdash;a stigma which clings to him when he goes from school into the
+sterner battle of life. I'm bound to impress this upon you, Parfitt, so
+that you may understand the gravity of the step you wish me to take."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand, sir. We all understand."</p>
+
+<p>"And you decline to do what Moncrief has done&mdash;withdraw from the
+petition?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. We can't stand Percival any longer."</p>
+
+<p>"Hear! hear!" from Newall.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, to the astonishment of the Form, the master opened the desk
+before him, and drew from it a book.</p>
+
+<p>"You know this book?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Know it? They knew it but too well. It was the dreaded Black Book.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a>CHAPTER L</h2>
+
+<h3>FOUND OUT</h3>
+
+
+<p>Why had the master produced the Black Book?</p>
+
+<p>What was it to do with the question whether Percival should or should
+not be expelled?</p>
+
+<p>"You are wondering why I produce the Black Book," said the master
+slowly, as though reading their thoughts. "I will explain&mdash;we have never
+yet discovered who tore out the leaves from this book. It occurred to me
+that before taking the step of expelling Percival from the school, it
+would be as well to make one more effort to find out who is the culprit.</p>
+
+<p>"A few weeks ago, I received an anonymous letter suggesting that
+Percival should be questioned as to what he was doing on the night that
+part of the Black Book, and other documents, disappeared from my desk.
+As a rule, I take no heed of anonymous communications. The testimony of
+any one who is ashamed to put his name to a letter is, as a rule,
+worthless. But I was keenly interested in trying to discover who the
+culprit was who opened my desk, and I thought it just possible that if I
+could only find out the writer of this anonymous letter, it might lead
+to other discoveries which would throw light upon the theft of my
+notes."</p>
+
+<p>The boys listened intently. What did it mean? Was yet another and more
+serious charge to be made against Percival?</p>
+
+<p>"The letter was in a disguised hand, like most anonymous letters," the
+master proceeded; "but a master becomes a bit of an expert in
+handwriting, so, with the help of Mr. Travers here, the master of your
+Form, I was not long in finding out who wrote the anonymous letter. It
+was written by Parfitt."</p>
+
+<p>The accusation was made slowly, deliberately, as by one who makes sure
+of his facts before speaking. It fell as a bomb in the midst of the
+listening boys. Parfitt turned to an ashen hue, and muttered something
+between his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Speak up, sir! Please not to mutter," commanded Mr. Weevil, turning to
+Parfitt. "Do you deny that this letter"&mdash;he held up the anonymous
+letter, with its cramped, disguised handwriting&mdash;"is the work of your
+hand?"</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt held up his head, and put on a bold front.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir; I don't deny it. That letter was written by me. As there were
+other things coming out against Percival, I thought it only right that
+you should make some inquiry into what he was doing on the night when
+the pages were torn from the Black Book. I did not want to push myself
+forward. I thought the inquiry would be better made by you; but as no
+steps seem to have been taken to find out what Percival did, I don't see
+why I should keep back what I know any longer."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what is it? What do you know? I am here to learn all I can."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, on the night that the pages were torn from the Black Book, I
+saw Percival get out of bed, slip into some of his things, and out of
+the dormitory. I saw him steal along the corridor, for what purpose I
+couldn't guess. I made a pretty good guess the next day."</p>
+
+<p>"Your guess was that Percival opened my desk, and stole the papers?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe he did, sir. For what else could he have stolen from the
+dormitory in the dead of night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, but what could be his purpose? Can you explain that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's easy enough explained. There were entries against himself
+and his friend Moncrief in the book. A serious one had been made against
+Moncrief that very afternoon, for which, you will remember, sir, he was
+sent to Dormitory X."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember&mdash;quite well," said the master. "Well, Percival, what have
+you to say against this last charge?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only that it is as false as the other."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you leave your dormitory that night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; I don't deny that. I did leave my room, but not to steal. I
+left it to go to Moncrief in Dormitory X. I thought the punishment too
+severe, sir, if you'll pardon me for saying so, so I thought that I
+would keep him company. It was wrong of me, I know; but I did not give
+it much thought at the time."</p>
+
+<p>"And I can confirm every word that Percival has said!" exclaimed
+Stanley. "He came to me that night&mdash;to Dormitory X."</p>
+
+<p>"Pshaw!" cried Newall, taking up Parfitt's case. "How could he get to
+you through the locked door?"</p>
+
+<p>"He didn't get through the door. He came along the parapet, and got
+through the dormer window."</p>
+
+<p>Blank amazement fell on the group.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all very well to say that. Any one could say that," cried Parfitt;
+"but we want something better than that. We want proof!"</p>
+
+<p>"If you won't take Moncrief's word, I think I can prove it by Mr.
+Weevil," said Paul, turning to the master. "As I passed by the window of
+your room, sir, I took the liberty of peeping in. I saw you discussing
+some plans with a friend. Perhaps you can recall it, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Weevil's mind had gone back to that night. He knew well enough to
+whom Paul was referring thus delicately as his friend&mdash;Zuker.</p>
+
+<p>"Percival is right in every particular, but"&mdash;he broke off, as though
+suddenly recalling something&mdash;"there is one thing I ought to say.
+Fancying I heard a noise in Dormitory X that night, I paid it a visit,
+but found nobody there, except Moncrief, and he seemed fast asleep."</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt, who had been looking glum, brightened up at this again.</p>
+
+<p>"Seemed, sir," repeated Stanley, with a smile; "but I was just about as
+wide awake as I am now, and Percival was&mdash;under the bed."</p>
+
+<p>There was a titter of laughter at this piece of information. The ghost
+of a smile played across the stern face of Mr. Weevil.</p>
+
+<p>"I think Percival has made it perfectly clear as to where he was that
+night. You see that he is perfectly innocent of the charge brought
+against him by Parfitt; so we are thrown back into precisely the
+position we were in before. We have still to find out who is the real
+culprit&mdash;who it was opened my desk that night. As Parfitt has failed in
+his purpose, let us put our heads together and see if we can get a
+little nearer the truth. I will try to reconstruct the case for you, as
+the French say. Who was the culprit? What was his motive? His motive was
+to get possession of certain pieces of paper in my desk which gave
+valuable information for a prize competition which was taking place
+amongst the seniors&mdash;the prize, that is to say, to be given by Admiral
+Talbot for the best essay on 'The Invasion of Great Britain.' He did not
+want the Black Book. That would give him no assistance in his essay; but
+what he wanted was to throw suspicion on a certain boy&mdash;also a
+competitor for the prize&mdash;who was absent from his dormitory that night.
+He did this by removing the leaf, amongst others, which referred to the
+boy himself and the detention of his friend in the Punishment Dormitory.
+Am I clear?"</p>
+
+<p>The Form were following Mr. Weevil so closely that they could only
+murmur an assent.</p>
+
+<p>"I have told you about the anonymous letter," continued Mr. Weevil, "and
+the conclusion I had arrived at by the help of Mr. Travers. You have
+seen that that conclusion is correct, for Parfitt has himself admitted
+it. So much is clear. Now follow me a little farther. Not long after
+receiving this anonymous letter, some of the competitors began to send
+in their essays for the Talbot prize. Among others was one from
+Parfitt."</p>
+
+<p>A profound silence fell on the room as the master once more pronounced
+that name. Every eye was turned to Parfitt, who was still doing his best
+to put on a bold face.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a remarkably clever piece of work and would assuredly have won
+the prize. It was too clever, in fact. It contained information which
+astonished me&mdash;information which could not be obtained from the school
+library. It was information, in fact, such as I myself had obtained
+after special research, and which had been embodied in the notes that
+had been stolen from my desk."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean to say that I am the thief&mdash;that I stole your notes!"
+blustered Parfitt.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence, sir!" came the stern voice of the master. "Have the courtesy
+to hear me to the end. I have but little more to add, and then I shall
+be only too pleased to hear anything you may have to say in your
+defence. The way in which the information was used was so ingenious that
+it would have been quite impossible to declare that the writer of this
+essay was the culprit. I was quite certain of it in my own mind, but it
+needed additional proof. How to get it was the next point. In
+consultation with Mr. Travers here, a speedy decision was come to. It
+was of the utmost importance that the innocent should be cleared; the
+guilty punished. A locksmith was called in on the next half-holiday.
+Parfitt's box was opened, its contents examined. At the bottom we
+discovered the missing notes. The pages from the Black Book, as being
+useless, had been destroyed. The same fate would doubtless have followed
+my notes, so soon as the result of the competition was known. I took the
+notes from the box. A facsimile was put in their place. Here are the
+originals."</p>
+
+<p>He held up the notes. All heads were eagerly craned forward to look at
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"These are the originals," repeated the master, when the sensation
+caused by their production had abated. "I doubt not the facsimiles to
+which I have referred will still be found in Parfitt's box. What I
+suggest, therefore, is that he hand over his key to Hasluck, the head of
+this Form, that the porter should then bring the box to this room, and
+that it be opened in the presence of all of you. We shall then see if
+the facsimiles are still there."</p>
+
+<p>Not a word fell from Parfitt's lips in answer to this appeal. At that
+moment he was passing through one of the most terrible ordeals a boy can
+pass through. The silence in the room became painful.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope it won't be needful to call in the locksmith again, Parfitt,"
+said the master. Then in a burst of agony came from the wretched boy's
+lips:</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't open the box. I&mdash;I did it."</p>
+
+<p>He dropped to the form, and covered his ashen face with his hands. Then
+came the master's voice again, with the solemnity of a judge pronouncing
+sentence:</p>
+
+<p>"I did not wish to go through this ignominy, Parfitt, before the whole
+school. That is the reason I confined the inquiry to your Form and this
+room. Everything has been done to spare your feelings, though I cannot
+help saying that you do not seem to have cared very much for the
+feelings of others. I am sorry to say that the sentence you wished
+passed on Percival must be passed on yourself. You can no longer remain
+a scholar at Garside."</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt knew well enough what that meant&mdash;it was a sentence of
+expulsion. He staggered to his feet, and was about to pass out without a
+word, when the voice of Paul brought him to a standstill.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not mind what has been said against me&mdash;indeed, I don't!"
+exclaimed Paul; "we've all made mistakes; so please don't go so far with
+Parfitt. Don't expel him. Give him another chance!"</p>
+
+<p>Parfitt could scarcely believe his ears. The boy whom he had sought to
+expel was taking his part&mdash;pleading that he might remain.</p>
+
+<p>"It is generous of you to plead for him, but after what has happened,
+how is it possible for him to remain?" said the master.</p>
+
+<p>Paul scarcely knew how to answer; but as he stood nonplussed a mist rose
+in the room, and as the mist cleared he saw a garden, with a
+delicate-faced boy, lying in an invalid chair, as though asleep. A
+little wren had perched itself upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Let him stay for&mdash;for Hibbert's sake," came in a gulp.</p>
+
+<p>The master turned his head for a moment. When he once more faced the
+boys, the hard light had vanished from the blinking eyes, and a softer
+light shone there.</p>
+
+<p>"What has happened has not gone beyond this room. The facts, so far,
+have not been disclosed to the whole school," he said. "It may not,
+perhaps, be necessary. I will see what can be done in consultation with
+my colleagues. I trust it may be possible for us to respond to
+Percival's generous appeal. Attention! Half-turn! March!"</p>
+
+<p>And the boys filed slowly from the class-room.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Vacation at last!</p>
+
+<p>To Paul the term through which he had passed was the most memorable in
+his school life, as it was, perhaps, the most memorable in the history
+of the school. He spent a week with the good mother whom he loved, and
+who so loved him. He sat again in the old church with her, and heard
+again the vicar's fervent voice in the Litany:</p>
+
+<p>"From lightning and tempest; from plague, pestilence, and famine; from
+battle and murder, and from sudden death."</p>
+
+<p>In the days gone by he used to wonder how it was that his mother's hand
+used to tremble in his when those solemn words echoed in the church. Now
+he understood, as he knelt once more by her dear side&mdash;none better. The
+last term at Garside had taught him a lesson which would never be erased
+from his mind so long as life lasted.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the week he went to Redmead, in response to the invitation
+which Mr. Walter Moncrief had sent him in that letter to Garside which
+had caused him such heart-burning. Stanley was there to meet him. The
+old friendship between them was resumed. The clouds had passed away,
+leaving them the better, the stronger&mdash;they were once more in the
+sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Moncrief had learnt all that had happened at Garside. Harry
+entertained them at tea-time with his and Plunger's adventures as
+members of the Mystic Order of Beetles, and his sister nearly had a fit
+of apoplexy as he described Plunger crawling on hands and knees round
+the ring while the Mystic Brethren proceeded to initiate him as "a
+brother."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley was the only one who was not infected with Connie's mirth. He
+remained so serious amid the general merriment that Harry suddenly
+brought down his hand upon his shoulder and in a tragic voice declaimed
+the incantation which had made so remarkable an impression upon Plunger:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Beetles of the Mystic Band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wind we round thee hand in hand,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>and so on.</p>
+
+<p>"No, we're not going to send Stan to the Realms of Creepy-Crawley,"
+smiled Connie, putting her arm through her cousin's with an air of
+possession as Harry ended:</p>
+
+<p>"We don't mind Mr. Plunger going there. He'd be quite at home; but not
+Stan."</p>
+
+<p>Stanley smiled, but soon relapsed into his former gravity.</p>
+
+<p>"A penny for your thoughts, Stan!" said Mrs. Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I was only thinking of one of the Beetles&mdash;Wyndham. I was wondering
+whether we should see anything of him during the vac."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you like to meet him?" asked Mr. Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>"Very much."</p>
+
+<p>Paul said nothing; but he felt a keen sense of gratification at the
+words that fell from Stanley. It showed that all animosity towards
+Wyndham had completely vanished, and that he was anxious to meet him
+again, not as an enemy, but on a footing of friendship.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Moncrief was absent for a good part of the next day. On the day
+following he announced that he was going to take them for a drive in the
+wagonette. They were, of course, anxious to know where.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Harry has asked me once or twice whether we couldn't travel over
+some of the ground over which Paul travelled on the night when he broke
+in upon us here at the end of his last vacation. I think this is the
+most favourable opportunity we shall have to carry out his suggestion,
+if you're all agreeable."</p>
+
+<p>Of course they were agreeable. So, early the next morning, the wagonette
+came to the door, and the little party, in the best of spirits, started
+on the drive.</p>
+
+<p>No contrast could have been greater than the contrast between that
+morning of bright sunshine and the night when Paul started from Redmead
+with Mr. Moncrief. On that never-to-be-forgotten night danger seemed to
+be lurking in every hedgerow. The shadows lay thickly across their
+pathway, and the sight of home had never been so dear to Paul as when he
+at length came in sight of it that night. How different it all seemed in
+the bright sunshine!</p>
+
+<p>By an indirect route they came to the common over which Paul had ridden
+on Falcon. They stopped at the spot where Zuker and his confederate had
+seized Falcon's bridle. Then they turned back, and paused once more
+where the brave horse had staggered and fallen. Paul had not seen the
+place since, and as they reached it, he lived once again through the
+incidents of those few terrible moments when the life-blood of Falcon
+was slowly oozing away. He could see it lying there; he could see the
+crimson stream running from its flank, the look of pathos in its eyes as
+it turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we will drive on," said Mr. Moncrief gently. "We owe a good
+deal to Falcon, so I mean to have a little memorial to his memory some
+day&mdash;to the memory of a noble horse. There are some animals, it seems to
+me, who are as much entitled to it as human beings."</p>
+
+<p>A great surprise was in store for them when they reached the well down
+which Paul had hidden from his pursuers. Wyndham was standing there,
+just as he had stood on the night when he had covered Paul's retreat!</p>
+
+<p>Then it turned out that Mr. Moncrief had arranged this little surprise
+on the previous day; that he had visited Wyndham, and appointed to meet
+him at the well. To the delight of the boys, the arrangement went still
+further&mdash;Wyndham was to return with them, and spend a few days at
+Redmead.</p>
+
+<p>Stanley was one of the first to give him a hearty greeting.</p>
+
+<p>"You must be my friend as well as Paul's," he said earnestly, as he
+shook him by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>"There's no one, I suppose, who would like to repeat Paul's experience
+in the well?" smiled Mr. Moncrief, when the excitement of the meeting
+had cooled down.</p>
+
+<p>The invitation, it is unnecessary to say, was "declined with thanks."</p>
+
+<p>The happy party returned to Redmead. When the evening came on, the
+blinds drawn, the lamps lit, and the friends were all together, Paul
+could not help thinking there was just one thing missing to complete the
+day's experience.</p>
+
+<p>"When I came here that night and listened at the door, you were
+singing," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Singing what?" asked Mrs. Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>"'Now the day is over.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Happy thought! Let us have it again!" exclaimed Mr. Moncrief.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Moncrief went to the piano, and heartily they sang:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Now the day is over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Night is drawing nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shadows of the evening<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Steal across the sky.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Through the long night watches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May Thine angels spread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their white wings above me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Watching round my bed."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Of a surety that fervent appeal had been answered. God had indeed
+guarded the boys through the "long night watches" at school, and through
+much trial and temptation had brought them safely together under the
+same hospitable roof.</p>
+
+<h4>THE END</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_SERIES_OF_EXCELLENT_STORIES" id="A_SERIES_OF_EXCELLENT_STORIES"></a>A SERIES OF EXCELLENT STORIES</h2>
+
+
+<h4>Full of incident and adventure, which will be read with keen interest
+and enjoyment.</h4>
+
+<p><i>Each with a distinctive Coloured Jacket, Coloured Frontispiece and
+other Illustrations. In Large Crown 8vo, cloth gilt.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>"HONOUR BRIGHT" (David Chester's Motto) <i>By H. ESCOTT-INMAN</i></p>
+
+<p>THE SECOND FORM MASTER OF ST. CYRIL'S <i>By H. ESCOTT-INMAN</i></p>
+
+<p>LOYAL AND TRUE <i>By M. B. MANWELL</i></p>
+
+<p>THE BOYS OF MONK'S HAROLD <i>By J. HARWOOD PANTING</i></p>
+
+<p>CLIVE OF CLAIR COLLEGE <i>By HARRY HUNTINGDON</i></p>
+
+<p>THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL <i>By HARRY HUNTINGDON</i></p>
+
+<p>THE TWO RUNAWAYS <i>By HARRY HUNTINGDON</i></p>
+
+<p>AN UPHILL GAME <i>By HARRY HUNTINGDON</i></p>
+
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Published by</span><br />
+FREDERICK WARNE &amp; CO., LTD.<br />
+<span class="smcap">London and New York</span></h4>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 26392-h.txt or 26392-h.zip *******</p>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Hero of Garside School, by J. Harwood
+Panting
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Hero of Garside School
+
+
+Author: J. Harwood Panting
+
+
+
+Release Date: August 22, 2008  [eBook #26392]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau, Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the
+Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 26392-h.htm or 26392-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/3/9/26392/26392-h/26392-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/3/9/26392/26392-h.zip)
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+      [oe] represents the oe-ligature.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL
+
+by
+
+J. HARWOOD PANTING
+
+Author of "Clive of Clair College," "The Two Runaways," etc.
+
+With Original Illustrations
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+London
+Frederick Warne & Co., Ltd.
+and New York
+(All rights reserved)
+
+Printed In Great Britain
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: FALCON WAS DEAD.... TO MAKE GOOD HIS ESCAPE, NO TIME MUST
+BE LOST.]
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+         I THE MOTHER'S PRAYER
+
+        II THE MESSAGE
+
+       III THE CRY OF THE PSALMIST
+
+        IV SHADOWS OF THE EVENING
+
+         V THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK
+
+        VI HARRY MONCRIEF ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
+
+       VII A BAD COMMENCEMENT FOR THE TERM
+
+      VIII FOR THE SAKE OF A CHUM
+
+        IX GOOD ADVICE
+
+         X TORN FROM THE BLACK BOOK
+
+        XI FOR THE HONOUR OF THE FORM
+
+       XII THE FORUM
+
+      XIII A CHALLENGE FROM ST. BEDE'S
+
+       XIV THE CHAMPION OF HIS FORM
+
+        XV WHAT HAPPENED AT THE SAND-PIT
+
+       XVI "HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A LEPER"
+
+      XVII THE "GARGOYLE RECORD"
+
+     XVIII PAUL WRITES A LETTER
+
+       XIX THE SCHOOL OF ADVERSITY
+
+        XX WYNDHAM AGAIN TO THE RESCUE
+
+       XXI THE CHASM WIDENS
+
+      XXII HATCHING A PLOT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT
+
+     XXIII THE LAST BOND OF FRIENDSHIP
+
+      XXIV THE RAFT ON THE RIVER
+
+       XXV ON A VOYAGE OF ADVENTURE
+
+      XXVI WHAT HAPPENED ON THE RAFT
+
+     XXVII THE OLD FLAG
+
+    XXVIII HIBBERT ASKS STRANGE QUESTIONS
+
+      XXIX AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
+
+       XXX HIBBERT FINISHES HIS STORY
+
+      XXXI A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
+
+     XXXII HOW THE OLD FLAG WAS TAKEN FROM GARSIDE
+
+    XXXIII FRIEND AND FOE
+
+     XXXIV THE MYSTIC ORDER OF BEETLES
+
+      XXXV A REMARKABLE DISCOVERY
+
+     XXXVI THE "FOX-HOLE"
+
+    XXXVII THE LETTERS AT THE TUCK-SHOP
+
+   XXXVIII "FORGIVE, AND YE SHALL BE FORGIVEN"
+
+     XXXIX THE MISSING FLAG
+
+        XL HOW THE FLAG FOUND ITS WAY BACK TO THE TURRET
+
+       XLI FRIENDS IN COUNCIL
+
+      XLII UNEXPECTED TIDINGS
+
+     XLIII THE STORM BREAKS
+
+      XLIV IN THE GARDEN
+
+       XLV HOW THE VOTE WAS CARRIED
+
+      XLVI WATERMAN DOES A STRANGE THING
+
+     XLVII IN THE FOX'S HOLE
+
+    XLVIII THE BURNING SHIP
+
+      XLIX THE PETITION--WHAT BEFELL IT
+
+         L FOUND OUT
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+FALCON WAS DEAD.... TO MAKE GOOD HIS ESCAPE, NO TIME MUST BE LOST.
+
+"'I AM MR. MONCRIEF,' SAID THAT GENTLEMAN, STEPPING FORWARD."
+
+"AS ILL-LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, HIBBERT RAN FULL TILT AGAINST MR. WEEVIL,
+JUST AS HE REACHED THE OUTER DOOR."
+
+"SLIGHTLY RAISING HIMSELF FROM HIS POSITION ON THE ROOF, CRICK LIFTED
+THE FLAGSTAFF FROM ITS SOCKET, AND DREW IT QUICKLY BENEATH THE
+TRAP-DOOR."
+
+"THE BOY WAS KNEELING BESIDE HIM,--IT WAS MONCRIEF MINOR.... 'ARE YOU
+ALL RIGHT?' CAME IN A WHISPER FROM THE BOY."
+
+
+
+
+THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE MOTHER'S PRAYER
+
+
+"God grant that it may never happen, Paul; God grant that England may
+never be invaded, that her foes may never land upon our shores."
+
+And the lips of Mrs. Percival moved in silent prayer. Paul regarded the
+loved face of his mother for a minute or two thoughtfully, as though he
+were longing to put to her many questions, but dared not. At length he
+said, breaking the silence:
+
+"Did father ever speak of it?"
+
+It was one of the greatest griefs of Paul's life that he had never known
+his father. He had been a captain in the Navy, but was unfortunately cut
+off in the prime of his career by a brave attempt to save the life of a
+man who had flung himself overboard. The man was saved, but Captain
+Percival was drowned, leaving a widow and son to lament his loss. Paul
+at that time was only a year old, so that it was not till the years went
+on he understood the greatness of his loss. Often and often his thoughts
+turned to the father who had been snatched from him by a sudden and
+untimely death, especially when he saw the boys of his school who were
+fortunate enough to possess both parents; but often as his thoughts went
+to his father, he rarely spoke of him to his mother. He could see that
+the pain and sorrow of his death were still with her--that the awful
+moment when the news came of that sudden, swift catastrophe had written
+itself upon her heart and memory in writing which would never be
+effaced.
+
+Paul did not find out all that he had become to his mother till some
+time after his father's death--not, in fact, till his first term at
+school had ended. He had never been away from home so long before, and
+he never forgot how she pressed him to her, and with what tender
+earnestness she said, "Ah, dear, you do not know how I have missed you."
+
+That same night, when she had thought him fast asleep, she entered his
+room, looked long and earnestly in his face by the light of a candle,
+and then stole gently out. And that Sunday, when he went to the old
+church with her, he felt her hand steal into his as the vicar read the
+Litany; and the pressure of her hand waxed closer as the vicar's voice
+sounded through the church: "From lightning and tempest; from plague,
+pestilence, and famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death."
+Then rose the fervent response from the congregation, "Good Lord,
+deliver us." And none prayed it more fervently than the widow as she
+knelt by the side of her son.
+
+It was not only that Mrs. Percival had lost her husband at sea, but she
+had lost a brother, a promising young lieutenant in the Navy, while on
+active service in China; and Paul's grandfather had lost his life many
+years back while fighting under Nelson at Copenhagen. It is little to be
+wondered at, therefore, that Mrs. Percival rarely spoke about the sea to
+Paul. She feared its fascination; she was anxious to keep his thoughts
+from it. He was all that was now left to her, and she had no wish that
+he should go into the service in which the lives of three near and dear
+relatives had been sacrificed.
+
+"Yes, your father sometimes spoke of it," Mrs. Percival answered. "His
+father--that is to say, your grandfather--lived in the time when there
+was such a great scare about wicked Napoleon invading England; but that
+is long ago, and it was all ended by Nelson's last great victory at
+Trafalgar. Ah, Paul, these scares and wars are terrible. I sometimes
+think that it must be monsters ruling the world rather than men. If the
+prayers of mothers and wives and orphans could only be heard, I am sure
+that war, and the danger of war, would soon be over. But why are you
+worrying about an invasion?"
+
+"Well, Great Britain has a good many enemies, you know, mother, and
+people are talking about a possible invasion. Besides, I've got to write
+something about it next term, and it won't do for the son of a captain
+to make a mess of it altogether."
+
+"Write something?" questioned Mrs. Percival, turning pale. Ah, the
+terrible fascination of the sea! Was it going to claim her son as it had
+claimed her husband? "How is that?"
+
+"A prize has been offered for the best paper on 'The Invasion of Great
+Britain.' I may as well have a cut in."
+
+"By all means, Paul; but for my sake--for my sake"--placing her hand
+upon his shoulder--"don't think too much about the sea."
+
+She leant forward and kissed him; then went hurriedly from the room.
+Paul knew that it was his duty to do as his mother told him, but he
+found it very hard. He was a stalwart lad of fifteen, with the blood of
+two generations of seamen in his veins, so that it seemed as though his
+very blood were part of the brine of the ocean.
+
+He stood by the window, looking from the old Manor House in which he
+lived to the road. Presently he saw Job Brice, who did odd jobs about
+the house and garden, walking across the grounds to the paddock. Job had
+been a seaman in the Navy at the same time as his father, and for that
+reason had been given employment, to add to his pension, at the Manor
+House; but he rarely spoke about his seafaring life to our hero. Paul
+suspected that this, in a large measure, was due to his mother, for
+whenever Job did speak, he always dwelt on the most unattractive side of
+a sailor's life.
+
+So soon as Paul caught sight of Job, he seized his cap, and went after
+him. He came up with him just as he had entered the paddock.
+
+"I say, Brice, I've just been talking to mother about father. I don't
+like to question her too much, for I can see it gives her pain."
+
+"Quite right, Master Paul; it does give her pain," said Job, turning his
+scarred, weather-beaten face to the boy; "and it's very good of you to
+think of her. It ain't all boys who're so thoughtful of their mother."
+
+"Oh, don't butter me, Brice, for I'm long chalks from deserving it. But
+perhaps you wouldn't mind answering me a question I could never quite
+make out. I've heard that father died in saving another man. And that is
+all I do know, for mother never speaks of it, and I can't keep boring
+her with questions. How did it happen?"
+
+"Well, no one knows exactly. So far as could be made out, some
+pirate--some furrin sneak--got into his cabin while we were in port, and
+got at his private despatches. He was imprisoned in the hold by the
+captain's orders. The next day we were to make for Gibraltar, where the
+spy was to be tried by court-martial. The next night was a dirty one--no
+rain to speak of, but dark and blustery. While it was at its height, the
+prisoner in the hold managed to escape, and jumped overboard. Your
+father was one of the first to see him, and leapt after him. He reached
+the poor wretch and held him till the boat put out; then a fiercer gust
+of wind came, and they were separated. The spy was swept in the
+direction of the boat. Your father was swept away from it. The spy was
+caught up and dragged into it. Your father was never seen again. He'd
+saved the spy's life at the expense of his own. There wasn't a man on
+board the ship but esteemed--yes, loved your father. He was one of the
+best skippers that ever walked a deck. What we felt afterwards, Master
+Paul, can't be described. We felt just sick that he'd gone, and that
+that sneaking, shivering furrin rascal had been saved. Some of the boys
+would ha' lynched him, I think, only that he looked purty sick at that
+time hisself, and they knew a court-martial was awaitin' him at
+Gibraltar. Well, he were taken to Gib."
+
+"And what happened?" asked the lad, as the old salt paused.
+
+"What happened? Why, he got clean off!" cried the old salt indignantly.
+"There was little or no evidence agen him. The one who knew all about
+him, and what he'd been up to, was your father, and--and----"
+
+Job Brice came to a dead stop as the back of his big, rough hand went
+across his eyes.
+
+"My father had gone to the bottom! Yes, yes, I understand it all!" said
+Paul in a choking voice. "So they were obliged to release the man, and
+he got off scot-free?"
+
+"You've just guessed it, Master Paul! It makes me blood boil when I
+think of it!"
+
+Then he ended up, as he always did: "Ah, it's a dog's life, is the sea!
+Don't you ever think of the sea, Master Paul!"
+
+Paul knew from what quarter the final moral, with which Job invariably
+favoured him, came. Usually he smiled; but there was no smile on his
+face now. He could understand his mother's feelings as he had never
+understood them before. He could understand why she so rarely spoke of
+that time--why she never referred to his father's death.
+
+"You can't remember the man's name, I suppose?"
+
+"No, I can't remember that," answered Job, rubbing his head
+thoughtfully, "'cept that it was a foreign one--Zuker, I think it was,
+or some such name as that. Don't think no more about it. Thinking about
+it don't do no good."
+
+"Poor, poor father!" said Paul, as he turned once more towards the
+house. "He must have been a brave man. Oh, that I could have seen him,
+and known him, so that I might be able to remember him as he was in
+life, instead of carrying about a dead image in my heart!"
+
+Still, it was a comfort to know that his father had been loved by those
+under him--that he had died a brave death. Better, far better, to die a
+brave death than to live on in shame and infamy, as the man had probably
+lived whom his father had saved.
+
+And yet this mean, despicable spy might have turned over a new leaf from
+the day his father had sacrificed his life to save him. He might have
+begun a new and nobler life. If so, the sacrifice had not been in vain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE MESSAGE
+
+
+The long autumn holiday was drawing to a close. In a couple of days'
+time Paul would be back again at the old school--back again at Garside
+House. He had had a pretty good time during the "vac.," but, none the
+less, he should not be sorry to meet again the fellows of his Form.
+School wasn't such a bad place, after all.
+
+"Fact, if it wasn't for that wretched science master, Weevil--why wasn't
+he christened Weazel?--one might put up with a lot of it. Don't know how
+it is, but he always puts my back up."
+
+Paul was returning home across the fields, and had just alighted over a
+five-barred gate into a lane which wound round the side of the Manor
+House into the main road, when he was arrested by a cry of distress.
+
+"Hallo! What's that? Some one down? My--down it is!"
+
+A horseman had come a cropper a little distance down the lane. Paul
+immediately ran to his assistance.
+
+"What's wrong, sir? A tumble?"
+
+"Yes; Falcon slipped, and before I quite knew where I was I was out of
+the saddle. But I don't think I'm hurt very much."
+
+Paul extended a hand to the fallen rider. He grasped it, and tried to
+rise; a spasm of pain crossed his face.
+
+"I'm afraid that you are hurt, sir."
+
+"A little more than I thought," said the gentleman, as he leaned against
+the saddle. "Poor old Falcon," patting the horse, "don't look so
+grieved. It wasn't so much your fault as my carelessness."
+
+Then the caressing movement of the hand ceased, and he stood listening
+as one who fears pursuit. He tried to mount to the saddle, but failed.
+
+"Heaven help me!" he murmured. And then, as though Heaven had inspired
+him, he turned to Paul suddenly with a hopeful light in his eye: "Can
+you ride, my lad?"
+
+"Rather! I learnt to ride almost as soon as I could walk," smiled Paul.
+
+It was no empty boast. Paul had been taught riding at a very early age,
+and was as much at home in the saddle as on his feet.
+
+"I seem to have sprained my leg, and it is getting more painful every
+moment. I've got a message of the utmost importance that must reach
+Redmead to-night. You know Redmead?"
+
+"Well."
+
+"Will you take a message for me? I ask it as a great favour, my lad."
+
+He spoke with great earnestness, and waited eagerly for Paul's answer.
+Paul did not at once respond. Redmead was seven miles distant; it was
+getting dusk; the journey to Redmead and back would take him close upon
+two hours; his mother would wonder at his absence.
+
+"You won't refuse me, lad. You don't know what it means to me, and
+others."
+
+Paul liked the stranger's face. He was a man of about thirty-seven or
+thirty-eight, with clear, honest eyes, and an open, gentlemanly bearing.
+It was plain that the business on which he wished Paul to go was
+important. The boy's sympathies were with him, but still he hesitated.
+
+"Whereabouts in Redmead?"
+
+"To Oakville, the house of Mr. Moncrief."
+
+"Moncrief!" cried Paul. "I've a chum at school named Moncrief--Stanley
+Moncrief."
+
+"He's my son. The gentleman living at Redmead is Stanley's uncle. What
+is your name?"
+
+"Paul Percival."
+
+"I've often heard my boy speak of you. Glad to make your acquaintance,
+though I wish our introduction had taken place under happier
+circumstances."
+
+His chum's father! Paul was all aglow. He hesitated no longer.
+
+"Give me your message, sir. I shall only be too pleased to do anything
+for Stan's father."
+
+Mr. Moncrief wrote rapidly on a sheet from his pocket-book:
+
+"Enclosed fragments have come to hand. It is a letter from Zuker, the
+German Jew, who is in England. Take care. Be on guard!"
+
+When he had finished this brief note, Mr. Moncrief took from his
+pocket-book several fragments of torn paper, bearing on them, as it
+appeared to Paul, mysterious hieroglyphics. He put these inside an
+envelope together with the note he had written. Then he sealed it down
+and handed it to Paul.
+
+"You are my boy's chum, I feel that I can trust you. Give this to my
+brother, Mr. Walter Moncrief--in no one else's hands. I cannot tell you
+how much may depend upon those pieces of paper reaching him. You will
+not part with them whatever happens?"
+
+"God helping me," said Paul, impressed with the earnestness of Mr.
+Moncrief's words and manner. "There is my house, sir"--pointing to the
+Manor House. "You will find rest there, and perhaps you wouldn't mind
+telling my mother where I've gone."
+
+Paul mounted to the saddle. Falcon, as though anxious to resume its
+journey, sped along the lane into the open road. Though it was getting
+dusk, it mattered little to Paul, for he was well acquainted with every
+inch of the country for miles around. He could not help thinking of the
+strangeness of the adventure.
+
+"Stan's father--only fancy! I'm glad that I was able to help him and
+take his message. Shan't I have something to tell old Stan when I get
+back to school!"
+
+Then he began to wonder what the torn fragments of paper, with the
+hieroglyphics on them, could mean, and what could be the message of
+which he was the bearer. Had he seen it, his wonder would assuredly have
+grown.
+
+The cool breeze of evening fell upon his face. The shadows began to
+lengthen. The leaves rustled beneath Falcon's feet. It was a noble,
+intelligent horse, and seemed as conscious of the importance of the
+message upon which it was going as Paul himself.
+
+"Good horse--good Falcon!" cried Paul, stroking its neck. "I wouldn't
+mind a horse like you. I wonder how many times Stan has ridden you."
+
+By this time they had reached an open common. It had been a perilous
+place to ride over in years gone by, when robbers abounded, but those
+days had gone, and no thought of danger occurred to Paul as he reached
+it. There were two ways of going to his destination--one was by taking
+the road by the side of the common and skirting it, the other, by the
+more solitary but nearer road across it. Paul selected the latter,
+urging his horse to a gallop as he did so. Falcon immediately responded
+to the call of its young rider, and soon they were speeding across the
+common.
+
+When they reached the other side the road leading to Redmead stretched
+before them. It had grown suddenly darker. The road was bounded on
+either side by hedges, and the branches of trees interlaced each other
+in an arch-way overhead. Whether from the sudden darkness or that he had
+scented some hidden danger, Falcon slackened speed.
+
+"What's wrong, Falcon?" cried Paul. "Get on--the sooner our journey's
+ended, the sooner you'll have your supper. Now, then, old boy."
+
+The horse was about to speed forward again, but scarcely were the words
+from Paul's lips than a man sprang from the hedge and seized the bridle.
+
+"Stop!" came a sharp, decisive voice, with a foreign accent, "Stop!"
+
+Paul just caught a glimpse of the man's face in the half light. The
+cheekbones were somewhat high, but narrowed down sharply at the chin. He
+wore eyeglasses on the eyes, which seemed to Paul, in that swift glance
+he caught of them, of a steely blue. He had a thick, military moustache,
+drawn out to fierce points; but his chin was clean-shaven. Directly he
+stopped the horse, a second man sprang to the other side of it. Paul
+immediately concluded they were robbers.
+
+"What do you want? I've got no money--at least, only a few coppers.
+You're welcome to those, if you'll only let me ride on."
+
+"We're not robbers," said the first man, who seemed to be the master of
+the two, "and, therefore, we don't want your coppers. We've got one or
+two questions to put to you. If you'll only answer them civilly, we'll
+let you go your way. If you don't answer them----"
+
+He broke off with a shrug of the shoulders to indicate the terrible fate
+which might await the boy in the event of his declining to answer the
+questions put to him.
+
+"You're riding Mr. Moncrief's horse, Falcon?"
+
+Paul wondered who the man was, and how he had come by his information.
+
+"Yes, that's right. What of it?"
+
+"How is it you are riding Falcon instead of Mr. Moncrief?"
+
+Paul did not at once answer. He wondered whether by answering he would
+be doing wrong. Yet what wrong could he do by speaking the truth. Paul
+was an honest boy--as honest as the day--and detested falsehood of any
+kind.
+
+"Mr. Moncrief met with an accident--that's why," he answered doggedly.
+
+"An accident"--the stranger exchanged glances with the other man.
+"That's the reason he's been left behind, is it? You've come in his
+stead--eh?"
+
+Paul nodded. He felt somehow that he was giving Mr. Moncrief away, but
+he could not help himself.
+
+"Thought so. You're going to Mr. Walter Moncrief, his brother--eh?"
+
+Paul remained silent. He felt that he had said too much already.
+
+"Tongue-tied--eh? Well, I won't trouble you to answer, for I know well
+enough my information's right. All you need do is just to hand over to
+me the packet you're taking to Mr. Walter Moncrief. I'll take care of
+it."
+
+The stranger's information was only too accurate; Paul marvelled at its
+accuracy; but nevertheless Mr. Moncrief's words, "I feel that I can
+trust you. You will not part with the letter, whatever happens," came to
+him, and he determined not to give up the packet without a struggle.
+
+"You're not deaf as well as tongue-tied--eh? Quick! quick! hand over
+the packet," came the imperious voice of the stranger.
+
+Paul saw that he was in a desperate situation--one from which it would
+only be possible to extricate himself by strategy. He put his hand to
+the inner pocket where the packet lay, and drew it a little way from his
+pocket. This movement disarmed the man who held the bridle. He slackened
+his hold. As he did so Paul brought down his riding-whip--or, rather,
+Mr. Moncrief's riding-whip--sharply on the other man's face.
+
+With a cry of mingled rage and pain the man dropped the bridle.
+
+"Good Falcon--good. Now!" cried Paul, urging the horse forward.
+
+The second man made a lunge at the horse. Falcon, as though fully alive
+to the need of getting away, bounded forward like a dart along the road.
+It went forward at a breakneck speed, quivering in every limb, as though
+feverishly anxious to place as great a distance as possible between Paul
+and his pursuers.
+
+"Thank God, thank God!" Paul murmured, overjoyed at their escape. "What
+a noble horse it is. That man is a foreigner, I'm sure of it--one who
+would stop at nothing to gain his ends. Who is he, I wonder?"
+
+If Paul had only known! But all was dark to him, as dark as the road
+along which he was speeding. Only one thing was clear--that these men
+were the enemies of Mr. Moncrief; that they were anxious to get from him
+the packet of which he was the bearer. More and more Paul wondered what
+could be the meaning of it all--what could be the meaning of the curious
+hieroglyphics in his pocket.
+
+But suddenly, just as he was congratulating himself on the distance he
+had placed between himself and his pursuers, Falcon slackened speed, and
+began to breathe hard. What was the meaning of it? Had an accident
+befallen him, or had he grown weary? Paul knew enough of the animal to
+know that it would not readily slacken speed through weariness. Falcon
+was one of those sterling animals who would take every inch from himself
+before he would give in through weariness.
+
+If he could only get it a little farther on the road, it might be
+possible to keep the advantage he had gained on his pursuers. Once more
+he encouraged the horse to go forward; and once more it made a desperate
+effort to obey him.
+
+Then it reeled again. Paul had just time to extricate his feet from the
+stirrups when Falcon fell with a crash by the roadside.
+
+Paul hurt one of his legs by the fall, but he had no thought for himself
+as he bent over the horse.
+
+"Heaven help us!" was his fervent prayer, for in that one brief glance
+he could tell that poor Falcon was dying, and he knew that not long
+would elapse before his pursuers reached him.
+
+"What is it, old fellow? Good Falcon--good!"
+
+Once more Falcon responded to the call; it made desperate efforts to
+rise; but almost immediately slackened. Paul's hand went to its neck. It
+was bathed in perspiration and foam. What had happened to it? In the
+uncertain light it was impossible to tell. Had it injured a foot or leg?
+All at once Paul recalled the way in which the man had lunged at the
+horse at the moment of their escape. He must have injured it in some
+way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE CRY OF THE PSALMIST
+
+
+Yes; poor Falcon was dying. A crimson stream was running from a wound in
+its flank, and Paul knew that the horse had not many minutes to live.
+
+"The scoundrel!" he said to himself between his clenched teeth, as he
+thought of the man who had wrought this cruel deed. Paul was one of
+those brave lads who would never wittingly have done an act of cruelty,
+least of all to one of God's dumb creatures. It touched him to the quick
+to see the poor horse dying. He knelt by its side, and his hand went
+caressingly over it. Falcon turned to him with such a look of pathos in
+its eyes that a big lump rose in the boy's throat, as though he were
+choking.
+
+"I can do nothing for you, old fellow. I wish I could!"
+
+There was no help near, and it was clear to see that if there had been
+it would have been useless. Falcon was breathing hard, in its last stern
+fight with death. Paul could not bear to see its pain. His hand moved up
+to its head. It soothed the horse. For a minute it lay perfectly still,
+and then, as though in that brief interval of rest it had been
+collecting its strength for a last great effort, it tried to rise to its
+feet again. It rose a little way, then fell. Again it turned its head to
+Paul, and looked at him with glazed eyes. A shiver went over every limb;
+then the noble horse lay quite still, and Paul knew that it was dead.
+
+Tears came to his eyes. It was as though he had been standing by the
+death-bed of a human being. And, now that he was in the presence of
+death, he scarcely knew how to act. Suddenly the sound of distant voices
+roused him from the stupor into which he had fallen. For the moment, in
+his grief at Falcon's death, he had forgotten that he was being
+pursued--forgotten the message of which he was the bearer.
+
+The sound of voices recalled him to his duty. If he remained there, his
+pursuers would soon discover him, and wrest from him the letter with
+which he had been entrusted. Falcon was dead. He could do no good by
+remaining. To make good his escape, no time must be lost. By God's good
+help, he might yet succeed in eluding his pursuers.
+
+So he pulled himself together, resolved to go forward at all hazards.
+
+"It is for Stan's father," he said to himself, as he tried to run. But
+he soon found that another misfortune had befallen him. The injury to
+his leg prevented him from running. It was only with an effort he could
+walk at any speed, and at every step he took he felt that his pursuers
+were gaining ground.
+
+Redmead was close upon three miles away. How could he hope to reach it
+without being overtaken by the men who were so keenly pursuing him?
+Instinctively came to his memory the words he had so often heard in the
+village church--"The wicked oppress me--compass me about. They now
+compass me in my footsteps." And the cry of the Psalmist rose to his
+lips:
+
+"Hold up my goings in Thy paths, that my footsteps slip not. Show Thy
+marvellous loving kindness, O Thou that savest by Thy right hand them
+which put their trust in Thee. Hide me under the shadow of Thy wings
+from the wicked that oppress me, from my deadly enemies, who compass me
+about. Arise, O Lord, disappoint him, cast him down."
+
+With renewed strength he pressed on; but he had not gone far before he
+was compelled to slacken his pace. He realized that it was hopeless for
+him to evade his pursuers unless he could find some hiding-place. He
+looked around. There was no house near. But just a little ahead of him,
+to the right of the road, were the ruins of an old house which had been
+burned almost to the ground, and never been re-built.
+
+As a drowning man clutches at a straw, Paul made his way to the ruins.
+But he had not gone more than a few paces through what had once been the
+garden of the house, when a voice cried:
+
+"Hallo! Who are you? What are you doing here?"
+
+Paul was somewhat startled, for he thought the place deserted. He found
+himself mistaken, however, for a boy came from the ruins and faced him.
+He was slightly taller than Paul, and of slimmer build; but he was none
+the less well proportioned, and his limbs moved with the easy movement
+of a young athlete. In spite of the dusk, Paul recognized him. He was
+one of the senior boys of St. Bede's--the scholars of which were the
+deadly rivals of Paul's school. There had been a perpetual feud between
+St. Bede's and Garside for many years. Sometimes it would be patched up
+for a week or two; then it would break out with greater violence than
+ever. Just before the vacation, the feud had burst out stronger than
+ever. There is no telling to what length it might have been carried,
+but, fortunately, the vacation came on, and hostilities were suspended.
+The boy before him was Wyndham, one of the ringleaders on the other
+side. The recognition was simultaneous.
+
+"You're one of the bounders of Garside, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes," Paul candidly admitted; "and you--you're one of the Bede's,
+aren't you? I haven't time to talk. There's some one after me. Can you
+put me up to a place to hide in?--quick, there's a good fellow!"
+
+"Running away--eh?" said the other contemptuously, without moving.
+"That's like you Garside fellows!"
+
+"I wish I had only the time to teach you better," retorted Paul
+indignantly. Then, remembering all that was at stake, he suppressed his
+indignation, and in quick, earnest tones: "I'm not sneaking--on my word
+of honour. I'm the bearer of an important paper, belonging to a chum's
+father. Two men are following me up to try to get it from me. If I can't
+steer clear of them they will take it from me. You know this place. Hide
+me somewhere!"
+
+The earnest tones of Paul appealed to Wyndham.
+
+"I don't know of any hiding-place, except----"
+
+"Except what?" cried Paul eagerly, as he again caught the sound of
+voices from the roadway.
+
+"The old well."
+
+"The old well! How is it possible to hide there?"
+
+"Well, I can let you down in the bucket, if you care to run the risk.
+I've been down it myself--but I'm not a Garside fellow."
+
+It was as much as to say that "a Garside fellow" was not capable of
+doing what a "St. Bede fellow" could do.
+
+"I'd run any risk--quick! I can near them coming! Where's the well?"
+
+It was only a few paces from where they were standing. Wyndham led the
+way.
+
+"I'll let you down a little way; then draw you up again directly the men
+have gone--that is to say, if they should come this way."
+
+"They are coming this way. I feel sure of it, and there's no time to
+lose."
+
+"Here you are, then. Keep steady, and don't make a sound. They won't
+think of you stowed away down there."
+
+Paul got into the bucket. The chain was somewhat rusty, but though it
+was the worse for disuse, and creaked as it was lowered, it held firm.
+When Wyndham had lowered Paul a short distance, he made firm the chain;
+so that he was suspended half-way between the water and the top. It
+wasn't a very pleasant situation. A dank smell came from below, and it
+seemed the abode of darkness as the boy above shut out the last remnant
+of light by placing the cover a little way over the well.
+
+Not a moment too soon, for he had only just finished when a man darted
+up to him and seized him by the collar.
+
+"Ha! Got you at last, have I? A nice chase you've led us."
+
+"What's the matter? That's my collar when you've done with it. Drop it,
+please!"
+
+"Hand over that paper."
+
+"What paper?"
+
+"The paper you're taking to Redmead. Quick--out with it!"
+
+Wyndham, though he did not appreciate the man's grip on his collar, was
+enjoying the joke. He could see what had happened. The man had mistaken
+him for "that Garside fellow" down the well.
+
+"I would like to oblige you, but I really don't know what you're talking
+about. I haven't any paper."
+
+By this time the second man had arrived on the scene. His sharp, ferrety
+eyes, which--like the eyes of a cat--seemed capable of seeing in the
+darkness, immediately went to Wyndham's face.
+
+"Hi, Brockman! Hi! What are you doing? You have got hold of the wrong
+boy!"
+
+"The wrong boy!" exclaimed the man addressed as Brockman. "Are you
+sure?"
+
+"Certain! Where are your eyes?"
+
+"They're not quite so sharp as yours, Mr. Zuker, I know; but I made sure
+I'd tracked the youngster here."
+
+Paul could hear distinctly every word that passed from his uncomfortable
+position down the well. As the name Zuker fell upon his ears he trembled
+so that he nearly over-balanced himself and fell into the water below.
+It was not with fear. Zuker! That name was one he was never likely to
+forget so long as memory lasted. It was the name of the man for whom his
+poor father had sacrificed his life!
+
+Could it be the same? It was not a common name, and though the man spoke
+English readily, it was with a German accent. Instinctively Paul felt
+that it was the same, instinctively he felt that the man who had been in
+pursuit of him was the man whom his father had tried to save from the
+sea so long ago. As a recompense for what the father had done he was
+hunting down the son!
+
+"Thank you; it's very kind of you," said Wyndham, as Brockman released
+his hold. "Seems to me you're a little too hasty with your hands! The
+next time you take any one by the collar you'd better make sure first
+that you're going for the right one!"
+
+Brockman turned away without deigning to reply. Zuker was about to
+follow his example, but, suddenly checking himself, he asked:
+
+"Have you seen any one pass this way--a boy about your size--no, not
+quite so tall," as the sharp eyes took note of Wyndham's height.
+
+"About my own size--not quite so tall? Let me see." Wyndham paused as
+though trying to remember.
+
+"Make haste!" cried Zuker impatiently. "We haven't any time to lose.
+Surely you can remember."
+
+"I'm trying to. You see, there are a good number of boys pass along this
+road during the day."
+
+"I'm not speaking about the daytime--within the last quarter of an
+hour!"
+
+"A quarter of an hour. Let me think."
+
+"You'll get nothing from that blockhead, sir!" cried Brockman. "We're
+losing valuable time!"
+
+Zuker had drawn near the well. His hand rested upon the handle. Wyndham
+was a cool boy, whom it took a great deal to disturb, but it must be
+confessed that he required all his coolness and self-possession at that
+moment. He was fearful lest Zuker might catch a glimpse of Paul down the
+well. But, fortunately, he was too intent on questioning Wyndham. So,
+after asking him one or two more questions, he said cuttingly:
+
+"You're a sharp youth. You will set the Thames on fire some day--ugh!"
+
+He looked for the moment as though he would spurn Wyndham with his foot;
+but instead of doing so he gave a vicious twist to the well-handle--to
+the no small alarm of Wyndham--and hastened after his tool and servant,
+Brockman.
+
+Wyndham leapt to the windlass. The twist given by the German had set the
+bucket in motion. Paul was rapidly descending in the bucket to the
+bottom! He seized the handle in his hand and held on to it with all his
+strength. It vibrated as though it were a live thing. He feared that the
+sudden strain upon the chain might snap it in twain, but it held firm.
+
+"Hi, hi!" he cried below. "Are you all right?"
+
+A moment of intense silence--a moment which seemed interminable to the
+boy clinging to the handle of the windlass; then, to his great relief,
+the voice of Paul came faintly up the well:
+
+"All right! But--but it's been a near thing!"
+
+"Hold tight. I'm going to haul you up!"
+
+Slowly he hauled Paul to the top of the well; and, with an
+inexpressible feeling of thankfulness, Paul stepped from the bucket.
+
+"Have they gone?" he asked eagerly.
+
+"Yes. A near thing, you said; what happened?"
+
+"You just stopped me within about a foot of the water, and the sudden
+jerk nearly pitched me out of the bucket. The scoundrels have gone, you
+say?"
+
+"Yes," smiled Wyndham; "they've gone in hot pursuit of you. They little
+dreamt you were down that well! You couldn't have had a better
+hiding-place."
+
+"Better! Well, perhaps you're right; but it was a bit musty and
+uncomfortable! I'm much obliged to you, all the same. You seem a decent
+fellow, though you are a Beetle!"
+
+Beetle was the nickname given by the Garside boys to the boys of St.
+Bede's.
+
+Wyndham laughed. Paul glanced round the melancholy, deserted ruin. He
+could see no sign of human habitation.
+
+"And you seem a decent fellow, though you are a Gargoyle." (Gargoyle was
+the nickname given by the St. Bede boys to the boys of Garside School.)
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Paul Percival. I have often seen you amongst the other Beetles; but you
+don't live about here, do you?"
+
+"Not now." And there was a deep note of melancholy in Wyndham's voice.
+"You can see, it's a ruin; but before it was a ruin I lived here with my
+mother and youngest brother, Archie. He's gone--now."
+
+"Gone?"
+
+Wyndham nodded, and Paul understood too well what "gone" meant.
+Wyndham's brother was dead; but he wondered what his death could have to
+do with the ruined house. There was a painful silence between them for
+some moments.
+
+"I think you said you were going to Redmead?"
+
+"Yes; Oakville, that's the house I want."
+
+"I know it. Mr. Moncrief lives there. He's a big man at Chatham
+Dockyard, and has a lot to do with the defences of the Medway and the
+Thames, so I've heard. He designs things, too, for the Admiralty. I'm
+going partly that way if you don't mind walking with a Beetle."
+
+Paul laughed, and remarked that he could put up for once with a Beetle
+if the Beetle could put up with a Gargoyle.
+
+So they started together, and Wyndham told Paul by the way the reason of
+the ruined house.
+
+His father and mother had taken the house soon after they were married.
+He, Gilbert, was born there; so was his younger brother Archie. Three
+years after the birth of Archie, God visited upon them a great
+misfortune by calling to Himself Mr. Wyndham. Gilbert had by this time
+started on his school career, for he was several years older than his
+brother. The second misfortune occurred while he was away at school,
+three years after the death of his father.
+
+Little Archie was the idol of his mother, and a great pet with old
+Martha, the housekeeper, who had been in the household ever since the
+marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham. Early one morning Mrs. Wyndham awoke
+with a feeling of suffocation. On looking, half dazed, around the
+bedroom, she found it full of smoke. Her first thought was of Archie.
+She made her way to his bed. It was empty! She went to the landing; that
+was full of smoke also. She called for her boy. No answer came. The
+bewildered mother imagined that he must have escaped from the burning
+house while she slept.
+
+By God's providence she got out. She found that the two servants had
+managed to escape from the burning house; but there were no signs of
+little Archie! The distracted mother would have entered the burning
+house again to search for him, but she was held back. It was a merciful
+thing that she became unconscious, and did not see the end of the
+homestead where she had spent so many happy, peaceful hours. It was
+burnt almost to the ground, and amongst the ruins in the kitchen were
+found the charred remains of Archie.
+
+The little fellow was fond of watching old Martha when she lit the
+fires. It was believed, therefore, that he had stolen out of bed that
+fatal morning and tried to light the fire in the kitchen on his own
+account. The lighted match set fire to his bedgown, the bedgown to some
+curtains, and so the fire had spread. Archie joined his father in
+heaven.
+
+"I was away at school at the time," said Wyndham, when he had finished
+his painful story. "You can judge what a homecoming that was for me!"
+
+"It must indeed have been sad," said Paul feelingly.
+
+"My mother was ill for a long time, but at length she got well again. I
+was the only one left to her. After that we lived in a house about a
+mile from here. The ruins of the old house still remain, as you have
+seen. Some day my mother may build again, but she hasn't the heart for
+it at present."
+
+The story of little Archie Wyndham is perfectly true. It is not fiction.
+It happened precisely in the way I have described. I know the terrible
+fascination that fire has for children. Unfortunately they do not
+understand its danger. When, therefore, my dear boy or girl, you are
+tempted to play with fire, will you remember the sad fate of little
+Archie Wyndham? That will enable you, by God's help, to put the
+temptation from you.
+
+All at once Paul came to a dead stop. His hand went to his coat-pocket.
+Absorbed in Wyndham's story, he had forgotten all about the letter he
+was to take to Mr. Walter Moncrief.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Wyndham.
+
+Paul's face had turned to an ashen hue. His hand was still searching his
+pocket.
+
+"The letter!" he exclaimed.
+
+"The letter--well, what about it?"
+
+"It's gone!"
+
+"Gone!" echoed Wyndham scarce able to believe his ears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SHADOWS OF THE EVENING
+
+
+But too true--the letter had gone. No wonder Paul was bewildered,
+stupefied. He had risked so much to get that letter to its
+destination--had braved more than one peril, and come safely
+through--that it seemed heart-breaking to find the letter gone.
+
+"Have you searched all your pockets?" asked Wyndham.
+
+"All," answered Paul. "It was in this one--here"--he placed his hand
+upon his breast-pocket. "I put it here when it was given me, and I
+haven't shifted it."
+
+"Where, then, can it have gone?"
+
+Where? Paul knew well enough that it was in his possession when he left
+poor Falcon by the roadside, for he had felt in his pocket, and found it
+there. He must, therefore, have lost it since; but where--where? That
+was the question he kept repeating to himself without finding an answer.
+Of a sudden it came to him. It must have been jerked from his pocket at
+the moment Wyndham caught the handle of the windlass, nearly
+precipitating him from the bucket to the water.
+
+"I believe it's in the well."
+
+"What?" cried Wyndham. "In the well? How can that be?"
+
+Paul explained.
+
+"You must be right," said Wyndham thoughtfully, when the explanation was
+ended. "Well, there's one consolation--it's better for the letter to be
+in the well than you. It's a pity, but it can't be helped. What will you
+do?"
+
+Paul had been thinking. He could go forward to Mr. Moncrief at Redmead,
+and explain to him that he had lost the letter, or he could go back, and
+explain to the other Mr. Moncrief that he had failed in his embassy.
+Neither alternative was very palatable to him. Duty was before him as a
+pole-star. A still small voice was ever whispering to him, "Paul, thy
+duty. Do that in spite of anything that may happen to you. Place that
+first and foremost, even before self." What, then, was his duty? To
+confess to failure and defeat? No, never! That was the coward's part. He
+would not rest satisfied until he had made an effort to recover the
+letter he had lost, and he told Wyndham so.
+
+"I like your pluck; 'pon my word I do. Didn't think a Gargoyle had so
+much--really I didn't," said Wyndham; "but it's no use being foolhardy.
+If the letter's at the bottom of the well, how, in the name of wonder,
+are you going to get it up again?"
+
+"I don't believe it's at the bottom. The water was pretty thick, I'm
+certain, by the odour. There would be vegetable stuff, and that sort of
+thing floating on the top of it. Well, if that's so, the letter wouldn't
+sink. The gravity of the water would be greater than the weight of the
+letter."
+
+"Oh, the Gargoyles do go in a bit for physics--eh?" smiled Wyndham.
+"Fire away. I believe you're right. What's the next step?"
+
+"The next step is to go down the well again, and prove whether I'm right
+or wrong. Is it asking too much of you to go back with me?"
+
+"You mean going down the well again?"
+
+"If you'll oblige me by again turning the handle."
+
+Wyndham was by this time thoroughly interested in Paul and his mission,
+and he couldn't help admiring still further his pluck and determination.
+He never imagined that a despised "Gargoyle" had so much of those
+qualities. He willingly fell in with Paul's suggestion, and soon they
+were back again at the well.
+
+"I've forgotten one thing," said Paul. "I haven't a light."
+
+"Luckily I can lend you one. Wait here for a moment."
+
+Paul waited while Wyndham disappeared among the ruins. Presently he
+returned with a lantern, which he lighted and handed to Paul. Thus
+equipped, he once more took his position in the bucket.
+
+"Pay out slowly, and I'll tell you when to stop."
+
+The bucket slowly descended till Paul was within a foot or two of the
+water.
+
+"Stop!" he shouted.
+
+The bucket stopped, then Paul leaned over the side, and flashed the
+light of the lantern on the water. There, to his great joy, was the
+missing letter, floating on the weeds. He cautiously leaned forward, and
+grasping the letter, returned it once more in safety to his pocket.
+
+"Haul away!" he cried.
+
+And Wyndham hauled away, so that a minute later Paul was again at the
+brink of the well.
+
+"Found it?" asked Wyndham eagerly.
+
+For answer Paul produced the letter. It was slightly damp, but little
+the worse otherwise for its immersion.
+
+"Well, you deserve it. I'm jolly glad you've found it."
+
+"I should never have got it hadn't it been for you. It was very good of
+you to turn back with me, and I hope if at any time I can do you a
+service, you'll let me know."
+
+The two boys tramped on once more to their destination. Wyndham wished
+Paul good-night at the entrance to Redmead, his home lying in another
+direction. It was not long before Paul came in sight of Oakville. It was
+a fine old country house. A light was shining from its gabled front. By
+its light Paul could see that there was a man hovering about the house.
+He could not get a clear glimpse of him, but he was certain, from the
+man's figure and gait, that it was Brockman, the confederate of Zuker,
+the German spy. Knowing that Paul must come to the house, he had
+evidently been on the watch for him.
+
+Now that he had come so far, Paul did not intend being foiled at the
+last moment. He saw that it was useless trying to enter by the front of
+the house, so he crept round to the back.
+
+A light was coming from one of the windows. Paul made for this window,
+and looked through. He was scarcely prepared for what he saw. It was
+evidently a play-room. There was a large rocking-horse in one corner. A
+trapeze was slung up in the centre. There were single-sticks and foils
+on the wall, dumb-bells, Indian-clubs, a parallel-bar, and a
+vaulting-horse stowed away in another part of the room. But it was not
+so much these things which attracted the attention of Paul as the
+occupants of the room. A middle-aged gentleman was kneeling. He was
+praying aloud. Near him was a lady. On either side of her was a girl and
+boy--the boy about twelve, the girl a couple of years older. In line
+with them were a couple of maidservants and a governess. Paul could see
+that they were at family prayers. He guessed that the gentleman who was
+praying was Mr. Walter Moncrief, the gentleman he had come in search of
+by his likeness to his brother.
+
+When they had finished prayers, the lady went to the piano, and the
+little group joined heartily in a hymn Paul had often heard at school:
+
+    "Now the day is over,
+      Night is drawing nigh,
+    Shadows of the ev'ning
+      Steal across the sky."
+
+Paul listened reverently, with bowed head. How appropriate the words
+seemed to be. In very truth had the shadows been stealing across the sky
+that evening, and they had not yet dispersed. Brockman, the man without,
+was still hovering darkly, like a cloud, over that house. Again the
+singers within raised their voices:
+
+    "Through the long night-watches,
+      May Thine angels spread
+    Their white wings above us,
+      Watching round each bed."
+
+Paul echoed those words very earnestly in his heart as his hand clasped
+tightly the letter for which he had risked so much. The room was an
+addition to the house, and led by a separate door into the garden. When
+the singing had ended, Paul stepped softly to the door and knocked
+gently on it with his knuckles. It was opened by one of the servants.
+The light of the lamp fell upon Paul as the door opened, and the eyes of
+all in the room turned to him as he stood there, with the letter in his
+hand.
+
+"Can I see Mr. Moncrief?"
+
+"I am Mr. Moncrief. What is it you want with me, my lad?" said that
+gentleman stepping forward.
+
+[Illustration: "'I AM MR. MONCRIEF,' SAID THAT GENTLEMAN, STEPPING
+FORWARD."]
+
+"I've brought a letter from your brother, Mr. Henry Moncrief. He
+couldn't bring it himself, because of an accident----"
+
+"An accident?"
+
+"Nothing very serious, sir. A sprain, I think. He asked me to take the
+letter for him, and as he's the father of a school chum of mine, Stan
+Moncrief; I brought it along, and here it is," Paul explained rapidly,
+as he handed Mr. Moncrief the letter.
+
+Paul had by this time entered the room. Directly Mr. Moncrief glanced at
+the letter his face became very grave. He went from the room, and his
+wife followed him, evidently as anxious as himself to know the contents.
+The servants retired, and Paul was thus left alone with the boy and
+girl.
+
+There was not the least shyness about the former, for directly his
+parents left the room, he came forward and introduced himself.
+
+"I'm Harry Moncrief--named after the uncle you brought that letter from.
+He was my godfather, you know. This is my sister, Connie." Connie, who
+was a pretty, fair girl, looked embarrassed at her brother's blunt
+method of introduction, but he rattled on. "Rather good for a girl. Not
+so slow as most of them. Can take a turn with the bells or clubs"--by
+bells and clubs was meant dumb-bells and Indian-clubs--"and she can
+scout at cricket. Didn't I hear you say you were a chum of cousin
+Stanley's?"
+
+"Yes; we're in the same Form."
+
+"What--at Garside School?" asked the boy eagerly.
+
+Paul nodded.
+
+"Hurrah!--hurrah!" cried Harry. "I'm going to Garside next term. I've
+left Gaffer Quelch's, thank goodness!"--Gaffer Quelch's was a college
+for juvenile scholars in the neighbourhood--"and I'm going to see life
+at Garside."
+
+Paul could not help smiling at the boy's idea of "seeing life," and the
+high and exalted notion he seemed to have of Garside.
+
+"Do you know young Plunger? He used to be my chum at Quelch's, but he
+left there a term ago, and went to Garside. That's another reason I'm
+going there. Things are awfully slow at Quelch's since Plunger left He's
+a big pot at Garside, isn't he?"
+
+"Very," answered Paul drily.
+
+Paul knew young Plunger well enough. He was in one of the junior Forms.
+Though he had been at Garside only a term, he had almost succeeded in
+creating a record for the number of scrapes into which he had got during
+that short period.
+
+"Cousin Stan being so high up in the school, I don't want to let him
+down, you know, by making any mistakes when I get to Garside," Harry
+rattled on. "I want to do things in correct form, you see; for if I let
+myself down, I let Stan down. So I asked Plunger the right thing to do
+on going to Garside. Plunger's an awfully good sort of fellow, so he
+took the trouble to write down for me what ought to be done; but I
+wasn't to show it to any one here, for some of the things are school
+secrets, he tells me."
+
+Connie had discreetly withdrawn from the room, leaving Paul and her
+brother together. The latter, however, glanced round to make sure they
+were quite alone before he drew from his pocket the mysterious document
+which Plunger had written for his instruction on entering Garside
+School.
+
+"1. Trousers to be turned up at bottom three inches.
+
+"2. Spats on boots (patents).
+
+"3. White waistcoat. Eton jacket.
+
+"4. Introduce yourself to Bax, the porter, by giving him two slaps on
+the back and a dig with right-hand forefinger in ribs. Give him
+following particulars: Age and weight. Whether vaccinated--show marks.
+Give also measurement of biceps and chest.
+
+"5. On seeing Mrs. Trounce (matron) go down on right knee, and present
+her with your portrait (for school album). Write on bottom of card, in
+clear handwriting, 'With love and kind regards.'
+
+"6. Two shillings to be left at Billiter's for 'footing,' etc."
+
+Paul could scarcely refrain from smiling at the code of rules which the
+audacious Plunger had drawn up for his chum's instruction, the more so
+as Harry, who had never been to a public school, seemed to take them in
+all seriousness.
+
+"You've been through it all, of course?" said Harry, as Paul handed the
+rules back to him. "Kind of Plunger to take so much trouble, isn't it?"
+
+Paul was on the point of answering as Mr. Moncrief entered the room.
+
+Harry hastily thrust the paper out of sight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK
+
+
+"What is your name, my lad?" Mr. Moncrief asked as he entered the room.
+
+"Paul Percival," answered our hero.
+
+"And he goes to the same school as Cousin Stan. Isn't that stunning,
+pa?" exclaimed Harry Moncrief.
+
+"Many thanks for the great service you have done, Paul," said Mr.
+Moncrief earnestly. "You have not only done a great service for me and
+my brother, but for your country. A duty like that brings its own
+reward. But how was it you came by the back way?"
+
+Paul then explained all that had happened since he had left Mr.
+Moncrief's brother. The stoppage on the way by the two men who had tried
+to wrest from him the letter, the death of poor Falcon, the loss of the
+letter and its recovery, his arrival at Oakville, and his discovery that
+Brockman was lying in wait for him at the house.
+
+"The scoundrels!" cried Mr. Moncrief, with flashing eyes, as he paced
+rapidly to and fro the room. Then, pausing again, he clasped Paul by the
+hand.
+
+"I gave you credit for a great deal, but I haven't given you half credit
+enough. So long as you do your duty as you have done it to-night, you
+have nothing to fear for the future. May God bless you, and have you
+always in His keeping, as He has had to-night. I will return with you
+home, and see that no harm befalls you by the way."
+
+Mr. Moncrief had already given orders that his trap should be in
+readiness as quickly as possible, and shortly after the servant entered
+and announced that the coachman was awaiting his master.
+
+"Good-bye, Paul! You'll look out for me at Garside, won't you?" cried
+Harry, as he went out.
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll look out for you!" said Paul, as he thought with a smile
+of the instructions Plunger had given Harry on his introduction to
+Garside School.
+
+Mrs. Moncrief kissed Paul as she wished him good-night, just as his
+mother did, and he could not help blushing. He wondered whether Connie
+Moncrief would do the same, and was much relieved on finding that she
+made no attempt to follow her mother's example.
+
+Nothing was to be seen of the man Brockman when they got outside.
+
+"He has smelt a rat, and when he found the horse was being harnessed,
+got away as quickly as possible," said Mr. Moncrief. "We shan't be
+troubled with him again to-night."
+
+Mr. Moncrief's surmise turned out to be correct. No further adventure
+befel them on the homeward journey. Paul learned, by the way, that the
+man Zuker was a German Jew of great ability and cunning. He was
+suspected to be a spy in the service of a foreign Government--which
+Government Mr. Moncrief did not mention, but Paul guessed which was
+meant.
+
+The spy's purpose in coming to England was to ascertain all he could as
+to the defences of the Thames and the Medway.
+
+"Can't you have the man arrested?" Paul asked, deeply interested in all
+he heard, and feeling more and more convinced that this man Zuker was
+the spy whom his father had saved from the sea at the risk of his own
+life.
+
+"He's too adroit. He's one of the craftiest spies the Admiralty has ever
+had to deal with. We can get no direct evidence against him. Neither do
+we know his exact whereabouts. He's like some nasty slug--you can only
+tell where he's been by the slime he leaves behind. Of course, he has
+one or two confederates to help him."
+
+"I trust they aren't Englishmen, sir?" said Paul.
+
+"I trust so, too. But I fear there are still Judases in the land--men
+who would betray their country, as Judas betrayed his Lord and Master,
+for money, though the price would be a great deal more than thirty
+pieces of silver. Our enemies would give a great deal to get a draft of
+some of the plans in the archives of the Admiralty, I can tell you,
+Paul."
+
+By this time they had reached Paul's home, to the great relief of Mrs.
+Percival and Mr. Henry Moncrief, who had begun to fear that some mishap
+had befallen Paul by the way. By the latter's request nothing was said
+to his mother about the peril in which he had stood, for fear of
+alarming her.
+
+The two brothers had a short interview together. Then, as Mr. Henry
+Moncrief's leg was still painful, it was decided that he should remain
+at Rosemore--Paul's home--that night, and return to his own home the
+next morning. His brother returned to Oakville that same night.
+
+The next morning a carriage came for Mr. Henry Moncrief, to which he was
+able to limp by the assistance of a manservant.
+
+"I shan't regret the accident which has introduced me to you and your
+son, madam," said he, as he wished Paul and his mother good-bye through
+the carriage window. "I have to thank you for your hospitality, and him
+for the great service he has done me. God bless him and you!"
+
+It was almost an echo of words Paul had heard before, but they fell none
+the less sweetly on his ears. That night he dreamed he was hard at work
+on the prize essay, "The Invasion of Great Britain," and that just as he
+had finished it, a shadow fell across the room. He turned round to see
+whence the shadow came, and saw that it was--Zuker! Then he melted into
+thin air. When Paul turned to his essay he found that that had
+disappeared, too. In the shock of the discovery he awoke. Some one was
+bending over him, but it was not Zuker. It was his mother.
+
+"What is it, dear?" she asked anxiously. "You cried out so loudly that I
+thought something dreadful had happened."
+
+"Cried out! What?"
+
+"Help! help!"
+
+"Oh," said Paul, laughing, but shivering in spite of himself, "I was
+dreaming--that is all! I'm sorry to have disturbed you, mother."
+
+The day following, the vacation was at an end, and Paul returned to
+Garside. It was an old, turreted building, dating a couple of centuries
+back. Flying from the west turret was a flag, known as the "old flag at
+Garside." It had a history which was dear to every boy in the school. It
+had been taken by Captain Talbot in the Crimea. The captain had formerly
+been a scholar at Garside. He died soon after of his wounds, and left
+the flag as a legacy to the school.
+
+"Keep the flag flying at the old school," he said, almost with his last
+breath. And then God received his spirit.
+
+The flag was very much stained, and had scarcely any of the original
+pattern remaining; but, none the less, the boys were prouder of that
+flag than any other decoration in the school.
+
+Just as Paul came in sight of it flying from the turret, a timid voice
+sounded in his ear:
+
+"Is that Garside, please?"
+
+Paul, looking down at the speaker, saw a weak-looking, wizen-faced boy,
+with pale, thin cheeks, and one shoulder slightly higher than the other.
+In a word, he was a hunchback. Paul could not help a slight start as he
+looked at him. The boy was quick to notice it, and a slight wave of
+colour came to the pallid cheek. Paul was annoyed at himself for having
+betrayed astonishment, and answered kindly:
+
+"Yes; that is Garside. Are you going there?"
+
+The boy nodded.
+
+"Very well; we'll go along together. Do you mind taking my arm? The
+fellows are rather a rough lot till you get to know them. Your first
+term, isn't it?"
+
+The boy looked his gratitude as Paul took him by the arm.
+
+"Yes; my first term," he said.
+
+"Do you know anybody at the school?"
+
+"Nobody. I'm quite a stranger."
+
+He spoke with a foreign accent, and Paul wondered who he could be. At
+the same time he could not help pitying the solitary boy. He would have
+rather a sorry time of it amongst the other "Gargoyles."
+
+"Well, youngster"--a junior was always "a youngster" in the eyes of his
+senior--"if I can be of help to you at any time, don't be afraid to come
+to me. What is your name?"
+
+"Hibbert--Tim Hibbert. And--and if you don't mind, I'd like to know
+yours?"
+
+Paul told him his name, and they entered the grounds together. A number
+of the boys had already arrived. Some stood in small groups, talking and
+laughing about incidents that had happened during the vacation. Others
+were playing at leapfrog, or chasing each other from pillar to post.
+
+Those nearest to the gates paused in their games as Paul entered, and
+stared at the hunchback. Newall, a senior, said something about
+"Percival and his camel." The remark was as cruel as offensive. Paul did
+not mind for himself, but he did for his companion. He glanced at
+Hibbert, and again noticed the delicate colouring mount to the pale
+cheek. He had evidently caught the sense of Newall's remark, too.
+
+"They have rough speech as well as rough ways, haven't they?" the boy
+remarked quietly.
+
+"Some of them--yes; but you mustn't mind that. They're not such a bad
+lot, take them altogether."
+
+Newall was one of the most arrogant boys at Garside. He had a rough
+tongue, and loved to domineer. You will always find your Newalls in
+every public school, no matter where it be. They are terrors to the
+nervous, sensitive boy; but they always succeed in attracting to
+themselves followers, lads of like dispositions to themselves.
+
+Paul knew well enough that Newall intended the remark for his benefit,
+but he paid no heed to it. He looked round the ground in the hope of
+finding Stanley Moncrief, but saw nothing of him.
+
+"Perhaps he's gone to meet that young cousin of his," he
+said to himself, as his mind went back to Oakville, and the
+never-to-be-forgotten evening on which he had met Harry Moncrief.
+Hibbert wished to be taken to Mr. Weevil the science master, as he was
+to receive his introduction to the school through that gentleman.
+
+Paul accordingly took him to Mr. Weevil's rooms. He was fortunate enough
+to find the master in. He was a sallow-complexioned man, with thin,
+clean-shaven lips. He had a restless, hungry-looking pair of eyes, which
+went up quickly to Paul as he entered the room.
+
+"What is it, Percival?"
+
+"I've brought along a new boy, sir--Hibbert."
+
+"Hibbert?" Mr. Weevil at once rose from his seat, and eyed the boy
+keenly; then his hand went out to the lad: "Welcome to Garside. You can
+leave us, Percival."
+
+Thus summarily dismissed, Paul went out, leaving Hibbert and the science
+master together. It seemed as though the master were favourably
+impressed with the new boy--in spite of the fact that he was a
+hunchback.
+
+"Bravo, Weevil! That's a point in your favour, at any rate. I didn't
+think that you had much pity for any one. Poor little chap!"
+
+His heart went out in sympathy to the little hunchback. What a shadow
+his deformity must cast upon his life?
+
+"They say that hunchbacks are spiteful, and I don't wonder at it. But
+Hibbert doesn't seem a spiteful sort of fellow. Where did he pick up
+that foreign accent, I wonder?"
+
+As he thought of him, he could not help thinking how thankful he ought
+to be to God that he was healthy and straight of limb. It was not till
+he came in contact with poor, deformed creatures like Tim Hibbert that
+he understood God's goodness to himself.
+
+    "Not more than others I deserve,
+    Yet Thou hast given me more,"
+
+he said softly to himself as he returned to the ground.
+
+He had not gone far before he saw Stanley Moncrief coming towards him.
+He was about Paul's age and height, with a like ruddy complexion, and
+frank, open face. The two chums were delighted to meet again,
+especially as so much had happened since their last meeting. Arm in arm
+they walked about the ground talking eagerly, when their conversation
+was suddenly interrupted by a shout of laughter from the other end of
+the ground.
+
+"I say, Paul, that looks very much like my young cousin coming towards
+us," said Stanley, looking in the direction whence the laughter came.
+"What on earth has the little ass been doing with himself?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+HARRY MONCRIEF ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
+
+
+Well might Stanley ask the question. His young cousin had attired
+himself in the most extraordinary fashion. His trousers--plaid
+ones--were turned up three or four inches at the bottom, as though for
+the purpose of displaying to the utmost advantage the white spats on his
+patent shoes, while surmounting the lower half of him was a gorgeous
+white waistcoat, cutaway jacket, and tall hat. Paul could not help
+smiling, for he at once saw the reason of this remarkable attire. Young
+Moncrief had followed out precisely the instructions sent him by his
+friend Plunger.
+
+"He seems to have got himself up regardless of expense, Stan," smiled
+Paul. "He means making an impression on the school. But you needn't
+scowl so, old fellow. It's all done for your sake. He thinks it the
+correct form, and doesn't want to let you down."
+
+"Correct form--don't want to let me down!" repeated Stanley, bewildered.
+"What on earth are you driving at?"
+
+Thereupon Paul related to Stanley the conversation he had had with Harry
+on the day he had visited Oakville, and the mysterious document he had
+shown him from Plunger as to the correct way to dress, and what to do on
+entering Garside.
+
+"And the little soft has nibbled at Plunger's bait," laughed Stanley.
+"It isn't a bad joke, and I suppose I mustn't spoil it."
+
+So Stanley and Paul kept out of the way of the throng of boys who, with
+Harry Moncrief in their midst, were making their way across the grounds
+in the direction of the schoolhouse. Harry, with his arm linked in
+Plunger's--a dark boy, with mischief-sparkling eyes--seemed quite
+unconscious of the fact that the boys were laughing at him.
+
+"Bax is busy with some of the other freshers," Plunger was saying; "so
+you'd better get over your introduction to Mrs. Trounce, and we'll hunt
+up old Bax after."
+
+"All right, Freddy," answered Harry, quite elated at the thought that he
+had at last entered a public school where there were boys bigger and
+older than himself, and that he was being initiated into its mysteries
+and ways. "After that I suppose I can find my cousin?"
+
+"Oh, yes!"
+
+"And there's a chum of his I met at home during the vac.--Paul Percival.
+Do you know him?"
+
+"Ra-ther. He's one of the seniors--in the same form as your cousin. I
+didn't know that you knew him."
+
+"I've only met him once, but I should like to meet him again. Pater
+thinks no end of him."
+
+"Oh, you'll see plenty of him at Garside--a good deal too much. Those
+Upper Form fellows think no end of themselves, I can tell you. This way
+to the divine Trounce. You haven't forgotten?"
+
+"Of course not; I've got all the rules by heart. See, here's the photo."
+
+He drew from his pocket a photograph of himself as he spoke, with some
+writing on the bottom, which he handed to Plunger. The boys following
+behind grew black in the face trying to choke down their laughter.
+
+"Jolly good of you, Harry!" exclaimed Plunger, regarding the photograph
+admiringly. "I didn't know you were such an awfully good-looking fellow.
+Trounce will think a lot of it, I can tell you."
+
+The matron's rooms were a modern addition to the school, at the end of
+the building. Mrs. Trounce, who was at heart rather an amiable woman,
+was busily engaged in her room sorting out an endless array of boys'
+wearing apparel. Her motherly face, therefore, wore an unusually severe
+and worried expression as the boys entered the room. The windows outside
+were suddenly darkened with innumerable faces peering through the
+window.
+
+"I have the honour--the distinguished privilege," said Plunger, with an
+elaborate bow to the matron, "of presenting to you Master Henry
+Moncrief, of Oakville."
+
+Upon this he gave Harry a nudge, and Harry promptly fell on his right
+knee before the matron, and drawing from his pocket the photograph he
+had just shown to Plunger, presented it to Mrs. Trounce with a bow, and
+"Allow me, madam."
+
+A titter came from the faces pressed against the windows outside. Mrs.
+Trounce took the photograph. The severity of her face did not relax, nor
+did it soften when, looking from the photograph, she saw the words
+beneath it, "With love and kind regards."
+
+She looked for the moment as though she were about to administer to
+Harry a sound box on the ears, but, altering her mind, she bestowed it
+instead on the ears of Master Plunger.
+
+"With my love and kind regards, Master Plunger!" she exclaimed.
+
+The titters outside grew louder.
+
+"Oh, thanks--so much!" said Plunger, with his hand to his ear at this
+totally unexpected reception, which he had anticipated to be the portion
+of his chum. "Come along, Harry; we won't waste any more of Mrs.
+Trounce's time. She's very busy. I'll show you your sleeping quarters,
+and then we'll hunt up Bax."
+
+He beat a hasty retreat from the room, half anticipating that if he
+stayed longer the matron might seek to balance matters by boxing the
+other ear.
+
+"Why did she do that, Freddy?" asked Harry, when they had got safely
+from the room.
+
+"It was your photo that did it, Hal; that's quite certain. I noticed how
+she changed colour when she looked at it. It must have reminded her of
+some unhung scoundrel she's met with in the course of her career, and
+she took it out of me. She knows I like to suffer for my friends. That's
+my great weakness. I hope you'll make a better impression on Bax."
+
+He led the way as he spoke through a winding passage and up the
+staircase to the dormitories. He entered one on the door of which was
+painted "E." It was a good-sized room, with six cubicles, side by side,
+with their heads to the windows. Over each was a text of Scripture,
+while on a larger card, at one end of the dormitory, in illuminated
+letters, were the words, "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet." At the other
+end was a corresponding card, on which was printed, "Motto for the year,
+'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.--1 Cor. xv. 58.'"
+
+"There's your cubicle--next to mine; so that'll be jolly," said Plunger,
+pointing to a couple of beds at the end of the room. "The other fellows
+in the dorm. are Baldry, Sedgefield, and Viner."
+
+"But that only makes three. There are four beds."
+
+"Oh, yes! The fourth bed was Mellor's, but his pater took him away for
+some reason or other last term. He's gone over to the enemy."
+
+"The enemy?"
+
+"Don't you know who the enemy is? The Beetles--the bounders at St.
+Bede's. Pretty saints they are, too! You'll know enough of them before
+you've finished here, I warrant. They call us 'Gargoyles.' Cheeky
+bounders, aren't they?"
+
+Before Hal had finished there! Lightly the words were spoken. Neither
+paid much heed to them. But how much was to happen before Hal Moncrief
+had finished at Garside. Neither could see into the future--behind that
+veil which young and old are ever trying to peer through, but which God
+in His infinite love and mercy keeps ever close drawn. That lamp of
+His--the lamp of which the card spoke at the end of the dormitory--is
+for ever burning, however, and there is no fear of our footsteps
+stumbling so long as we walk by its light. Then the dark veil which
+hides the future need have no terror for us, boys and girls; for we know
+that when it is at last lifted it will only reveal to us the still
+greater light beyond.
+
+"Baldry and Sedgefield are decent fellows. I don't care much for Viner.
+He's rather deep, and does fagging now and then for Newall--a chap in
+the same form as your cousin. By the by, don't mention Newall to your
+cousin. It's like waving a red flag before a mad bull. They're this
+way."
+
+He crossed his two forefingers as he spoke, as an indication of Stanley
+and Newall's attitude to each other.
+
+Hal pondered over this information for a moment. His cousin, then, had
+his enemies? By the brief glimpse which Plunger had given him of the
+life at Garside, he could see that it was not all plain sailing. There
+were deeper currents than any he had seen at Gaffer Quelch's school. The
+waves beat with stronger force, and there were shoals and rocks.
+
+"Who'll take the empty bed? Will it be left empty?"
+
+"There's not much fear of that. I wish there would, but they're sure to
+put some fresher in it. I hope he's a decent chap, that's all! If he
+isn't, we must make it warm for him. But come along, let's get outside!"
+
+They turned to the door, but as they did so it opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered, followed by Hibbert, the weak little hunchback, whom we have
+already met with in the grounds. The deep-set eyes of the science master
+went to Plunger, from Plunger to Hal, whom he had never seen before.
+
+"Who are you? What are you doing here, sir?"
+
+He spoke in a sharp, quick voice, and Harry knew at once that he was in
+the presence of one of the masters, and the same instinct somehow told
+him that the master was Mr. Weevil, of whom he had heard, but never
+seen.
+
+"I'm Harry Moncrief, cousin of Stanley Moncrief, sir."
+
+"Oh!" The master half closed his eyes as he spoke. Hal thought that he
+was going off to sleep as he stood there. Plunger knew better. He knew
+that Mr. Weevil had the habit of seeing a good deal more through his
+half-closed eyes than when they were wide open, and that he was taking
+"full stock"--a mental inventory--of Harry. He kept them closed for so
+long that Harry felt more and more certain that he was going to sleep.
+When he thought he was right off, the master startled him by opening
+them to their widest extent, as much as to say, "Thought me napping, did
+you? But I'm not! I'm awake!--wide awake!--very much awake!"
+
+"Glad to meet you!" he said in a softer voice. "Trust you will get on
+well at Garside. Your father is a gentleman of some distinction. I hope
+you will follow in his footsteps. This is Hibbert"--introducing the
+hunchback. "He also is a new boy. I trust you will be friends--close
+friends. He has no friends or relatives in England. His father is abroad
+on foreign service. That appeals to your sympathy, as it has appealed to
+mine--does it not?--and will draw you closer to Hibbert. He will occupy
+this dormitory--the bed vacated by Mellor." Then, turning to Hibbert: "I
+hope you will prove more loyal to Garside than your predecessor--Mellor,
+I mean--and that you will endeavour, along with Moncrief here, to keep
+up the best traditions of Garside. You see our motto for the year"--he
+pointed to the motto as he spoke--"'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.'"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Keep to that, and you won't go far wrong."
+
+When he had given this advice, the master left the dormitory with
+Hibbert, who, occupied in observing his new quarters and companions, had
+not spoken during the interview.
+
+"A queer sort of chap, our new bedfellow, isn't it, Freddy?"
+
+"And Weevil's a beastly fraud!" said Plunger, with a shrug of the
+shoulders. "But, come, we must hurry up! You haven't yet been introduced
+to good old Bax."
+
+Soon they were in the grounds again. The same crowd of boys that had
+followed them to the matron's was hanging about the door as they went
+out, and began tittering again as Harry came in sight.
+
+Harry did not notice them, nor did he notice the wink that Plunger gave
+them as he glanced in their direction.
+
+"Great Scott!" he suddenly exclaimed. "There's Bax! Hurry up, Hal!"
+
+And, linking his arm in Harry's, he hurried him in the direction of a
+short, somewhat corpulent man in buttons, who was just coming from the
+lodge.
+
+"Is it the porter?" asked Harry.
+
+"Yes, the porter. You haven't forgotten the rules? Hurry up!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A BAD COMMENCEMENT FOR THE TERM
+
+
+No need to tell Harry to hurry up. He was as anxious to introduce
+himself to the porter as Plunger could have been. So, running forward,
+he quickly gained the porter's side, and brought his hand down twice,
+vigorously, upon that worthy's shoulder, and, before Bax had recovered
+from his astonishment, dug the forefinger of his right hand sharply into
+his side, exclaiming:
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Bax? Age, twelve--just turned; weight, five stone
+ten; biceps, eight inches; chest, twenty-eight; vaccinated, three
+places!"
+
+The little porter grew purple in the face. He gasped for breath. When he
+had recovered, he returned the vigorous slaps he had received upon the
+back by a still more vigorous slap upon the head of Harry.
+
+"Vaccinated in three places, are you, young gent. That will vaccinate
+you in four. Don't get practising any of your larks on Bax. He's not the
+one to stand it, young gent."
+
+And, so saying, the porter strutted indignantly off. Harry had reeled
+under the vigorous blow of the porter; but just before he recovered, a
+hand came down on his top-hat, and crushed it over his ears, while a
+voice cried, amid roars of laughter, "Vaccinated in four places!"
+
+As Harry with difficulty drew himself from under the crushed hat, he
+found himself confronted by the boy who had crushed it. It was Robert
+Newall--the boy who had taunted the hunchback. He was a big,
+strong-looking fellow, with sandy hair, prominent nose, prominent teeth,
+and bold, self-confident face.
+
+"Vaccinated in four places!" repeated Newall, with a mocking laugh.
+"What asylum have you escaped from, kiddie?"
+
+"Who are you? What did you do that for?" gasped Harry indignantly,
+smoothing out his hat, and looking round helplessly for his friend
+Plunger. But now that one of the Senior Form had taken up the baiting,
+Plunger had been compelled to give way to him. He was only a cipher in
+the mob of laughing, jeering boys who had gathered round Harry.
+
+"Chest, twenty-eight inches. What a Samson it is!" jeered Newall. "All
+your own?" He tapped Harry smartly on the chest with his knuckles, as
+though he were testing it. "Yes, genuine article. You're a wonder--a
+perfect wonder! And what's the biceps! Eight inches! Why, it's a regular
+Hercules! It isn't every day that a marvel like you comes to Garside; so
+walk round and show your muscle, kid."
+
+Harry now saw that they were poking fun at him. His face was scarlet; he
+was quivering with indignation. He was choking. The tears seemed very
+near the floodgates. It was only with a strong effort he kept them back.
+He did not answer his tormentor, but stared at him blank-eyed.
+
+"Did you hear what I said?" went on Newall. "Come, wake up--walk!"
+
+With a flip of his hand he sent the hat which Harry had been trying to
+smooth out whirling amongst the throng of boys. There was a shriek of
+laughter as the hat was caught, and sent whirling in turn to another
+part of the throng. This was the finishing stroke to Harry. He burst
+into a flood of passionate tears. The public school boy holds in
+contempt the boy who cries. He regards it as girlish, unmanly.
+
+"Oh, the fresher's a soft!" came from one in the throng.
+
+"A soft, a soft!" passed from lip to lip. Plunger alone was dumb. He had
+not wished that the joke which he had begun at Harry's expense should go
+so far; but now that it had been taken from his hands he was powerless
+to stop it.
+
+"Oh, it's a squealer--a dear little squealer! Has it brought its bib and
+tuck and feeding-bottle?" went on Newall, amid the laughter of his
+companions.
+
+Harry tried to choke back the scalding tears, which were coursing down
+his cheeks.
+
+"You're--you're a cruel brute!" came bursting from his lips.
+
+"Oh, the little squealer's got a tongue, and it can speak! Come, come,
+walk!"
+
+Harry did not stir. So Newall gave him a push which sent him over to one
+side of the throng, where another push sent him quickly back again. The
+sport was only at its commencement, when it was suddenly checked by
+Stanley Moncrief forcing his way through the throng, closely followed by
+Paul Percival.
+
+They had been in the fives court while Plunger and Harry had been inside
+the schoolhouse, and it was not till their return to the ground that
+they caught sight of the throng of boys, of which Harry was the centre.
+On making their way towards it, Paul soon saw what was happening.
+
+"They're baiting a fresher!" he exclaimed.
+
+"And it's my young cousin!" cried Stanley.
+
+He had no objection to a little fun at Harry's expense. Indeed, it was
+the ordeal which every new-comer to Garside had to go through in some
+form or other. But this seemed more than fun--more than a joke.
+Otherwise, his cousin would not be in tears. And it was not only the
+sight of his cousin in tears--it was the sight of his tormentor--Newall,
+whom he cordially disliked.
+
+"Stop that!" he cried, with flashing eyes and clenched fists, as he
+reached the centre of the throng. "He's my cousin!"
+
+"Oh, your cousin, Moncrief!" answered Newall, resenting this intrusion
+on Stanley's part. "Nice little girl, isn't she? Heard her squeal?"
+
+At a gesture from him, Viner--one of the boys who belonged to the
+dormitory in which Harry had been placed--stooped down at the back of
+the unsuspecting lad. Newall gave him a sudden push, with the result, of
+course, that he came to the ground over Viner's back. Unfortunately his
+head struck on the gravel, and when he scrambled to his feet again
+blood was flowing freely from a cut in his head.
+
+Stanley Moncrief was a quick, hot-tempered lad, and his temper was now
+thoroughly aroused. Before Paul could check him, he sprang at Newall,
+when he saw what had happened to his cousin. The two wrestled for a
+moment, then separated.
+
+Paul stepped in to stop fighting, but before he could do so Stanley had
+shot out his arm blindly. It passed over Paul's shoulder, caught Newall
+on the mouth, and sent him reeling to the ground.
+
+Angry passions thus roused, it is impossible to say how the quarrel
+would have ended; but Mr. Weevil appeared on the scene, just as Newall
+had leapt to his feet, eager to return the blow Stanley had given him.
+
+"What does this mean?" he demanded sternly. "Fighting?"
+
+Not a word fell from the boys. The tumult had ceased as by magic.
+
+"Do you hear me? I will stand no trifling! A nice commencement of the
+term. Taking advantage of the absence of Dr. Colville, eh?" came the
+stern voice of the science master, as his eyes went round the group. Dr.
+Colville, the Head of Garfield, had been taken ill during the vacation,
+and had been ordered complete rest from his duties for another month or
+so by his medical adviser. In his absence the reins of government had
+fallen into the hands of Mr. Weevil, as second in command.
+
+Still no answer from the boys. They were as silent as before. It seemed
+as though they had been smitten with sudden dumbness.
+
+"Lost your tongues, eh? They were going briskly enough a minute since!"
+went on the master grimly. Then he paused, and fixed his eyes upon
+Stanley. "Moncrief major! It was you who started this disturbance. You
+struck Newall!"
+
+"Yes, sir, I struck Newall," assented Stanley.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Ask Newall, sir."
+
+"I am asking you, sir!" came the sharp retort. "Why did you strike
+Newall? Quick, your answer!"
+
+Stanley waited for Newall to speak; but Newall's lips, bleeding and
+swollen from the blow, were tightly compressed. He scarcely heard the
+master's words. He could only think of the blow he had received. It was
+rankling in his mind, and turning to bitter hate the ill-feeling that
+already existed between him and Stanley. It was the first seed of hate
+that in the time to come was to bring forth a bitter harvest of tares.
+Ah, boys, beware of the first seeds of hate! Pluck them from you, as you
+would your hand from the fire. Otherwise they will spring up so quickly
+that they will wind themselves, like poisonous weeds, round every fibre
+of your being, blighting and strangling all the better impulses of your
+nature, killing, above all, the choicest blossom that comes to us from
+the Divine garden--the blossom of love. Where hate flourishes, love
+cannot be. There is no room for the two. Never since the world began
+have they ever flourished side by side--never since the seeds of hate
+were planted by the serpent in the first garden, the Garden of Eden.
+Beware, then, of the seeds of hate!
+
+From a fine sense of honour, Stanley remained silent. Now that he had
+struck Newall he had no wish to implicate him. He began to feel some
+pity for him as he saw the blood slowly trickling from his mouth.
+
+"Am I to understand that you refuse to speak, Moncrief?" demanded Mr.
+Weevil angrily. Stanley remained obstinately silent.
+
+"Perhaps you will allow me to explain, sir!" began Paul.
+
+Instantly Mr. Weevil swung round to him.
+
+"Not a word, sir! Have the goodness to speak when you're spoken to. The
+explanation must first come from Moncrief. If he has not yet learned the
+lesson of obedience, he must begin to learn it. When he has given me his
+explanation, I shall be quite willing to hear whatever else has to be
+said. Now, Moncrief, I am waiting. It is your last chance."
+
+He waited, but Stanley remained obstinately silent. Mr. Weevil's sallow
+face darkened.
+
+"Very well; I'm very sorry, but I must teach you that I'm not to be
+defied simply because Dr. Colville is away. I must teach you that I
+mean to be obeyed during his absence. Perhaps a few hours in Dormitory X
+will bring you to your senses."
+
+Dormitory X--a shortened form for "Extra Dormitory"--was a dormitory
+apart from all the rest in which, on rare occasions, a pupil was
+confined. It was not, as Mr. Weevil had said, a very good commencement
+for the term; but Stanley saw that it was useless rebelling, so he
+submitted to his fate as cheerfully as he could.
+
+"You haven't acted very well over this matter," said Paul, crossing over
+to where Newall was standing, as Stanley walked away a prisoner.
+
+"Acted very well!" exclaimed Newall, all the passion that had been
+rankling within him surging up. "How do you mean?"
+
+"You ought to have spoken up. Moncrief was waiting for you to speak."
+
+"Speak!" cried Newall contemptuously. "Why should I have spoken? I
+didn't want to speak. All I wanted was to get that blow back that
+Moncrief gave me; and I'll have it back yet, if--if I die for it!"
+
+He turned on his heel and walked away. There was so much passion and
+hatred in the words that even the lightest-hearted amongst the boys were
+impressed by them.
+
+"Newall's got his dander up," said Sedgefield, a rather good-looking,
+fair boy, another of the occupants of Harry's dormitory. "And Weevil
+looked as though he meant business. What a start for the term!"
+
+They strayed away one by one. Paul, turning over in his mind what had
+happened, thought he was alone. But presently he was conscious that some
+one was standing by his side. It was Harry Moncrief.
+
+"Have you forgotten me, Percival?" the boy asked timidly, for his
+confidence in himself had been shaken by the events of the last
+half-hour.
+
+"Oh, no; I beg pardon for not speaking to you. I'm glad to see you at
+Garside."
+
+"And I--I'm beginning to be very sorry that I ever came here. I've made
+an ass of myself, and got Stan into a mess in the bargain. What's to be
+done?"
+
+"Nothing--just yet. It won't hurt Stanley to be by himself a little
+while. I'm as much to blame as anybody, perhaps, as I ought to have put
+you on your guard against Plunger. But it's bad form here to spoil the
+fun of any one, and that is why I was silent. We shall all survive it.
+It doesn't hurt us to be laughed at sometimes. Most of us have had our
+turn at it; so don't be down in the mouth."
+
+He linked his arm in Harry's, and under the influence of Paul's cheerful
+talk the younger boy threw off the depression that had begun to steal
+over him, and was more cheerful. And all the time he was speaking a
+strong resolve was silently forming in Paul's breast. Whatever happened
+he would visit Stanley in Dormitory X that night!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+FOR THE SAKE OF A CHUM
+
+
+Nine--half-past! The clock in the tower had chimed the half-hour when
+lights were out in Paul's dormitory. In the senior dormitories there
+were only four beds--two less than in the junior. In that where Paul
+slept there were, therefore, three other occupants beside
+himself--Stanley Moncrief, Waterman, and Parfitt.
+
+Parfitt was not on particularly good terms with most of the fellows. He
+was one of Newall's cronies. Waterman was an easy-going fellow, who was
+on friendly terms with everybody, so long as they did not disturb him
+too much. He was one of those indolent boys, with plenty of talent, if
+they only care to exercise it. The disposition to do so, however, only
+came by fits and starts. In another respect, too, he was like a great
+many other boys--ay, and girls, too--and that was--he would often go to
+a great deal more pains to avoid a difficulty than it would have caused
+him by boldly facing it. So true is the proverb that lazy people often
+take most pains.
+
+Ten o'clock! Paul looked from his bed. There was the bed in which
+Stanley ought to have been sleeping--empty! Next to that, Waterman. He
+had been asleep for some time. Beyond his bed was Parfitt's.
+
+Was he sleeping? Paul was not quite certain, but he thought he was. It
+would be better to wait a little longer, however. There was no hurry.
+
+He could see in outline, on the wall beyond Parfitt's bed, the motto for
+the year, "Be ye stedfast, unmovable." He liked that motto. It had
+appealed to him when he had first seen it on the wall, and he had often
+repeated it to himself since. He had repeated it frequently to himself
+that night.
+
+"Be ye stedfast"--stedfast to his friend.
+
+The empty bed beside him made him sad. Stan ought to have been resting
+there. By the stern decree of Mr. Weevil he had been turned from his
+bed, and was at that moment a prisoner, in solitary confinement. For
+what? Simply because he had refused to speak. Oh, it was bitterly
+unjust. If any one ought to have been sent to Dormitory X it was Newall,
+but he had escaped without even a word of blame.
+
+Half-past ten! Paul listened again. He felt certain that Parfitt was at
+last sleeping; so he slipped out of bed as he had slipped into it--with
+his trousers and stockings on. He drew on his coat; opened the dormitory
+door, and glanced along the corridor. As he did so, the figure in the
+end bed moved, and glanced in the direction of Paul; then breathed hard,
+as though it were sleeping.
+
+Paul, unconscious that Parfitt had seen him, passed into the corridor.
+Dormitory X was in the room next to that occupied by Mr. Weevil, on the
+floor above. Paul crept up the stairs. They seemed to creak horribly,
+but it was the silence of the building that magnified the sound to
+Paul's ears. He glanced along the passage. A light was still burning in
+Mr. Weevil's room. He could see it stealing faintly through a crack in
+the door.
+
+"Studying late. Trying some scientific experiment, I expect. The fellows
+say that he burns the midnight oil a lot. That's what gives him such a
+sleepy look sometimes, I suppose. No wonder he's such a dab at science."
+
+Paul knew that it was useless to try to get to Stanley along the
+passage. He might succeed in getting past the master's room, but what
+then? The door would be locked, and he could not pass through a locked
+door. Dormitory X had a window looking on to the parapet outside, and it
+was by this window he hoped to gain Stanley's room. There was a small
+lavatory at the end of the corridor, and this likewise had a window
+leading to the roof.
+
+"Be stedfast!" he whispered to himself, as he climbed through the window
+to the parapet. It was a rash thing to do--a wrong thing. Though Paul
+might have questioned the justice of what Mr. Weevil had done in putting
+his chum in Dormitory X., he had no right, from a chivalrous feeling of
+friendship, to run the risk of a foolhardy adventure at night. But Paul
+thought that he was right, and that, by visiting Stanley, he was
+interpreting in the best way he could the school motto, "Be stedfast."
+
+There were but few stars in the heavens as he stepped on to the parapet.
+The wind blew freshly, and the clouds were scurrying quickly across the
+moon. It was a plain Gothic parapet, in keeping with the time-worn
+building. It rose a couple of feet above the gutter, and the latter, in
+turn, was nearly of the same width; so that there was not much
+difficulty in walking along it to the dormers.
+
+Glancing along the gutter, Paul saw that the light was still burning in
+Mr. Weevil's room. The window beyond was in darkness. That was where
+Stanley was? Would it be possible for him to reach it without being seen
+by Mr. Weevil? He meant trying. Stealing cautiously along the gutter, he
+stopped within a yard or so of the master's window.
+
+What was that? The sound of voices, and it came from Mr. Weevil's room.
+
+"Chewing over science with one of the other masters," thought Paul.
+"It's jolly late to be talking that dry stuff. But hanged if I don't
+think Weevil talks it in his sleep; he's so hot on it. He ought to be
+amongst the fossils in the museum. I don't believe he's got any warm
+blood in him. He was never meant for a human being. Steady--steady."
+
+He knelt on the gutter, and stretched himself along till he was just
+able to peer into the room. A lamp was burning on the table, on which
+were strewn a number of papers and documents. Over these two men were
+leaning, as though they were earnestly discussing their contents.
+
+"Some musty old parchments from the Assyrians or the lost Ten Tribes, I
+expect," Paul told himself. "But who's the other fossil? I don't seem to
+know him. Not one of the masters here."
+
+He could not see either of the faces very clearly as they bent over the
+documents; but one he knew to be Mr. Weevil's. The other was a
+stranger's.
+
+"Why doesn't he look up?" Paul asked himself, growing curious.
+
+The man was tracing something with his finger on the document before
+him, and Mr. Weevil was following the direction of his finger with the
+closest attention. Presently the man raised his head. In spite of
+himself Paul cried out. The men heard the cry, and he had only just time
+to draw back as they turned to the window.
+
+Paul lay there breathing hard. Would he be found out? His heart beat
+violently as he heard footsteps approach the window. It was opened, and
+the head of the master thrust out. Paul thought that he must be found
+out. There seemed no help for it. He gave himself up for lost.
+Fortunately, the light of the moon was quite obscured at this moment,
+and Paul seemed only a part of the shadows that were flitting over
+parapet and roof.
+
+"It sounded very much like the cry of a human being," said the master,
+peering out, "but it couldn't have been. It must have been the wind, or
+a night-bird."
+
+Then, to Paul's inexpressible relief, he heard the window close. Some
+seconds elapsed, however, before he ventured to look up. He feared, in
+spite of the closed window, to find the eyes of the master fixed upon
+him. Should he turn back? No; that would be acting the coward's part.
+Besides, he must catch another glimpse of the face he had seen.
+
+Presently he heard the murmur of voices within, and knew that the two
+had resumed their interrupted interview. So, taking his courage in both
+hands, Paul peeped once more into the room.
+
+Yes, he was sure of it. The man with whom Mr. Weevil was talking was
+Israel Zuker, the German Jew--the man who had tried to wrest from him
+Mr. Moncrief's letter--the man for whom he believed his father had
+sacrificed his life!
+
+Why had Zuker come there? Paul would have given a good deal to know what
+the two were talking about, but not a word of their conversation reached
+his ears. They were bending low, and spoke in little more than whispers.
+For one thing, that was an advantage. They were so earnestly engaged in
+conversation, that they were the less likely to notice anything that
+happened outside. Paul therefore determined not to put off any longer
+the effort to reach Stanley.
+
+He crept quickly to the other side of the window, then waited. He could
+still hear the hum of voices, so he felt sure that he had not been seen.
+
+"Now for old Stan. I'm sure he won't be asleep."
+
+Paul crept close to the window, and tapped on it with his nail.
+
+"Who's there?" said Stanley.
+
+The window was cautiously opened, and Paul slipped into the room.
+
+"Paul! You don't mean to say it's you!" exclaimed Stanley as their hands
+met in the darkness. "What's brought you here?"
+
+"To see you, of course."
+
+"Well, you can't see much of me, I'm thinking, by this precious light;
+so, if you won't mind me saying it, old chap, it was silly of you to
+come."
+
+"No it wasn't. I couldn't bear the thought of your moping here by
+yourself, and it was a ghastly shame of Weevil to send you."
+
+"Oh, come to think of it quietly, he was right enough! I dare say I
+could have got out of the pickle by speaking, but I was obstinate.
+Solitude isn't so bad," he added cheerfully. "It helps you to chew the
+cud of reflection."
+
+"And a bitter cud it is sometimes. That's why I've come. It's better for
+two to try their teeth on it than one."
+
+"It's very good of you, Paul, coming to me. Is Harry all right?"
+
+"Oh, he's all right, though he was rather cut up at your having to come
+here for him. It's Newall you'll have to look out for. He won't be
+satisfied till he's paid back that blow you gave him. He told me as
+much."
+
+"What did he say? Tell me the exact words."
+
+"After you had gone away with Mr. Weevil, I told Newall what I
+thought--that he had acted meanly in not speaking up. 'Why should I have
+spoken?' he burst out. 'I didn't want to speak. All I wanted was to get
+that blow back that Moncrief gave me; and I'll have it back, if I die
+for it!'"
+
+A sound of footsteps could be heard in the next room. In his desire to
+console Stanley in his solitude, Paul had said nothing about what he had
+seen in the master's room, though it had been uppermost in his mind all
+the time he had been speaking to Stanley.
+
+"Hallo! What's that? Weevil's guest on the move. Who is he, I wonder?"
+
+"Hush! Not so loud!" cautioned Paul, clutching Stanley by the arm. "You
+would never guess. You remember what happened to me on the night I took
+that packet to Oakville?"
+
+Paul had confided to his chum all that happened on that night.
+
+"Don't I? And I'm not likely to forget it in a hurry. I only wish that
+I'd been with you then, just as you're with me now. What about it?"
+
+"What about it? Why, the man in the next room is Israel Zuker."
+
+"Paul!" cried Stanley, rising to his feet in amazement.
+
+"Hush--don't I tell you!"--again clutching him by the arm, and pressing
+him to his former position. "Israel Zuker! I'm sure of it."
+
+"But what can he want with Mr. Weevil, and what can Weevil want with
+him?"
+
+"Ask me another. That's what floors me. Listen! Weevil is letting him
+out."
+
+They remained perfectly silent, as they listened to the footsteps in the
+passage; at first they were quite close, then they died away. Presently
+they heard Mr. Weevil returning alone. He paused as he was on the point
+of entering his own door, as though struck with an idea.
+
+"What's he up to now?" whispered Paul.
+
+They could hear the master enter the next room; then come out again. He
+stopped at Dormitory X.
+
+In another moment the light of a candle could be seen through a crevice
+in the door, and a key was put in the lock.
+
+"He's coming here!" exclaimed Stanley.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+GOOD ADVICE
+
+
+Instantly Paul crept under the bed, while Stanley as quickly crept in.
+Not an instant too soon, for the next moment the door opened and Mr.
+Weevil, candle in hand, entered. He held the light up, and glanced round
+the room; then came softly to the bed, and glanced down at Stanley.
+
+Stanley feigned sleep, but directly the light fell on his face he
+started up as though suddenly wakened, and, staring at the master with
+bewildered eyes, cried:
+
+"Where--where am I? What--what's the matter? Oh, it's Mr. Weevil. I beg
+your pardon, sir; but you so startled me. Is anything wrong?"
+
+"No; nothing wrong." Then the master added with a grim smile: "I only
+wanted to see if you were quite--comfortable."
+
+"As comfortable as one can be in a place like this, sir."
+
+"It was your own fault you came here, remember, and it is an easy matter
+for you to come out. I hope you've decided to give me an explanation
+to-morrow of that disgraceful scene I witnessed in the grounds."
+
+Stanley did not answer; and Mr. Weevil went out, locking the door once
+more behind him. It was not till he had gained his room that Paul crept
+from under the bed.
+
+"I put him off the scent, didn't I?" whispered Stanley. "If I hadn't
+started up like I did, he would have looked under the bed. I'm certain
+he would."
+
+"Very likely. The fat would have been in the fire then, with a
+vengeance. But how about the explanation he asks for? Why not? A few
+words will do it."
+
+"It's not coming from me, if I stick here the term through," came the
+dogged answer. "Let Newall speak first; I'll follow."
+
+Paul knew that it was extremely difficult to move Stanley from his
+purpose, when once he had decided on it. So he did not press the matter
+further just then, hoping that the morning would bring some change in
+the situation. His mind went back to the scene in the next room, and
+Stanley's went in the same direction, for the next moment he changed the
+subject by asking:
+
+"How did Weevil get to know that man Zuker, I wonder?"
+
+"That's what puzzles me. The only explanation I can see is that Weevil
+came across him in his travels, and is rubbing up his German by talking
+with him. Or perhaps they're interested in the same branch of science."
+
+"It's rather a late hour to patter German or science, isn't it?"
+
+The same thing occurred to Paul, but he could think of no other
+explanation of the mystery.
+
+"I wonder if the light's out now?"
+
+Paul climbed to the dormer, and, gently opening the window, looked along
+to that of the next room. It was now in darkness.
+
+"Well, now you had better get back to your own bed," said Stanley, when
+Paul had communicated to him the news.
+
+"I've come here for a night's lodging, and you're not going to be so
+hard-hearted as to turn me out."
+
+Stanley did not speak--in fact, he would have found it difficult at that
+moment. The fidelity of his friend appealed to him as few things could
+have done. It made him feel awfully soft, like a big girl or one of the
+kids in the junior forms. A senior schoolboy has always a great aversion
+to the display of emotion. He has a notion that it's unmanly and weak;
+so that when Stanley did speak he assumed a gruffness he was far from
+feeling.
+
+"Well, you're a muff--that's all I've got to say. I kick in my sleep
+sometimes--fearfully; so if you should find yourself on the floor in the
+night time, don't say that I haven't warned you."
+
+Paul smiled as he coiled himself up by the side of his chum; and soon
+they were fast asleep. Paul woke up at daybreak, and having expressed a
+hope that he would see Stanley back in his place that day, returned
+without mishap to his dormitory. The light was only just stealing into
+the room as he entered. His three companions seemed to be sleeping as
+placidly as they had done when he left them.
+
+"I wonder if I've been missed?" he asked himself, as he looked at the
+sleepers. "I don't think so."
+
+Had he seen the figure in the end bed--the same that had watched him the
+night before--open his eyes cautiously, and watch him curiously when his
+back was turned, he would have come to a different conclusion. However,
+he was just as unconscious that Parfitt was watching him as he had been
+the night before. He lay down for another hour, then rose before first
+bell had sounded, washed, dressed, and went out into the grounds.
+
+Early as it was he found Harry Moncrief there before him. He wore rather
+a dejected appearance.
+
+"I've had a beastly night, Paul," he said, coming forward to greet him.
+"I couldn't sleep thinking of Stan. It's the longest night I've ever
+had, and all the other fellows were snoring like steam-engines, except
+that new chap, Hibbert. I rather fancy Plunger had been playing pranks
+with his bed, but he didn't shout out or take on; so he was pluckier
+than I was. Do you think the fellows here will look down on me for
+snivelling?"
+
+"I cannot say. I hope so. Is young Hibbert out?"
+
+"He's somewhere about the ground, I think."
+
+Paul searched about the ground, but could see nothing of him. He turned
+into the field adjoining, and there he found him, sitting on the trunk
+of a tree, quite apart from the other boys, with his face resting on his
+hands.
+
+"He's just as soft as young Moncrief, but he's too proud to show it.
+He's been crying, I know."
+
+If the boy had been, he brushed away all sign of it when he heard Paul's
+footsteps, and started quickly to his feet. The frightened look in his
+eyes disappeared when he saw who it was. They grew quite bright in an
+instant.
+
+"What are you doing here, youngster?" said Paul kindly, placing a hand
+upon the boy's shoulder. "You're not going to be a moper, are you? That
+will never do."
+
+"A moper? No; but I'm different, I think, from most other boys. God has
+made me different, you see"--with a feeble attempt at a smile, as he
+glanced at his shoulder, "I don't care for the games most boys care for,
+and--and I like quiet places like this, away from the crowd."
+
+Paul could not help a feeling of pity as he followed the boy's glance to
+his deformed shoulder. He was acutely sensitive to his deformity, and
+that, perhaps, was the main reason why he shrank from the society of
+other boys--why he preferred solitude.
+
+"Have the youngsters in your dormitory been ill-treating you?" he asked,
+regarding Hibbert closely as he put the question.
+
+"Oh, no!" came the quick answer. "They've had their fun, of course,
+which I enjoyed as much as any of them. I never mind a joke--indeed I
+don't; so don't think they put upon me."
+
+Paul did not inquire what the jokes were. It was not well to inquire too
+curiously into the jokes of the juniors. He had been through that mill
+himself. Besides, though he pitied Hibbert, he didn't want to encourage
+him to tell tales out of school, especially as the boy seemed averse to
+the practice.
+
+"You're a plucky little chap and as good as you're plucky, I'll
+warrant."
+
+"Good--good? No, don't say that!" cried Hibbert, so earnestly that Paul
+could not help regarding him in wonder.
+
+He stood with his thin hands pressed tightly into each other, so that
+the nails seemed piercing into his flesh; and the eyes that looked into
+Paul's were quite wild and restless. In that moment it flashed into
+Paul's mind that he had seen eyes like Hibbert's before, but where he
+could not for the life of him make out.
+
+"Well, I won't say it if you don't like it," he laughed; "but you're the
+first one I've ever met with who objected to being thought good. I won't
+ruffle your feathers again. Come, let's get back to the ground!"
+
+On entering the ground one of the first they came across was Newall,
+along with his crony, Parfitt. Remembering the cruel jibe Newall had
+flung at Hibbert on the previous day, and what had afterwards happened
+between him and Stanley, Paul tried to avoid him. He felt as though he
+could hardly trust himself in his presence. But Newall would not be
+avoided. He came straight to them, and great was Paul's surprise when he
+said:
+
+"I think the advice you gave me yesterday was right enough, Percival. I
+ought to have spoken when the master asked for an explanation of the
+shindy between Moncrief and me. It might have saved him a night in that
+solitary hole--Dormitory X. But I mean speaking up this morning."
+
+"I'm very glad to hear it. I'm sure it's the right thing. Moncrief will
+be as pleased as I am."
+
+"Do you think so? Well, I'm glad of that; and I'm glad you think it's
+the right thing. I've slept on it, and that's what it's come to. Do you
+know, Percival, I'm beginning to think you an authority on the right
+thing to do? Parfitt is of the same mind. We were talking it over as you
+came up, so your ears must have been burning."
+
+Paul regarded him quickly. Was he in jest or earnest? His face was
+perfectly grave; so was the face of Parfitt.
+
+"Thanks for your flattering opinion. I shall know exactly how much to
+take to myself after you've spoken to Mr. Weevil."
+
+In spite of the apparent frankness of his manner and sincerity of tone,
+Paul could not help thinking that Newall was quietly mocking him--that
+he had no intention whatever of speaking to the master.
+
+"That's the boy who called me a dromedary," said Hibbert, as they turned
+away. "I shan't forget him. He has a cruel face."
+
+Hibbert spoke with more bitterness than Paul had yet heard from him, and
+there was a sparkle in his eyes, which sometimes had so much pain in
+them, that Paul had never seen in them before.
+
+"Now, look here, youngster, if you're going to remember every rough word
+you hear at Garside, you'll have to have a very good memory. So take my
+advice, forget all the things that aren't worth remembering, and
+remember only those that are. The jibe that fell from Newall isn't worth
+remembering. It's one of the things to forget. Promise me that you'll
+forget it?"
+
+"I'll try, as you ask me," said the boy sincerely, "though it'll be
+jolly hard. Things worth remembering! Yes, I know of one--your kindness.
+I shall always remember that."
+
+And before Paul could answer him he was gone.
+
+"A queer little beggar!" thought Paul. "He's got a good heart, though,
+in spite of the queer outside of him. Poor little chap, how lonely he
+seems!"
+
+Paul was more anxious than he had been for a long time for school to
+begin that day. It seemed for the sole purpose of thwarting him that it
+commenced later instead of earlier. Instead of commencing at the usual
+hour only one of the masters out of the six entered as the clock struck
+nine. Ten minutes elapsed, and still no masters. The boys commenced
+talking in whispers. What had happened? Something was wrong. An accident
+must have happened. Or could it be that the illness of the Head had
+taken a turn for the worse?
+
+Paul feared that the absence of the masters must be in some way due to
+Stanley. Perhaps they had discovered the visit he--Paul--had paid him in
+the night. Perhaps they were discussing what was to be done with him.
+These and a hundred other suspicions flashed through his mind as he
+waited the entrance of the masters.
+
+The hubbub in the school had grown louder. The boys no longer talked in
+whispers; their tongues were wagging loudly. Mr. Travers, the master in
+charge, made no effort to restrain them. He was himself talking to one
+of the Sixth Form boys.
+
+Suddenly, however, he broke off, and pressed the bell.
+
+"Silence!" he cried.
+
+In an instant the hubbub of voices ceased, as the door opened and the
+masters, headed by Mr. Weevil, entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+TORN FROM THE BLACK BOOK
+
+
+Mr. Weevil came to his desk. The other masters took up their positions
+at the head of the different forms. Mr. Weevil half closed his eyes for
+an instant; then, opening them, fixed them fully upon the eager boys
+before him as he said:
+
+"I have a few words to say to you before work commences, boys, and I
+regret to say they are not of a very pleasant character. A most
+discreditable act--a criminal act--has been committed since we last met
+in this hall. This desk"--he turned from the boys to the desk, and
+brought his hand down upon it sharply--"has been forced open during the
+night, and five pages torn from the Black Book. That is not all. Admiral
+Talbot--one of the esteemed governors of this school--has offered a
+valuable prize, as you are all aware, for the best essay on 'The
+Invasion of Great Britain.' I have taken a great interest in the
+subject, and had prepared a few notes, together with a rough plan of the
+attempt made by the Dutch under Admiral Tromp to reach these shores.
+Those notes have gone."
+
+The boys glanced from one to the other as Mr. Weevil paused. Who was
+guilty? They had no great love for the Black Book, for in the pages of
+that black-bound ledger were entered the names of every culprit who had
+been guilty of breaking the rules and had received punishment at the
+hands of the masters. It could be brought forward at any time in
+evidence against them. They would willingly have stood by and seen it
+burnt, but forcing open the master's desk, stealing from it important
+papers, and tearing leaves from the dreaded book was another matter. It
+was theft--theft, too, under its worst guise, for the desk had been
+opened at night-time, when the rest of the school were supposed to be
+sleeping.
+
+"The last entry I made in this book," went on Mr. Weevil, holding up the
+Black Book, "was last evening, immediately after school was over. I had
+entered in it the reason of my sending Moncrief to Dormitory X. Before
+returning the book to its place, I glanced through my notes; then placed
+the book on top of them, and locked the desk. I entered the room about
+half-past eight this morning, and, on going to my desk, at once found
+that it had been opened--for what despicable purpose I have explained to
+you. In the absence of Dr. Colville, I consulted with my
+colleagues--your masters. That is the reason why the school has not
+commenced at the usual hour. We have looked at the matter in every way,
+and can only come to the conclusion that some one amongst you has been
+guilty of this petty felony. The culprit is pretty well sure to be found
+out in the long run, so that it will be much better for him to speak up
+now. The longer he keeps silent, the heavier will be his punishment.
+Now, then, I am waiting."
+
+Deep silence fell upon the school. Still, the boys glanced from one to
+the other. Parfitt flashed a look along the form to where Paul was
+sitting. Baldry quietly pinched Plunger, and Plunger returned the
+compliment by kicking him under the form; but no word broke the silence.
+
+Failing to get an answer to his appeal, Mr. Weevil tried another plan.
+
+"Did any boy leave his dormitory after lights were out last night?"
+
+A struggle went on in Paul's breast for a moment. Should he speak, or
+should he remain silent? If he spoke he would bring upon himself the
+terrible suspicion that he had broken open the master's desk, and had
+torn out the leaves in which were recorded the punishment of Stanley
+Moncrief. It was well known also that he was one of the competitors for
+the essay prize.
+
+And then if he confessed the real reason of his absence from his
+dormitory, who would believe him? Certainly not Mr. Weevil. How could he
+convince him that he was in Dormitory X that night, for had he not
+crawled under the bed at the time he looked in? Should he speak--should
+he speak? Again and again Paul asked himself the question. Why should
+he? What had his absence from his dormitory to do with the theft from
+the master's desk? He had been nowhere near the master's desk, so what
+was the use of speaking? Looking up, he caught the glance of Parfitt.
+
+"What the deuce is Parfitt glaring at me for?" he thought. "Is it
+possible that he could have seen me leave the dormitory?"
+
+As he put to himself the question, the voice of Mr. Weevil once more
+broke the silence:
+
+"Does any boy know whether any of his companions was absent from his
+dormitory last night? Don't let him keep silent under any false notion
+of honour. It is for the honour of the school that he should speak. If
+he speaks, I will take care that no punishment falls upon him."
+
+Paul sat rigid as stone. If Parfitt saw him leave the dormitory, now was
+his time to speak; but no voice broke the silence.
+
+"Very well; I had hoped that the culprit would own up to his fault, or
+that we should have had assistance from some of you to find him out. I
+am disappointed in my expectation. As I have been unable to find the
+culprit with your assistance, I must do so without it. And be sure I
+will," added Mr. Weevil firmly.
+
+Prayers were said and a hymn sung, and the boys were on the point of
+filing out to the different class-rooms, when Newall stepped up to Mr.
+Weevil's desk.
+
+"I hope Moncrief isn't to be kept in Dormitory X any longer, sir," he
+said.
+
+"What's it to do with you--eh?"
+
+"You forget, sir. I was in the row. I ought to have spoken at the time;
+it was I really started the row--not Moncrief."
+
+"You, was it? Let me hear how it all happened."
+
+"Well, I was chaffing a new boy, and the new boy happened to be
+Moncrief's cousin. It upset Moncrief, and I ought to have left off; but
+I didn't. I kept it up, and that's how it was Moncrief came to strike
+me."
+
+"Well, it's very honourable of you to own up to it. If every boy in the
+school was as honest as you, Newall, we should soon find out who was the
+culprit who went to my desk. Moncrief was guilty of a Quixotic act of
+disobedience, as it turns out, and I think, in the circumstances he has
+been sufficiently punished. It is due to you that he is released."
+
+Newall was quite the hero of the school that morning. He had done a
+manly thing in speaking up for Moncrief. That was the general opinion.
+Paul thought the same. He had scarcely expected Newall would act up to
+the promise that he had given him, but he had carried it out to the
+letter. He had, somehow, never liked him, but he couldn't be such a bad
+sort of fellow, after all.
+
+"I must try to get over my prejudice against him," he thought.
+
+So Stanley came back to his form, looking none the worse for the night
+he had spent in Dormitory X.
+
+It was not, however, till he and Paul were in the grounds that they had
+the chance of speaking together.
+
+"I thought Weevil meant keeping me in that wretched dormitory another
+day and night," Stanley said, as Paul cordially greeted him. "How did he
+come to let me out, I wonder?"
+
+"Guess."
+
+"Have you been speaking up for me?"
+
+"No; Mr. Weevil wouldn't listen to me yesterday, and he wouldn't have
+listened this morning. Guess again."
+
+"My young cousin, I suppose," answered Stanley, after a moment's
+reflection. "Has he been crying to Weevil?"
+
+"Wrong again."
+
+"Oh, bother! I give it up, then! Who was it?"
+
+"You would never guess. Newall!"
+
+"What?" Stanley stared at Paul incredulously.
+
+"Fact--Newall. And he did it very well, too. He owned up frankly before
+the masters and all the school that it was he who commenced the
+quarrel."
+
+"Why, I thought he told you that he wouldn't speak?"
+
+"So he did; but he has altered his mind, you see. He told me he was
+going to speak, but I couldn't believe my ears till I actually heard
+him. A night's reflection has done him good, though he hadn't the
+benefit of a change of air in Dormitory X. It's really very decent of
+him, and I rather fancy if I were in your place----"
+
+He paused, as though reflecting on what he should do if he were in
+Stanley's place.
+
+"Well, if you were in my place--go on."
+
+"I should go up to Newall and shake hands with him."
+
+"Would you really?" said Stanley haltingly. "I--I--don't think I can do
+that, Paul. There's so much bad blood between us."
+
+"All the more reason you should shake hands. It's wonderful what a shake
+of the hands does for bad blood. It's the finest leech in the
+world--takes all the bad blood out."
+
+"Oh, you're a better fellow than I am, and can do that sort of thing. I
+can't!"
+
+"Nonsense! It's like a plunge into cold water--quite nice when the
+plunge is once made. Come along! I'll go with you."
+
+He tucked his arm in Stanley's, and together they went in search of
+Newall. They found him with Parfitt and another companion. Stanley
+walked up to him.
+
+"I hear that it's through you, Newall, I've got out of that den I was in
+last night. You've done me a good turn, and, if--if--you don't mind, I'd
+like to shake hands with you."
+
+He held out his hand as he spoke, but Newall took no notice of it. He
+looked straight at Stanley.
+
+"I really didn't know that I'd done you a good turn. What was the good
+turn?"
+
+"Speaking up for me this morning to Mr. Weevil, and getting me out of
+that wretched dormitory."
+
+"Oh, that"--he broke into a mocking laugh--"that! You call that a good
+turn?"
+
+A wave of scarlet came to Stanley's face. The extended hand fell to his
+side. He looked to Paul. Had his friend deceived him? Was this only a
+ruse on his part to make him shake hands with Newall, or had Newall
+taken leave of his senses? He could learn nothing from Paul's face,
+except that it looked just as mystified as he was.
+
+"Certainly it was a good turn. I thoroughly upset Weevil yesterday, and
+goodness knows how much longer he would have kept me a prisoner if you
+hadn't spoken up for me, as Percival here tells me you did."
+
+"Of course he did," put in Paul cheerfully. "He spoke up to Weevil like
+a brick. It's no use trying to hide your light under a bushel, Newall."
+
+"Yes, it's true enough I spoke up to Weevil"--the mocking laughter had
+died out of Newall's eyes, and there was now a cruel, vindictive light
+in them, just as there had been when Paul had spoken to him the day
+before--"and it's true enough I wanted to get you out of that hole in
+the roof. But it wasn't to shake hands with you. Not at all. I got you
+out of that den so that I might meet you squarely face to face."
+
+Stanley began to understand. It was not from any kindly motive Newall
+had spoken up for him that morning. The bitterness of his words now told
+him that, and the vindictiveness in his eyes spoke even plainer than
+speech. Paul had been deceived, and he had been deceived. Why had he
+demeaned himself by asking a fellow like Newall to shake hands with him?
+He ought to have known better from past experience.
+
+"You understand?" went on Newall in the same bitter tone. "Oh, yes, I
+see you do. You struck me a blow. The marks of it are still here, you
+see"--pointing to his lip, which was discoloured and cut. "I'm glad of
+it. It kept me awake last night, thinking of you. And when I looked at
+myself in the glass this morning, I thought of you again. It's nice to
+have a memento of your friends, don't you think so?"
+
+Stanley did not answer. What answer was possible to these mocking jibes?
+Paul was silent, too. All power of speech seemed taken from him.
+
+"Well, I mean having that blow back--the cowardly blow you gave me over
+Percival's shoulder. I could give it to you now"--his fist was clenched
+as though he would have dearly liked to make good his words--"but that
+would only mean that one or the other would be sent to the den from
+which I've just rescued you. That would be idiotic and make matters
+worse."
+
+"You mean to say that you don't wish to end the quarrel between us. You
+wish to fight it out to the bitter end?" demanded Stanley, at last
+finding voice.
+
+"You've got it!" came the slow, firm answer--"to the bitter end!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+FOR THE HONOUR OF THE FORM
+
+
+Paul was grieved at the turn things had taken. Just at the moment when
+he thought the quarrel ended it had burst out again in a deadlier form.
+Stanley was very pale. His hands were clenched, as were the hands of
+Newall, and the passion that distorted the one face was reflected in a
+lesser degree in the other. Hate never was, and never will be, a
+beautifier of the face. Like some subtle acid, it makes ugly lines. You
+will never see those lines in a beautiful or noble face, boys and girls.
+So, if you want to keep from getting ugly, never hate.
+
+Stanley was not only angry at the jibes of Newall, but angry at being
+led into a false position.
+
+"I really had no wish to shake hands with you. I'm just as keen on
+fighting it out as you are," he began.
+
+"One minute," interrupted Paul, stepping between them. "Let me have a
+word."
+
+"You get out of it, and speak when you're spoken to!" cried Newall
+roughly. "It was through you coming between us that I got this
+beauty-spot yesterday"--pointing to his swollen lip. "Hadn't you poked
+your nose in where it wasn't wanted this wouldn't have happened, and I
+would have given a good account of myself."
+
+"Sorry, and yet, come to think of it, I'm rather glad," answered Paul
+calmly, and not receding an inch from the position he had taken up.
+
+"Glad! How do you mean?"
+
+"Why, if it was through me you got that blow, your quarrel's with me,
+and not Moncrief. What's the use of trying to pay back to him what you
+owe to me?"
+
+This was a novel way of looking at the dispute which had not occurred to
+Newall. As he was not ready with an answer, Paul went on:
+
+"Besides, it was you who got me to speak to Moncrief on--excuse me
+saying so--false pretences. I thought you wanted to end the quarrel, to
+shake hands with him, and have done with it. It wasn't shaking hands you
+wanted, it seems, but clenched fists. I brought him here on a fool's
+errand; so the quarrel's mine, not his."
+
+Stanley wished to step in again, but Paul gently yet firmly held his
+ground.
+
+"I don't understand quite what you're driving at," said Newall. "It's a
+bit of a riddle; but if you want a thrashing as well as your friend, I
+dare say you can be obliged, but he comes first. Let him speak for
+himself. You can speak for yourself after. Now, Moncrief, no more
+shirking."
+
+"It's my quarrel, I say," Paul answered in the same firm tone, and still
+keeping Stanley back. "Of course, you think different, and Moncrief here
+thinks different, so let's appeal to the Form."
+
+"What's that?" cried Newall.
+
+"Appeal to the Form. The fellows will see things clearer than we can."
+
+The suggestion took Newall's breath away.
+
+"You really mean it?"
+
+"I really mean it."
+
+Newall thought a moment. An appeal to the Form was altogether a new
+thing, but as he had not the slightest doubt as to which way they would
+decide, why should he not fall in with it?
+
+"Does Moncrief agree to that?" Stanley nodded.
+
+"Very well; let it be as you say, Percival--an appeal to the Form."
+
+Paul, gratified that the quarrel had received a momentary check, was
+turning away with Stanley, when Parfitt, who had scarcely spoken
+throughout the scene, touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"One minute. Just a little word with you."
+
+He used in effect the same words as Paul had used when he stood between
+Newall and Stanley.
+
+"Didn't you find it rather cold in the corridor last night--eh?" he
+asked, with a meaning smile.
+
+Before Paul could answer, Parfitt followed in the footsteps of Newall.
+
+Cold in the corridor last night? What did Parfitt mean? The instant Paul
+put to himself the question the answer came to him--Parfitt must have
+seen him leave the dormitory in the night. Was there anything else in
+his question? Yes, he felt sure there was something behind it.
+
+"What was it, Paul? What did he want with you?" asked Stanley, coming up
+to him.
+
+"He wanted to know whether I was in the corridor last night. I thought
+all the fellows were asleep, but he must have been awake, playing the
+spy."
+
+"What of it? You're not the first fellow who's been in the corridor
+after 'lights out' by long chalks."
+
+"It was not that--it was not being in the corridor, and Parfitt knowing
+it--troubles me. But there's something else--much worse--a beastly
+insinuation. Phew!"
+
+The air seemed to have suddenly grown oppressive to Paul. He was no
+longer the calm, cool, self-reliant fellow who had stood between Stanley
+and Newall.
+
+"Beastly insinuation! What?"
+
+"You do not know what has happened. While I was with you in Dormitory X
+some one entered the big hall, broke open Weevil's desk, took out the
+Black Book, and tore from it the last five pages. That wasn't all. The
+culprit, whoever he was, took away some rough notes and plans Weevil had
+made on the subject of the prize essay, 'The Invasion of Great Britain.'
+Well, do you see now what Parfitt means to insinuate? He means to
+insinuate that I am the culprit--that I was the one who broke open Mr.
+Weevil's desk, tore the leaves from the Black Book, and stole the
+master's notes."
+
+"No, no; it can't be!" exclaimed Stanley, aghast.
+
+"It can be, and is; I am sure of it. That is the reason why Parfitt
+called me aside in such a mysterious manner."
+
+"The mean cad! But supposing he does wish to insinuate such a dastardly
+thing, you've an easy answer. Are you forgetting what you said just
+now--you were with me last night in Dormitory X?"
+
+"I'm not forgetting, Stan. It's you. Supposing I confessed what actually
+happened--that I was with you, and did not go near the master's desk
+last night; and supposing you said exactly the same thing--what then?
+You forget what happened. Mr. Weevil looked in the dormitory, you
+remember; looked round the dormitory, you remember, and spoke to you. He
+saw nothing of me, because I was hiding. If I said that I was in
+Dormitory X last night, therefore, the master himself would accuse me of
+falsehood; and he would have the same answer for you if you backed me
+up."
+
+Stanley did not at once answer. He could now see clearly enough the
+false position in which his friend had been placed in coming to share
+with him in his punishment. But he could only see the chivalry of it. He
+did not see that the step, chivalrous though it might be, had been a
+wrong step, and was bringing in its train the consequences of
+wrong-doing.
+
+"Mr. Weevil questioned the school this morning before you returned,"
+Paul went on. "'Had any one left his dormitory during the night?' he
+asked. Perhaps I ought to have spoken then; but I let the chance go."
+
+"And Parfitt did not speak?"
+
+"No; but I can see plainly enough now that it wasn't out of any kindness
+to me. He kept quiet so that he should hold the secret over me like a
+whip. He gave me the first taste of the thong just now, and--and--it
+cuts into a fellow."
+
+Stanley could see the pain in Paul's face, as though he could feel the
+thong descending upon his shoulders at that moment. He, too, could feel
+something of the same pain. His head fell to his breast. He blamed
+himself for having been the cause of all this misery. But suddenly he
+looked up again, and his face brightened.
+
+"The game's ours!" he cried.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"You twitted me just now about forgetting things, but we've both
+forgotten something--Weevil and Zuker. You've forgotten what you saw in
+the master's room when you came to me last night."
+
+"Supposing I had; how does that help?"
+
+"Cannot you see?" went on Stanley, quite excited. "Let's put our heads
+together for a moment and work it out. Supposing you go to Weevil and
+tell him straight out that you weren't in your dorm last night, but with
+me. He contradicts you point-blank. 'You could not have been with
+Moncrief, because I looked in at his dormitory at midnight and saw that
+no one else was there.' Then you bring forward your next piece, and cry,
+'I think I can prove to you, sir, that I was in Dormitory X last night.'
+'Your proof, quick!' 'My proof is that as I was passing by your room I
+happened to glance in at the window, and saw you with another
+gentleman--ahem!--looking over some papers.' Check! You have the master
+on toast, Paul. The case for the defence will be clear. Do you follow
+me?"
+
+Paul did not answer. He saw that this was one solution of the problem;
+but he was not certain that it was the best.
+
+"Well, what are you thinking about, old chap? Your face is as long as a
+fiddle."
+
+"Your suggestion is a good one, Stan," answered Paul slowly, as though
+he were still following his thoughts; "but I don't think that I'll act
+upon it--just yet."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Let's work my reasons out as you worked yours--shall we? Reason number
+one: We have cause to be suspicious of Mr. Weevil, the master in charge
+of this school during the absence of the Head. Heaven grant that our
+suspicions may be wrong, but we have reason to suppose that he is in
+league with a traitor. Am I clear, Stan?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+"Reason number two: If I told Mr. Weevil what I saw through his window
+on my way to you I might clear myself, but it would at once put him on
+his guard, and we should never have another chance of proving whether
+our suspicions are true or false. Is that clear, too?"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"Well, thirdly and lastly: Don't you think it will be better to keep
+what we know up our sleeves for the present, in view of what may come
+after?"
+
+"You're right, Paul, as you always are!" exclaimed Stanley
+enthusiastically.
+
+"No, old fellow, there is only One who is always right," answered Paul
+earnestly. "We're always patting ourselves on the back and fancying
+ourselves mighty clever; but we're not. We're asses--always slipping and
+tumbling about, and when not doing that, running down the wrong road and
+butting our stupid heads against posts or walls. Asses, all of us--some
+big, some little."
+
+"Where do you come in, Paul?" laughed Stanley.
+
+"Amongst the mediums," Paul laughed back; but as he turned towards the
+school his face grew grave again. He had tried to reason things out, but
+the way before him did not seem so clear as he could have wished. There
+were pitfalls before him, into one of which he might stumble at any
+moment. And as he thought there came to him the lines of a hymn he had
+often heard his mother sing:
+
+    "Lord, bring me to resign
+      My doubting heart to Thee;
+    And, whether cheerful or distressed,
+      Thine, Thine alone to be.
+    My only aim be this--
+      Thy purpose to fulfil,
+    In Thee rejoice with all my strength,
+      And do Thy Holy will."
+
+Entering the school, he sought out Hasluck, head of the Fifth. He was a
+quiet, studious boy, with glasses. He did not take a very prominent part
+in the sports, but none the less he was keen on the honour of his form,
+inside or outside the school.
+
+"I want you to call a meeting of the Form, Hasluck--to-night."
+
+"What about?"
+
+"A little matter between Newall, Moncrief, and me. It touches the honour
+of the Form."
+
+And Hasluck at once consented.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE FORUM
+
+
+"Meeting of the Fifth in the Forum."
+
+The whisper had travelled from form to form, and, as invariably
+happened, conjecture was busy as to what the meeting of the Fifth could
+be for.
+
+"It's a breach-of-promise case they've got on!" said Freddy Plunger
+confidentially to half a dozen members of the Third who had been
+discussing the event.
+
+"Breach of promise?" repeated Baldry. "None of your gammon, Freddy!"
+
+"Fact! Haven't you heard? One of the freshers has been making desperate
+love to the matron--giving her his portrait, with his love, and that
+sort of thing. You wouldn't wonder at it from an old stager like you,
+Baldry, or Sedgeley; but from a fresher--well, it's awful, isn't it?
+What's the school coming to--that's what I should like to know?"
+
+Harry Moncrief blushed to the roots of his hair as the boys standing
+round Plunger turned to him and tittered.
+
+"What are the damages?"
+
+"A broken topper, a pair of plaids, a white waistcoat, and spats over
+patents."
+
+More titters, and more glances in the direction of Harry. He knew well
+enough that this reference on Plunger's part was meant for him to the
+costume with which he had adorned himself on his coming to Garside.
+
+"Plunger's been crowing it over me ever since I came here. I shall have
+to take it out of him," he thought.
+
+The outburst of laughter that followed did not mend matters. So he
+hastened away, in no pleasant mood, without any regard to whither he
+was going. He came to a stop when he reached the cricketing-shed, in the
+playing-fields adjoining the school. It was this shed which was known as
+"The Forum." Here it was that the meeting of the Fifth was to be held.
+
+Harry stopped and regarded it with some interest.
+
+"Stan will be at the meeting, I suppose, and Paul Percival. Wouldn't I
+like to know what it's all about!"
+
+He had an uncomfortable feeling that things weren't going quite smoothly
+with his cousin and Paul Percival. Bit by bit the glamour with which he
+had viewed the school was wearing off. He no longer regarded it through
+rose-coloured glasses. Plunger had lorded it over him and made fun of
+him; his cousin and Paul, whom he had expected to find on the same
+footing as himself, might have been in a different world, so great was
+the difference between the upper and lower forms.
+
+The dormitory, to which he had looked forward with still greater
+pleasure, had proved a delusion and a snare. Often, in the bitterness of
+his experience in the dormitory, had he wished himself back in his warm
+and comfortable bed at home. He did not see--did not understand that the
+trials upon which he was entering were just those which were moulding
+him for the future. They were to test and try him, as they had tested
+and tried many others before him.
+
+Some of you who read this may be going through the same experience as
+Harry Moncrief. Remember, rough as the experience may be, it goes to
+make the man in you, and it depends upon you whether you come from these
+trials dross or pure gold.
+
+By the side of the shed where Harry was standing there was a window,
+thick with dust. Harry tried to look through the window, but, failing in
+this, his forefinger went idly to work on the dust. Bit by bit he traced
+out a face and head, almost without knowing it, for he had been thinking
+of the meeting that was to take place in the shed rather than of his
+sketch.
+
+"My, it isn't at all bad!" he cried, standing back a pace and admiring
+his handiwork when he had finished it. "If I'd really tried, I couldn't
+have done it so well. Perhaps the nose doesn't stick up enough, but it's
+got the right cut about it."
+
+Harry was about to rub out the sketch, when he paused, as though
+reluctant to rub out such a masterpiece.
+
+"'Pon my word, it's rather good! I wonder if anybody would know who it's
+meant for? I don't suppose anybody will. I've a jolly good mind to leave
+it!"
+
+He pronounced the last words with emphasis, turned on his heels, and
+walked away.
+
+Now it so happened that after Plunger and his companions had enjoyed
+their laugh at the expense of Harry, their attention went back again to
+the one absorbing topic of conversation--the meeting of the Fifth.
+
+"Shouldn't I like to be there!" said Plunger, his curiosity growing as
+the time for the meeting advanced. "I would like to know what's in the
+wind! Is it about the Black Book, I wonder?"
+
+"What's that to do with the Fifth any more than the rest of us?"
+remarked Sedgeley.
+
+"Oh, the Fifth always put a lot of side on, and like to cock it over
+us!" retorted Plunger.
+
+"You'll be just the same, Freddy, when you're sent up--if ever you are
+sent up," remarked Baldry. "Sour grapes!"
+
+"Shut up, Baldhead!" retorted Plunger hotly. "I never want to get
+amongst the Fifth bounders. It's that keeps me back. I could have got up
+in the Fourth at last exam., only I said to myself: 'No; it takes me one
+form nearer the Fifth bounders.'" He paused for a moment, then added:
+"All the same, I would like to know what they're going to gas about in
+the Forum. P'r'aps it's about us--p'r'aps they mean sitting on us a lot
+more than they do now."
+
+"P'r'aps!" repeated Sedgeley and Baldry reflectively.
+
+"I--I've a good mind to try. Why should the Fifth have it all to
+themselves? If--if I could only steal a march on them!"
+
+"If you only could, Freddy!" remarked Sedgeley encouragingly.
+
+For the next few minutes there was some whispering together, and the end
+of it was that Plunger and his companions strolled in the same direction
+as that Harry Moncrief had strolled in a quarter of an hour or so
+before.
+
+On arriving at the shed, they reconnoitred around it, uncertain as to
+whether or not anybody was within.
+
+Sedgeley happened by chance to look through--or tried to look
+through--the window on which Harry had left a specimen of his handiwork.
+
+His attention was at once arrested. He regarded the face seriously for a
+moment; then he broke into a shout of laughter.
+
+"What are you playing the silly goat for?" demanded Plunger wrathfully
+from somewhere in the rear of the shed.
+
+"Come here, Baldry, Bember, Viner!" exclaimed Sedgeley, vainly
+endeavouring to stifle his laughter.
+
+The three came hurrying up, followed by Plunger, in a violent state of
+agitation.
+
+"You'll spoil all, you braying ass, you laughing hyena, you giddy----"
+
+Then he paused, as Baldry, Bember, and Viner, after a glance at the
+pane, burst into laughter also. "What is it, you laughing
+lunatics--what----"
+
+Plunger said no more. His jaw dropped, as, following their gaze, he
+gazed in turn on the window-pane.
+
+"Jolly good likeness, isn't it, Baldry?" Sedgeley at length managed to
+remark.
+
+"My!" cried Baldry, with his hand on his side, as though he'd got a
+stitch in it. "Hold me up!"
+
+"I--I don't see what there's to laugh at," Plunger at length remarked,
+with a face as red as a turkey-cock's.
+
+"What, don't you see it, Freddy?"
+
+"See what?"
+
+"The likeness--oh, my side! Don't you know that nose--that hair. I
+should know 'em anywhere."
+
+Now, Plunger had a very characteristic nose--it was a combative nose,
+and a decided pug. So was the nose on the window-pane. Plunger's hair,
+too, was peculiar to Plunger. It was wiry, stubborn hair, with a tuft in
+front which resembled the comb of a turkey-cock. The same peculiarity
+was seen in the head on the window. And Plunger's eyebrows had a way of
+mounting to his head, as though they were anxious to get on terms of
+friendship with the tuft above. The same eccentricity was noticeable in
+the eyebrows on the window-pane.
+
+"No. I don't know 'em--not a bit. Who do you say they're meant for?"
+came in jerks from Plunger.
+
+"Who--who? Oh, dear, oh, dear! Why, they're meant for you, Freddy! It's
+awfully funny, isn't it? I didn't know that your face was so comical!"
+
+Plunger shrugged his shoulders, and affected indifference. He wasn't a
+bit like that caricature. It was only Sedgeley pretended to see the
+likeness, and made the other fellows see it with his eyes. At the same
+time he put out his hand to rub out the sketch. Sedgeley stopped him.
+
+"If it isn't meant for you, Freddy, we may as well see who it is meant
+for."
+
+"Just as you like," answered Plunger, in his most indifferent tone.
+
+Having assured themselves that there was no one inside, three of the
+conspirators--Sedgeley, Baldry, and Plunger--entered the shed. A quarter
+of an hour elapsed, then the door opened; but, instead of the three
+figures that entered, only two came out--Sedgeley and Baldry. All was
+silent within. Plunger had disappeared as completely as though he had
+dropped through the earth.
+
+"All serene?" queried Bember, as the two made their appearance.
+
+"All serene!" came the answer.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At seven o'clock the Fifth Form began to put in an appearance at the
+shed. Arbery and Leveson were two of the first. They lit a candle, and
+stuck it in a tin candle-stick. Then they rolled out one of the boxes
+that were piled up at the back, placed it lengthwise, so as to form a
+rostrum, and covered it with a baize cloth. On the top of this they
+placed a wooden mallet, used for knocking in the stumps in the
+cricketing season.
+
+"Sounds all right," said Leveson, giving the mallet a flourish over his
+head, and bringing it down sharply on top of the box. "Order--order for
+the chair!"
+
+Down it came a second time.
+
+"Friends, Romans, and Countrymen----"
+
+"Drop the cackle, Levy," shouted Arbery, "and give me a hand."
+
+He was pulling out some of the boxes, and Leveson lent him a hand to
+arrange them as seats. It so happened that in one of the most
+dilapidated of these boxes, which had rested for weeks in the darkest
+corner of the shed, Frederick Plunger, Esq. was reposing. It had been
+selected as the most suitable hiding-place by the conspirators. It was
+large and commodious, and there were so many cracks and crannies in the
+worm-eaten, dilapidated lid that there was ample breathing space within.
+
+In this safe hiding-place Plunger had flattered himself that he would be
+able to know all that passed at the meeting of the Fifth. He had not
+calculated on the box being shifted from its dusty, cob-webbed corner.
+But more by chance than design Arbery laid profane hands on it, and
+dragging it out with the rest, turned it over and over, something after
+the style of a porter with the luggage at a railway terminus in the busy
+season.
+
+Bumpety--bumpety! It seemed to Plunger, so far as he had any sensation
+at all, that he was performing the part of a human catherine-wheel.
+
+"My!" he gasped. "What are the asses doing with the box? I shall be most
+frightfully sick if they don't stop it."
+
+Bumpety--bumpety--bumpety!
+
+"Oh, oh! What an idiot I was to get inside this coffin; it'll be the
+death of me!"
+
+Arbery and Leveson gave another jerk to the box even as Plunger was
+groaning within.
+
+"It--it--it's worse than being on the Great Wheel, or on a pleasure boat
+when there's a sea on. Oh, my--oh dear! When are the silly fellows going
+to stop it?" he moaned.
+
+At last they did stop it, almost beneath the identical window on which
+Moncrief minor had traced Plunger's noble features.
+
+"That's about the ticket, isn't it, Arbery? My, it's hot work! Didn't
+think that old box was so heavy. You'd fancy it was stuffed with lead
+instead of broken bats and rubbish of that sort. Phew!"
+
+Leveson wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.
+
+"Yes; that's the thing. It'll give an extra seat or two, if they're
+wanted."
+
+"My word! They're going to sit on me," groaned Plunger. His groans were
+cut short by a loud outburst of laughter from Arbery.
+
+"What's the lunatic laughing at now?" thought Plunger.
+
+"Hold me up, Levy!" Arbery in rising from the box had caught sight of
+the caricature of Plunger on the window, and burst into a fit of
+laughter. "Do you see it--do you see who it's meant for?"
+
+Leveson, for answer, likewise broke into a peal of laughter.
+
+"The other lunatic's going it now," Plunger muttered to himself. "Seems
+to me I've hopped into an asylum instead of a box. There's a screw loose
+in one of 'em. My! Aren't they going it. Wish I could get a peep out of
+this beastly timber yard. I'd like to see what they're grinning at. Hark
+at 'em. They're off again."
+
+At last Leveson stopped.
+
+"See it," he cried. "Who could help it? Jolly good, isn't it? Like the
+young bounder to a T--the same nose, the same coarse wiry thatch, the
+same eyebrows running away from the forehead into the middle of next
+week."
+
+The perspiration began to ooze from Plunger. He had an uneasy feeling as
+to whom they were referring.
+
+"Young bounder!" he repeated. "Coarse, wiry thatch, eyebrows running
+away from the forehead. Leveson thinks that awfully smart, I s'pose?
+Still it--it--must be a bit like."
+
+Plunger had the additional pleasure of hearing more laughter at his
+expense as other scholars of the Fifth entered, and added their
+criticisms to Leveson's. Plunger's ears tingled as they had never
+tingled before, for never before had he heard himself so freely
+criticised. In addition to the not very flattering remarks "the bounders
+of the Fifth" had to pass on his features, Plunger had to listen to
+terse descriptions of himself as "that ass, Plunger," "a mixed pickle,"
+"a queer egg," "conceited young biped," and so on.
+
+Plunger made remarks of his own as these pleasant criticisms reached his
+ears. They were scarcely less vigorous than those descriptive of
+himself, and were fairly divided between "those bounders of the Fifth"
+and "the fellow who had scratched things" on the window. But
+unfortunately Plunger's eloquence was wasted, as neither the "bounders
+of the Fifth" nor "the fellow who scratched things on the window" had
+the advantage of hearing it. His attention was soon turned from himself,
+however, to the proceedings that were taking place in the shed.
+
+There were about twenty in the Fifth. Nineteen put in an appearance.
+Hasluck, as head of the Form, took up his place at the rostrum, while
+most of the others sat on the boxes which had been arranged for their
+convenience by Arbery and Leveson, who were known as M.C.'s--masters of
+ceremonies--of the Form.
+
+"All here?" asked Hasluck, after bringing down his mallet on the box
+before him.
+
+"All--except Moncrief," answered Leveson.
+
+The absence of Moncrief had been noticed with some surprise by the Form,
+by none more than Newall.
+
+"Is he coming, does any one know? If so, we'll wait a little longer."
+
+"No; he isn't coming," answered Paul. "He wanted to; but I persuaded him
+to stop away."
+
+"You persuaded him to stop away," cried Newall. "Why, it's because of
+him we've come here."
+
+"Excuse me," answered Paul politely. "It's because of me. At any rate,
+it's for the Form to decide."
+
+"Percival called the Form together. It's for Percival to explain," said
+Hasluck.
+
+"I'll explain as well as I can," said Paul, taking a step forward, and
+glancing round at the faces bent eagerly forward to hear him. "There was
+a slight shindy, as you all know, on the first day of term, between
+Newall and Stanley Moncrief."
+
+"Shindy!" interrupted Newall with a scornful sniff. "Is that all you
+call it?"
+
+"Call it by what name you please; I don't mind," proceeded Paul calmly.
+"Newall baited Moncrief's cousin unmercifully, and Moncrief did what any
+other fellow in the Form worth his salt would have done--interfered. I
+tried to get between him and Newall to stop the quarrel. You know what
+happened--Newall was struck."
+
+"Yes, Newall was struck," repeated Newall grimly.
+
+"Yes; but after all Moncrief had a good deal the worst of it. He passed
+the night in Dormitory X--ten times worse punishment than anything
+Newall got; so he more than wiped out the blow he gave in anger to
+Newall."
+
+"Oh, stop this humbug," interrupted Newall angrily. "You can see what
+Percival's up to. He's trying to white-wash Moncrief, who's too big a
+funk to come here to defend himself."
+
+There were murmurs of assent from some of those present, who resented
+Moncrief's absence, and who were not favourably inclined to a tame
+ending of the quarrel. The more thoughtful section remained silent.
+
+"It would have been better, I think, for Moncrief to have been here,"
+said Hasluck. And this view was received with applause.
+
+"If there's any blame for that," said Paul quickly, "blame me. As I've
+said, I persuaded him to stay away. With Moncrief here and Newall here,
+it would have been like two barrels of gunpowder. Just a spark,
+and--phwitt! bang--where should we all have been? There'd have been
+nothing left of us."
+
+This time Paul carried his audience with him. They were well aware that
+Moncrief was hasty in temper, and that Newall was no less fiery. So they
+smiled at Paul's description of what might probably have happened if the
+two had been present.
+
+"Besides, as I've already pointed out to Newall," continued Paul, "if
+there's a quarrel at all, it lies between me and him."
+
+"Stuff--gammon--more humbug!" interrupted Newall angrily.
+
+"That's what you think," said Paul, confronting him steadily for a
+moment. "After all, you only count as one. That's why I've called the
+Form, who count a good deal more, so that they could give their opinion.
+Whatever their opinion is, I'll stand to it."
+
+"You will!" cried Newall. "That's all I want. I know well enough they
+won't let Moncrief wriggle out of it."
+
+"How do you make out that the quarrel has shifted from Moncrief to you,
+Percival?" demanded Hasluck. "I can't quite see it."
+
+More murmurs of assent.
+
+"I think you will when I've finished," said Paul confidently. "Newall
+doesn't see it, naturally, but I think you will. This is how things
+stand. Newall made me believe that he was sorry for the quarrel that had
+taken place between him and Moncrief. On that I tried to do the right
+thing. I got Moncrief to go up to him and offer him his hand. I was
+never more disgusted in my life. Newall pretended not to see it, and
+said insulting things, which I need not repeat. What I say is, that when
+he refused to take Moncrief's hand, he insulted me more than he insulted
+Moncrief; for it was I who brought Moncrief to him, and it was through
+me Moncrief offered him his hand. That is the first point I wish the
+Form to decide."
+
+Paul spoke so earnestly that he carried the Form with him. It appealed
+to their sense of chivalry. Percival had tried to make peace between
+Newall and Moncrief. Failing that, he had turned the quarrel from his
+friend's shoulders to his own.
+
+First one, then the other, supported Paul, and though there was a small
+minority against him, there was no question as to the majority.
+
+"We think Percival right," said Hasluck--an announcement which was
+received with cheers.
+
+"That only means that the quarrel is between me and Percival," said
+Newall grimly. "I've no objection. I'm not going to kick against the
+decision of the Form." Then, turning to Paul: "You've got to pay me back
+the blow I had from Moncrief. P'raps the Form 'll decide when it's to
+be."
+
+"You mean fighting?"
+
+"What else should I mean?"
+
+"I don't. We don't want to waste our energies that way when there's a
+much better way and better work to do."
+
+"Trying to crawl out of it again," came in a sneering aside from
+Parfitt. "Was there ever such a wriggler?"
+
+"Let's hear the better way," said Hasluck; and there were many others in
+the Form, in spite of the sneering remark of Parfitt, who were equally
+anxious to hear what "the better way" could be.
+
+"There's a shadow resting upon the school--resting upon every one of
+us," said Paul solemnly.
+
+"What shadow are you talking about?" asked Hasluck.
+
+"The leaves from the Black Book--the stolen papers from Mr. Weevil's
+desk," said Paul. "Until the thief is found out, suspicion rests upon
+every boy in the Form--upon every boy in the school. What I suggest is,
+that we leave off fighting till we've found out who the thief is. I
+don't want to preach, but I think that will be a great deal more to our
+honour and the honour of our school."
+
+Paul paused. "If Parfitt has anything to accuse me of, now will be his
+time," he thought.
+
+He had not to wait long. Parfitt did speak, but scarcely in the way he
+had anticipated.
+
+"Honour of the school!" he cried. "Anybody would think that Percival's
+the only one who cares for it. Let him take care of his own honour
+first, and the honour of the school will take care of itself."
+
+Parfitt's pointed remark was loudly applauded. Paul saw that he was
+likely to be defeated unless he could make a stronger appeal to the
+sympathies of the Form.
+
+"I don't know that my honour's questioned," he answered promptly. "Who
+questions it?"
+
+"I do," retorted Parfitt.
+
+"And I," added Newall.
+
+Before Paul could answer, there was a knock on the door of the shed. It
+so startled Devey--a heavy, thick-set boy--that he over-balanced himself,
+and came with a crash on the box in which Plunger was hidden. Plunger
+had been so interested in the proceedings of the Fifth that he had
+lifted the lid in the slightest possible degree so that he might the
+better hear what was going on. When Devey came crashing on the box,
+Plunger thought for the moment that his head had gone from his
+shoulders. And then as Devey, not quite recovered from his fall,
+continued to sit upon the lid, he thought he would be suffocated.
+
+Meanwhile Leveson went to the door, and demanded: "Who's there?"
+
+"A Beetle," came the answer.
+
+"A Beetle! What does he want?"
+
+"He's got a challenge for the Fifth."
+
+"A challenge for the Fifth! Oh, very kind of him!" Then, turning to
+Hasluck, "Shall I let him in?"
+
+"Rather. Let's hear what the sport is."
+
+Thereupon Leveson opened the door. Three boys were standing without--two
+of them belonging to the school, and the third, who stood between them,
+one of the much-despised Beetles--in other words, a pupil of the rival
+school at St. Bede's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A CHALLENGE FROM ST. BEDE'S
+
+
+The two boys who entered with the "Beetle" were Baldry and Sedgefield,
+the companions of Plunger. The Beetle was a sturdy, but rather
+heavy-featured, boy of fourteen. He wore the St. Bede's cap--dark cloth
+with a white shield in front, on which were worked in old English
+letters, "St. B.," while beneath these were three Roman capitals--"S. S.
+V.," the initials of the school motto, "Suis stet viribus"--"He stands
+on his merit."
+
+"Why, it's Mellor," came the cry, so soon as the face of the boy from
+St. Bede's could be clearly seen.
+
+Yes, it was Mellor, till recently a pupil at Garside, and formerly an
+occupant of the dormitory in which Harry Moncrief, Baldry and the others
+slept. He had left Garside last term, and, much to the disgust of his
+former associates, had entered as a pupil of St. Bede's. The fact was
+that it was not so much Mellor's work as his father's. Mellor was good
+at sport, but not quite as keen on learning, so that he had remained for
+two years in the same form along with boys who were much younger than
+himself. Mellor, of course, put it down to the school, and not to any
+lack of diligence on his part. His father fell in with the view of his
+son, believing him to be a "clever boy--unmistakably clever"--if the
+cleverness were only brought out. In the hope that this cleverness would
+be brought out, he had been taken from Garside and turned over to St.
+Bede's.
+
+Now the conversion of a "Gargoyle" into a "Beetle" was not an easy
+process. He had to fit himself into new surroundings, new conditions,
+new methods, with new companions. And while these new companions had
+given him a cool reception, his old companions, thinking him fair game
+for ridicule and sport now that he had "gone over to the enemy," had
+determined on giving him a warm reception at the first opportunity.
+
+It so happened that on the third day of Mellor's entrance at St. Bede's
+he chanced to meet Parfitt and a couple of companions of his in the
+Fifth. They had promptly seized on Mellor, and after congratulating him
+with mock gravity on rising to the "dignity of a Beetle," had ended by
+making him crawl on all fours "as a Beetle ought," and, using his back
+as a desk, had finally written this note on a slip of paper--"Beetle,
+otherwise cockroach--nocturnal insect, concealing itself in holes during
+the day, and crawling off at the approach of light."
+
+This flattering description they had pinned to Mellor's back, with an
+intimation that he was to crawl back to his brother Beetles as quickly
+as possible or he would be "squashed before he could get to his hole
+again." Mellor, smarting under these indignities, had hastened back to
+St. Bede's and placed the note in the hands of one of the boys belonging
+to the corresponding form to that of his tormentors.
+
+The Fifth had duly considered it, and a day later had despatched an
+answer with Mellor. And this was the answer: "Gargoyle, otherwise
+spout--receiving things that come from gutters. Meant to frighten people
+by making ugly faces. Good for little else. If the Fifth Form has one
+Gargoyle of any pluck amongst them, he will find a Fifth Form Beetle
+ready to meet him at the sand-pit, Cranstead Common, to-morrow
+afternoon, three sharp."
+
+"It's a challenge," said Hasluck.
+
+"Read it out," came in a chorus.
+
+And Hasluck read it out.
+
+"Don't you think you've got a lot of cheek to bring a note like that,
+Mellor," remarked Arbery when Hasluck had finished.
+
+"Not half as much as Parfitt had in writing the one he sent by me,"
+retorted Mellor indignantly.
+
+"What does it feel like, being a Beetle?" asked Leveson politely.
+"Kitchen stuff's fattening, isn't it?"
+
+"After going about on all fours, don't you find it a bit tricky to stand
+on your hind legs again?" remarked Arbery. "Want a balancing-pole, don't
+you?"
+
+Before Mellor could reply, a mysterious gurgling sound came from the
+direction in which Devey was standing.
+
+"Hallo, Devey, what's wrong?" demanded Hasluck, as every eye turned in
+his direction.
+
+"Wrong? Nothing wrong! What do you mean?" retorted Devey, quite blushing
+at thus suddenly becoming the object of general attention.
+
+"Thought you were trying to laugh. Never heard such a screech. Like a
+laughing hyena with the toothache. Don't do it again, there's a good
+chap. It'll get on our nerves."
+
+"I haven't done anything, I tell you," exclaimed the indignant Devey. "I
+didn't laugh."
+
+"It came from your corner. It must have been some of those youngsters of
+the Third eavesdropping outside. Chase 'em away a bit, Arbery."
+
+Arbery, accompanied by Leveson, darted out with the object of giving the
+"youngsters of the Third" a bad time, but after searching around the
+shed, could find no sign of their presence.
+
+"They must have scooted before we could get to them," reported Arbery on
+his return to the shed. "I can guess pretty well who it was--Plunger and
+his set."
+
+Again that sound from Devey's corner which Hasluck had described as "a
+laughing hyena with the toothache"; and again all eyes went to Devey.
+
+"Well, what the dickens are you staring at?" Devey indignantly demanded,
+when he thought that he had borne this scrutiny with enough patience.
+
+"Beetles are bad enough, Devey, without paroquets," remarked Hasluck
+reproachfully. "If you feel bad, you'd better go out. We'll excuse you."
+
+"It's not me, I tell you. I didn't laugh. It came from outside, or the
+roof, or--or somewhere," protested Devey.
+
+Arbery and Leveson darted out again, with the same result as before. But
+they saw shadows in the distance which they believed to be some of their
+tormentors, and it was decided that they should take up a position
+close to the door, and at once dart out if the sound were repeated.
+
+Devey was, of course, perfectly truthful when he had denied making the
+curious sound which had so startled his companions. Nor had it come from
+the "youngsters of the Third" outside. It came, as the reader has
+guessed, from the box in which Mr. Freddy Plunger was reposing. At
+first, when the heavy weight of Devey had rested on the box, he thought
+that he would have been suffocated. But when, in the excitement caused
+by the unexpected entrance of Mellor with his challenge from St. Bede's,
+Devey had risen with the other fellows, and remained standing, Plunger
+breathed more freely, and began to feel quite light-hearted again.
+
+He felt just as excited as any of those outside at what was happening
+and entered just as thoroughly into the scene, so that when Leveson and
+Arbery began to question Mellor about the peculiarities of "a Beetle,"
+he felt that he must laugh or choke. The result was the curious noise
+which had been put down first to Devey, then to the boys outside. No one
+guessed for a moment that it came from the box before which Devey was
+standing. When the stir caused by this incident had subsided, attention
+was once more turned to Mellor.
+
+"Well, Mellor, you haven't answered our questions yet," said Parfitt,
+taking up the fire. "What does it feel like to be a Beetle?"
+
+Mellor flamed up the instant Parfitt spoke. It was Parfitt who had set
+upon him and badgered him, and written the note which had stirred up so
+much feeling at St. Bede's against Garside.
+
+"You're a cad and a coward!" he cried hotly. "I don't want to answer you
+or speak to you either."
+
+Parfitt, stung by the boy's words, moved towards him to clutch him by
+the ear. But Paul was quicker, and stood between them.
+
+"Hands off, Parfitt! Mellor's here as a messenger from the Fifth of St.
+Bede's to us, the Fifth of Garside. Don't drag us in the mud! Let's be
+fair! They've sent us a challenge. Let's be polite enough to answer
+it."
+
+"Interfering again," sneered Parfitt. "Always poking your nose where it
+isn't wanted!"
+
+"Don't get waxy, Parfitt," remonstrated Hasluck. "Percival's quite
+right. It isn't nice perhaps to know that one of our fellows has gone
+over to the Beetles, but there it is. It can't be helped. What's done
+can't very well be undone. Let's be fair, and let's be polite. There,
+I'm with Percival, and so, I think, are the rest of you." ("Hear, hear,
+hear," from the rest, with the exception of Parfitt, who felt rather
+small.) "Shall we send an answer?"
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+"I knew well enough you'd say 'Yes.' Well, the next point is, what's the
+answer to be?"
+
+"I think there can be only one answer," exclaimed Newall, speaking for
+the first time. "The Fifth Form Gargoyle is quite ready to meet the
+Fifth Form Beetle at the sand-pit, Cranstead Common, to-morrow
+afternoon, three sharp."
+
+At once a cheer broke out in favour of Newall's suggestion.
+
+"As Parfitt wrote the elegant little note which has brought this storm
+upon us, he'd better write the answer," said Hasluck.
+
+This suggestion also met with general approval. Parfitt hesitated, but
+at length wrote the note as dictated by Newall. Hasluck read it out.
+
+"Will it do?" he questioned when he had finished.
+
+"Agreed, agreed!" was the answering shout. Paul alone remained silent.
+His face was unusually grave. He had come there on a peaceful mission,
+and the peaceful mission had ended in a declaration of war.
+
+"There you are, Mellor; take that and give it to your brother Beetles,
+with the compliments and best wishes of the Fifth," he said, as he
+folded up the note and handed it to Mellor. "Now cut!"
+
+"Cut isn't the word," said Arbery, as he opened the door. "Crawl!"
+
+Mellor darted out of the shed with the note, without waiting for any
+further references to the new title conferred upon him.
+
+"Won't you eat your words in the sand-pit to-morrow!" he cried as a
+parting shot.
+
+"The cheeky beggar got the last word in anyhow," quoth Arbery as he
+closed the door.
+
+Dead silence followed for a minute or two, then it was broken by
+Hasluck.
+
+"You called us here, Percival," he said, turning to Paul, "to talk over
+the triangular squabble between you and Moncrief and Newall. You don't
+mind us putting that off for a bit? This is the thing we've got to
+settle, this cheeky challenge from the Beetles."
+
+Paul, seeing there was no help for it, nodded assent.
+
+"And you, Newall?"
+
+Newall nodded in turn.
+
+"Good! Well, then, having decided to take up the challenge from St.
+Bede's, the next thing to settle is, who's to be our champion at the
+sand-pit to-morrow?"
+
+No one seemed in a great hurry to answer that question, but at length
+Newall, a curious smile hovering about his lips, said:
+
+"We're all of us anxious for the job, that's the reason we're so silent.
+But I'd like to propose one as our champion who'd do us
+credit--Percival."
+
+Had a thunderbolt fallen in the shed, the boys of the Fifth could not
+have been more startled than when they heard Paul's name. Was Newall in
+earnest, or was he poking fun? It was hard to tell, for the curious
+smile that had hovered about his lips was there no longer. It had quite
+vanished, and his face was the gravest amongst them.
+
+"Percival!" he repeated with emphasis. "He's done me a lot of honour.
+He's done me the honour of calling you fellows together to settle a
+quarrel between Moncrief and me. He's done me honour in the nice things
+he has said of me. Well, I'd like to do him a little in turn. There
+can't be a greater honour than representing the Fifth as champion of the
+Form. It's one that I'd jump at myself, but after what has taken place,
+after all that Percival has said about the honour of the Form, I can
+only take a back seat. He comes first. So I again say, let Percival be
+our champion."
+
+Notwithstanding that Paul had rarely been seen in a school fight, it was
+well known amongst his companions that he was a fine athlete and
+perfectly able to take care of himself, so with ready shouts they hailed
+the suggestion.
+
+"Percival, Percival, Percival!" resounded on all sides.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE CHAMPION OF HIS FORM
+
+
+Paul, as may be imagined, was as much startled by Newall's proposal that
+he should be the champion of the Form as at the readiness with which it
+was taken up by his class-mates.
+
+"Well, Percival"--the voice of Hasluck broke the silence which had
+followed as they waited eagerly Paul's answer--"you've heard what Newall
+has said, and what the Form thinks of it. What's your answer?"
+
+A keen struggle went on in Paul's mind as the question came to him. He
+had come there to settle a dispute--to ward off a meeting between
+Moncrief and Newall. And now, by an adroit move on the latter's part, he
+had been forced to accept or decline a challenge from outside. If he
+refused, he would have to eat his own words about the honour of the
+school; he would be regarded as a contemptible coward; and the quarrel
+between Newall and Moncrief would still remain unsettled. If he
+accepted, he would be held in honour by his Form, and, in fighting its
+battle, he might be able to settle the quarrel between Moncrief and
+Newall. So, coming to a swift decision, he turned to the latter:
+
+"If I fight for the Form, will that settle the quarrel between you and
+Moncrief? Will you shake hands with him?"
+
+"Yes," came the prompt answer.
+
+"Very well; then I'll do my best to keep up the honour of the Form at
+the sand-pit to-morrow."
+
+"Bravo--bravo; hip, hip, hurrah!" cried Devey, jumping on the box in
+which Plunger was concealed, and waving his cap wildly.
+
+The cheers were taken up by most of the Form, but Parfitt, who took no
+part in the cheering, remarked, loud enough for all to hear:
+
+"Seems to me we'd better save our shouting till to-morrow afternoon."
+
+"For once I agree with Parfitt," answered Paul calmly. "Keep your
+shouting till to-morrow afternoon."
+
+"And even then it may all be on the other side," added Parfitt, with a
+sneer.
+
+"Trust Parfitt for throwing cold water on anything," said Devey, jumping
+down from the box. "He must have been born in a refrigerator."
+
+He gave the box an indignant kick. Plunger shivered. He was glad that
+Devey's foot came on the box instead of on him.
+
+The meeting was over, and the boys went in twos and threes from the shed
+discussing the forthcoming battle in the sand-pit. Plunger, greatly
+excited at all he had heard, was waiting eagerly the moment he could
+emerge from his hiding-place, when he heard Arbery shout:
+
+"Don't all run off without lending a hand. We shall have to get the
+boxes back, and the shed ship-shape. Devey and I can't do all the work."
+
+Plunger groaned. He knew what Arbery's appeal meant. One by one the
+boxes were shifted back to their places; then it came to the turn of the
+box in which Plunger was concealed, and once again he was bumped about
+from side to side till he got painfully mixed ideas as to where he began
+and where he ended--as to which was his head and which were his feet,
+and whether he would ever be able to stand straight again.
+
+At last the box was rolled back to the corner in which it had previously
+reposed, and Arbery and his assistants followed in the footsteps of
+their companions. When Plunger could gather together his scattered
+senses, he raised the lid of the box and scrambled out.
+
+"My!" he groaned, as he leaned against the side of the shed and felt his
+limbs. "Seems to me I'm all bruises. It's a wonder I've come out alive.
+I'd just like to put the fellow who's been putting my frontispiece on
+that pane inside the box I've come from for half an hour!"
+
+Gradually, however, the worried look on Plunger's face gave place to one
+of satisfaction as he remembered that he was the only one outside the
+Fifth who knew what had taken place at the meeting, and that he alone
+knew what was to take place on the morrow. He had no chance of relating
+to his companions the secret which was burning within him till he
+reached the dormitory that night.
+
+"Well," asked Baldry breathlessly, as soon as lights were out, "how did
+you get on, Freddy? What happened?"
+
+"You'd never guess. There's to be a fight to-morrow between one of the
+Fifth fellows and a Beetle."
+
+Every ear in the dormitory pricked up at this unexpected piece of
+information.
+
+"Who's our fellow?" demanded Sedgefield, breaking the silence which
+followed this announcement.
+
+"Percival."
+
+Baldry gave a prolonged whistle of surprise.
+
+"How's that? Why, Percival has always set his back against fighting, and
+all the fellows are saying that it was to keep Moncrief major from
+fighting Newall that he called a meeting of his form."
+
+"I dare say. He seemed to be steering that way till that little
+turncoat, Mellor, came on the scene with a challenge from the Beetles."
+
+"A challenge from the Beetles!" cried Baldry. "Tell us all about it."
+
+Plunger told them all about it. And never had any one more attentive
+listeners than Plunger had as he related to them all that had happened
+at the meeting in the shed. Not the least interested were Harry Moncrief
+and Hibbert.
+
+"Paul going to fight," Harry repeated to himself. "I do so hope he'll
+win!" Then, remembering the words in which his father had once spoken of
+Paul, he added: "Win or lose, I'm certain Paul will bear himself
+bravely."
+
+Hibbert closed his eyes in the darkness, and prayed: "Watch over
+Percival--keep him from harm. For Christ's sake. Amen."
+
+The boy had not forgotten Paul's kindness to him. It stood out as the
+one bright spot in his memory since he had come to Garside. For once he
+was allowed to sleep without pillows being thrown at him, the clothes
+pulled from him by means of a carefully-arranged cord, and playful
+tricks of that sort, of which both he and Harry had been the victims as
+the latest recruits to the dormitory. The great event of the morrow
+caused everything else to be forgotten.
+
+Paul, meantime, had not had a very pleasant time of it. It had been with
+the greatest difficulty he had induced Stanley to stay away from the
+meeting of his form. After the meeting, one or two pointed allusions
+were made to his absence by his class-mates, and to make these cut the
+deeper, he overheard Parfitt say to Devey:
+
+"You were quite right in shouting for Percival. He came out better than
+I thought. It's the other fellow who's so contemptible--getting his
+friend to call a meeting to white-wash him, and do all the dirty work.
+He'd be hounded out of any decent school."
+
+These remarks were made loud enough for Stanley to hear, and for his
+special benefit. Though he knew well enough that he was "the other
+fellow" referred to, he could not speak. Nevertheless, he felt angry
+with himself for allowing Paul to persuade him to stay away from the
+meeting. Then, from feeling angry with himself, he felt angry with Paul,
+and the reception he gave him on his return was not a very cordial one.
+
+"What have you been saying about me?" he demanded.
+
+"Nothing that could harm you," smiled Paul. "It's all right between you
+and Newall. The quarrel's settled."
+
+"But how is it settled? You haven't made me swallow dirt, have you?"
+
+"I think not," answered Paul, wounded at the suggestion. "You ought to
+know me better than that."
+
+For the first time there was a rift between the two friends. Paul did
+not tell Stanley what had happened at the meeting, but left him to find
+out. He heard all about it from Waterman--the easy-going, indolent
+Waterman.
+
+"Going to fight a Beetle, is he?" said Stanley, when Waterman had ended.
+"It was good of him to take my part, but I wish he hadn't let me down
+so."
+
+But when he met Paul in the dormitory that night, he only remembered
+that he was his friend, and that he was going to fight for the honour of
+the Form on the morrow.
+
+"I'm sorry I spoke so hastily, Paul," he whispered. "Forgive me."
+
+The next afternoon was a holiday for both Garside and St. Bede's. It was
+for this reason that the challenge had been fixed for that date.
+Cranstead Common was midway between the two schools, and the sand-pit
+was in an open part of the common, where the ground for some little
+distance round was destitute of grass or furze.
+
+The Fifth Form had kept to themselves the fact that an encounter was to
+take place in the sand-pit, for fear it might reach the ear of some of
+the masters, and be stopped. They were not aware that Plunger knew all
+that had transpired at the meeting. Plunger was as loyal to his Form as
+the Fifth were to theirs, and the secret of what was to happen at the
+sand-pit was communicated in confidence to them on the distinct
+understanding that it wasn't to travel farther.
+
+When, therefore, the afternoon came, and the boys of the Fifth set out
+in little parties of three or four to make for the sand-pit, they could
+not understand how it was that little parties of the Third were found to
+be travelling in the same direction. Still more curious were the various
+articles borne by these little bands of stragglers. One group bore a
+football; another shouldered a butterfly net, without regard to the fact
+that butterflies had not been seen for many weeks; a third group
+fishing-rods, and so on.
+
+Freddy Plunger was amongst the anglers. He was talking loudly about his
+achievements at different times with rod and line, when Devey, Arbery,
+and Leveson came up with him.
+
+"What are you fishing for, Plunger?" asked Devey, catching him gently by
+the ear. "Whales?"
+
+"No--eels!" retorted Plunger snappily, having good cause to remember
+Devey the night before. "Slippery things, eels, aren't they?"
+
+"Not half so slippery as you are, Mr. Plunger. But don't be cheeky."
+
+"Never am, Mr. Devey. That's my fault--always too polite. Born like it,
+so can't help myself. Where are you going to, Mr. Devey?"
+
+"That's my business, Mr. Plunger. Little boys shouldn't ask
+questions--they should be seen and not heard. If you have a good catch,
+ask us to supper, won't you? Ta-ta, Plunger!"
+
+And Devey and his companions went on, leaving Plunger and his companions
+chuckling in their sleeves.
+
+"Mr. Devey thinks himself mighty clever now, but he looked an awful ass
+in the shed last night when all the fellows turned on him for laughing
+like a paroquet," grinned Plunger. "I nearly killed myself trying to
+keep my feelings under. It was enough to make a cat scream. Oh, dear;
+oh, my!"
+
+And Plunger went off at the recollection, till he received a dig in the
+ribs from Baldry which made him gasp.
+
+"Shut up, Freddy; here comes the noble champion of the Fifth! He doesn't
+look over-pleased with himself."
+
+As he spoke, Paul and Stanley passed them. Baldry was not far wrong.
+Paul was far from pleased with himself. He was going to fight in cold
+blood a boy with whom he personally had no quarrel, and he had not the
+slightest notion who his opponent was. He might be a noble-hearted
+fellow, as much averse to quarrelling and fighting as he was, but
+compelled to fight--as he had been--for "the honour of the Form."
+He--Paul--had faced danger, and had not shrunk from it; but somehow, he
+shrunk from the encounter before him.
+
+"Look! There's quite a crowd at the sand-pit already," exclaimed
+Stanley, who was a great deal more excited at the coming encounter than
+Paul was.
+
+By this time they had come within sight of the sand-pit. Paul, looking
+up, saw that on one side had gathered most of the boys of the Fifth,
+while on the other side were the boys from St. Bede's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+WHAT HAPPENED AT THE SAND-PIT
+
+
+Though the boys of St. Bede's and those of Garside regarded themselves
+as adversaries, to their credit be it said no outbreak of temper had
+resulted from their meeting at the sand-pit. There had been some amount
+of good-humoured chaff bandied to and fro across the pit, but nothing
+more. All were eager for the coming struggle.
+
+A cheer went up from the Garsides directly they caught sight of Paul.
+The Bedes eyed him critically.
+
+"Looks grim enough--as though he meant business," said one, as Paul
+advanced to the pit.
+
+The cheer of his comrades put fresh life into Paul. His blood, which had
+seemed stagnant, began to race through his veins.
+
+"For the honour of the Form," he said to himself, between his clenched
+teeth, "I must--I will win!"
+
+As though his comrades wished to give him all the encouragement in their
+power, another cheer went up as he entered the pit, and took up his
+position on the floor of hard-pressed sand below.
+
+"Where's the other fellow?" he asked.
+
+"Doesn't seem to have turned up yet," said Arbery; "but I don't think
+it's quite time. How goes it, Levy?"
+
+Leveson had a stop-watch and was very proud of it. He usually acted as
+timekeeper at the school sports, when the stop-watch was very much to
+the fore. He prided himself on one thing--always knowing the right time.
+His was the only watch that kept the right time at Garside--so, at
+least, Leveson said. To ask Leveson the "correct time" was one of the
+greatest compliments you could pay him. It was a tacit acknowledgment
+that the time kept by Leveson's stop-watch was superior to any other.
+
+"Three minutes eighteen seconds to three," answered Leveson, after
+examining the watch.
+
+"Oh, we'll make you a present of the seconds," said Arbery. Then he
+shouted across to the Bedes: "I say, Beetles, is that champion of yours
+coming on an ambulance?"
+
+"No; that's coming after," cried a bright-eyed lad named Sterry, from
+the other side, "to take your champion home!"
+
+A loud laugh from the Bedes greeted this retort.
+
+"He scored over you there, Arbery," said indolent Waterman.
+
+Scarcely had the laughter died away than it was followed by a loud
+cheer.
+
+"Their man's coming at last. What's the time, Levy?"
+
+"One minute thirty secs. to the hour. He's cut it rather fine--must be a
+cool sort of bounder," answered Leveson. "Hallo, look there! Hang me if
+there isn't Master Plunger and a lot of the howlers from his form."
+
+Arbery looked in the direction indicated. Plunger and his companions
+were lying at full length on the banks of the pit, peering over its
+sides and taking the deepest possible interest in the proceedings below.
+
+"So it is. How did the little beggar get to know what was going on, I
+wonder?"
+
+"Said he was going eel-fishing. Thought it was a blind," said Devey.
+"Hallo, they're peeling!"
+
+Paul had taken off his coat, and rolled back his sleeves. The champion
+of the other Form could not at first be seen because of the throng which
+had gathered round him, but presently he came from the group that
+surrounded him with his coat off, and his arms bared, just as Paul
+stepped into the ring.
+
+Their eyes met. Paul staggered back, as though he had been struck. The
+youth who stood before him was Gilbert Wyndham, he who had helped him on
+the night he was fleeing from Zuker. Fight him? Impossible! Not though
+his life depended on it!
+
+The excited murmur of voices that followed the two into the ring ceased.
+A strange silence rested on the place, as the two boys confronted each
+other. Then as the two schools were waiting eagerly for the first blow
+to be struck, they saw Paul's hands fall helpless to his side; saw the
+colour go from his face; saw the white lips move. What did it mean? They
+stared in wonder, and the wonder grew as Paul turned away and took his
+coat from Moncrief.
+
+"I cannot fight," he murmured.
+
+With his coat on his arm he hastened from the pit. Then the silence was
+broken by the Bedes. They howled, and jeered and hooted. And above the
+hooting and the jeers there rose the cry:
+
+"The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"
+
+Heedless of the shouting and the jeers, Paul walked swiftly away, as one
+seized with sudden fear. His own Form still remained silent. They might
+have been struck dumb. It was all so strange--so unexpected.
+
+Then they in turn shouted and jeered after the retreating figure.
+
+Paul heard the shouts. Those from the Bedes made him shiver. These from
+his own Form cut into him like whips.
+
+"They do not understand! How--how can I tell them?" he murmured as he
+pressed on, anxious to get away from the place as quickly as possible.
+He did not pause till he came in sight of the old flag waving above the
+school. Had he disgraced that flag--the legacy of a brave soldier? Had
+he dishonoured it? God would be his judge.
+
+He passed three or four boys as he entered the grounds. They knew
+nothing of what had happened at the sand-pit. One boy spoke to him, but
+Paul took no heed of him. He had not heard him. He was as though deaf
+and blind to all around him. He did not pause till he reached one of the
+class-rooms; then his head fell on his arms.
+
+The shouts and jeers followed him, and broke harshly in upon the
+stillness of the room. With startling distinctness he could hear them,
+and the cry went ringing through his brain:
+
+"The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"
+
+Then resting there, with his head bowed on his arms, he searched his
+conscience, and asked himself the question--"Have I done right?" Had he
+acted as his father would have wished him to act had he been living? Had
+he done right in the sight of God? Yes, he felt confident he had done
+right in refusing to fight Wyndham, though he could not explain to his
+class-mates why he had so acted. That night ride was known only to
+Stanley and him. It was impossible for him to divulge the secret to his
+Form. He must suffer their taunts in silence, trusting that the time
+would soon come when he might speak.
+
+"There's one good thing, old Stan will understand me. I can make it
+clear enough to him. He ought to be here by this time. Why doesn't he
+come?" he asked himself.
+
+He tried to shake off the gloom that oppressed him, but could not. His
+head went to the desk again, and again he heard the yells and hooting of
+the boys at the pit; but the cries seemed fainter.
+
+"Why doesn't Stan come--why doesn't Stan come?" he kept asking himself.
+
+He rested thus for some time--how long he knew not--when he was roused
+by a timid hand resting on his arm, while a gentle voice whispered:
+"Percival."
+
+He looked up quickly. Hibbert was standing beside him, his face, usually
+so pale, was slightly flushed, as the brown eyes turned to Paul.
+
+"I haven't disturbed you, have I?" he asked.
+
+"What do you want with me, Hibbert?" Paul asked rather sharply; for he
+did not like the lad breaking in upon him so quietly.
+
+"You looked so wretched and miserable I could not help coming in. You're
+not angry with me, are you?"
+
+"Angry with you? No; why should I be?" answered Paul, forcing a smile to
+his face at the boy's eager question.
+
+"Oh, I'm so used to people being angry with me, except you and--and Mr.
+Weevil."
+
+"Mr. Weevil! Doesn't he ever get angry with you?"
+
+"No; he's very good to me."
+
+Paul was rather astonished at this piece of information, knowing that
+Weevil had a reputation for harshness.
+
+"Glad to hear it. He makes it up on the other fellows." Paul's mind
+flitted back to the night when Stanley was sent to Dormitory X. "But why
+aren't you outside, enjoying yourself with your class-mates?"
+
+"They never want me to play with them. I'm no good at their games,"
+answered the boy sadly; "but I've been with some of them this afternoon.
+I was at the--sand-pit."
+
+He volunteered the information with some hesitation. Paul flushed. What
+had happened would soon be known, then, to every boy in the school.
+
+"We found out what was going to happen in our Form; and so I went with
+the rest to see you--to see you----"
+
+Again the boy hesitated.
+
+"To see me turn tail and run. Out with it. Don't be afraid of hurting my
+feelings," cried Paul bitterly. "The other fellows won't. You'll hear
+what they'll be calling me presently--quite a choice collection of
+names--cur, pariah, coward, and the rest of it."
+
+"No, not coward. I know you couldn't be," said the boy confidently. "Any
+one can see that by looking in your face. I know you had some reason for
+going away. It's that made you so wretched. I knew you would be, and
+so--and so after waiting a little time to see what would happen, I
+followed after you."
+
+Paul was touched at Hibbert's devotion. In that one moment the boy had
+repaid a hundredfold the little act of kindness he had shown him when he
+first entered the school. He had come to Paul in his loneliness, and had
+brought a ray of sunshine into the gloom that had suddenly sprung up
+around him.
+
+"Do you know, Hibbert, you're a very good little chap to speak of me as
+you do, and to think of me as you do? I'm a long way off deserving it, I
+can tell you. You waited after I left the sand-pit, you say, to see what
+would happen? What did happen? They kept up the groans for me till they
+were tired, I suppose?"
+
+"Don't speak of it," said the boy, shivering.
+
+"You needn't be afraid of giving me pain, I tell you. I'm getting pretty
+tough. After they'd done hooting me----"
+
+"While they were still hooting you, Moncrief threw off his jacket, and
+leapt into your place."
+
+"What!" cried Paul, starting to his feet, and staring at the boy. "Leapt
+into my place?"
+
+"Yes, stood up to the Beetle--the fellow they call Wyndham; then the
+hooting stopped, and our fellows cheered madly, specially when Newall
+came forward and backed up Moncrief major."
+
+"Newall! backed up Moncrief!" repeated Paul, bewildered. "Do you mean to
+say Moncrief fought with Wyndham?"
+
+"Yes, wildly--madly."
+
+Paul closed his eyes, shuddering. He could see the two confronting each
+other, and staggering about in the sand-pit. For some moments he could
+not speak, and when his hands came from his face, it was as white as the
+boy's before him.
+
+"And who--who came off best, Hibbert?"
+
+"I don't know. I--I could not stop. To see them fighting so made
+me--made me feel bad all over. I'm not like other boys. And--and all the
+time I was thinking of you; so I hastened here, and--and found you."
+
+"They were still fighting as you left?"
+
+"Yes, yes; but where are you going?"
+
+Paul had seized his cap and turned to the door.
+
+"To see what has happened."
+
+"It will be all over by now; don't go," pleaded the boy.
+
+But Paul was deaf to Hibbert's pleading.
+
+"What have I done--what have I done?" he asked himself as he rushed into
+the grounds. "Fool--fool, not to have guessed what would happen!"
+
+Somehow we do rarely guess what will happen. Things which seem so clear
+to us after they have happened are quite hidden from our sight
+beforehand. The best of us grope about in the dark, and stumble blindly
+along as Paul Percival had done.
+
+Paul rushed on--back--back to the sand-pit. Suddenly he came to a dead
+stop. The hum of many voices reached his ears. A crowd of boys were
+coming towards him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+"HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A LEPER"
+
+
+In the midst of the boys coming along the road was Stanley. He was not
+so easy to recognize, for his face was bruised and swollen, and a thin
+streak of scarlet came from a cut near the right eye. He seemed to
+stagger along the road rather than walk, and, what was most strange,
+Newall had one arm through his, as though to support him.
+
+Paul's heart fell. It was true enough what Hibbert had said. A fight had
+taken place, and, judging by appearances, Stanley had had the worst of
+it. For the moment Paul could not move; then, rousing himself, with an
+effort he ran towards Stanley.
+
+Instantly he was greeted with a storm of hisses. Stanley turned from him
+with a look on his bruised and swollen face Paul had never seen there
+before. It was a look of repugnance, as though the affection between
+them had suddenly turned to loathing. Then the crowd of boys parted, and
+drawing away from Paul, left him standing there alone--he might have
+been a leper.
+
+He began to feel indignant against Stanley. He at least ought to have
+known why he had refused to fight Wyndham; and then, as he recalled
+Stanley's bruised face, his indignation vanished. The old tenderness and
+affection for his friend came back in a wave.
+
+"Why did I leave you, Stan--why did I leave you?"
+
+He reproached himself, and still more bitterly Wyndham. It was Wyndham
+who had done this--who had bruised and battered Stanley, and raised this
+barrier between them.
+
+"You'll have to reckon with me some day, Master Wyndham," he said to
+himself.
+
+He looked in the direction of Garside. The boys had disappeared from
+sight. How could he get an explanation of what had happened? He would go
+and demand one; but somehow as he turned to the school his feet seemed
+as heavy as lead. For the first time he felt as though he had no right
+there. What was the use of going back when no one wanted him? He had
+made a horrible mess of everything.
+
+Paul felt utterly miserable, as though he would like to flee from
+everything and every one. Then the pale face of little Hibbert rose
+before him, and he heard him speaking again as he had spoken to him in
+the class-room:
+
+"Coward! I know you couldn't be. Any one can see that by looking in your
+face."
+
+There was one at the school, at any rate, who had not lost faith in him.
+And Paul was strengthened by the memory.
+
+Thus thinking, he turned away from the school again, scarcely heeding
+the direction in which he went. Happening to look up, he saw Waterman
+coming along the road towards him. He was strolling along with both
+hands thrust in his pockets in his usual leisurely manner. He was one of
+that class of boys who never seem to have anything to do, and plenty of
+time to do it in.
+
+"I wonder if he will shun me like the rest?" thought Paul. And then he
+added with a smile: "At any rate he won't run away from me. It'll be too
+much trouble."
+
+As Paul anticipated, Waterman made no attempt to avoid him, but he would
+have passed on without speaking, had not Paul stood directly in his
+pathway.
+
+"You were at the sand-pit this afternoon, Waterman?"
+
+"Of course I was."
+
+"And saw what happened?"
+
+"Yes," was the curt answer, and Waterman endeavoured to pass on, but
+Paul still stood in his pathway.
+
+"You're not in a hurry, Watey."
+
+"Hurry!" repeated the boy indignantly, with raised eyebrows, as though
+that were one of the most offensive words Paul could use. "I never fag
+over things, you know."
+
+"Then you can spare me a minute or two. I'll turn back with you, if you
+like."
+
+Waterman neither assented nor dissented. So soon as Paul turned, he kept
+on his way, with both hands in his pockets, as though unconscious of
+Paul's presence.
+
+"I want to know what happened at the pit after I left."
+
+"Haven't you seen any of the other fellows? Why didn't you get them to
+explain? I'm never good at explanations."
+
+"I meant speaking to them, but they booed and hissed at me, like geese."
+
+"Really?" And Waterman's eyebrows went up, as though he marvelled at so
+much unnecessary exertion being expended on Paul. "I don't see the good
+of that, but it's the way some fellows have of showing their feeling.
+And come to think of it, I don't wonder. You cut up badly at the
+sand-pit. I really don't know whether I'm doing quite right in speaking
+to you--I really don't."
+
+"You can settle that point after. Tell me first what happened at the
+sand-pit, Watey," urged Paul.
+
+"Moncrief took your place when you turned tail----"
+
+"Yes, yes; I've heard that. After--after----"
+
+"Well, unfortunately for Garside, Moncrief got the worst of it. He made
+a very plucky stand, but he wasn't a match for the Beetle--what's the
+fellow's name?--Wyndham. Moncrief stood well up to him, but it was no
+good. He was knocked down once or twice, until Newall, who was backing
+him, you know, threw up the sponge. Moncrief would never have given in
+himself. I never saw a fellow look so wretched and miserable as he did
+when, after coming to, they told him it was all over and he had lost.
+But the fellows cheered him for his pluck, and some of the Beetles
+joined in after they had shouted themselves hoarse over their own
+champion, especially that little turncoat, Mellor. He shouted himself
+black in the face."
+
+"Wretched and miserable, you say?" repeated Paul. Brief as Waterman's
+description was, he could picture all that had happened--he could see
+Stanley reeling under Wyndham's blows, and the climax of it all when he
+had swallowed the last bitter drop--the humiliation of defeat.
+
+"Yes, wretched and miserable, and I don't wonder at it." They walked on
+in silence for some moments; then Waterman suddenly spoke again: "Look
+here, Percival, it's an awful fag trying to understand any one, but I
+once thought I understood you. I never dreamt you'd turn tail like you
+did. I'll never try to understand any one again. I'll give it up."
+
+"Bear with me a little longer. I had my reasons for what I did."
+
+"I suppose you had. You can't be quite an idiot. But reasons can be
+explained. Why didn't you explain yours?"
+
+"Look here," said Paul; "you've acted decently towards me, Waterman, and
+I'll explain to you as far as I'm able. Supposing a Beetle had done you,
+a few weeks back, a splendid turn--got you out of a tight corner in
+which you might have lost your life? Are you following me?"
+
+"Beetle--tight corner. Yes, I follow; but don't make it too hazy. I
+don't want to suffer from brain-fag. You're out of a tight corner, and
+your life's saved by--a Beetle. Trot along."
+
+"Well, supposing on your return to school after that, a breeze springs
+up between the Beetles and the Fifth; and supposing the Fifth insist on
+you being its champion?"
+
+"Oh, that's absurd. They'd never insist on my being its champion. I
+can't follow you there, Percival."
+
+"I know it's hard," smiled Paul; "but, we're only supposing, you know."
+
+"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten; but I can't see the use of supposing
+absurdities. Go on your own giddy way. Supposing----"
+
+"The Fifth insist on you being its champion; and then supposing, when
+you get to the sand-pit to do battle for your form, you find that the
+champion of the Beetles--the one you're to do battle with--is the fellow
+who saved your life. Well, supposing all this, could you have fought
+him?"
+
+"You don't mean to say that this is what happened to you?" demanded
+Waterman, rousing himself in a surprising way.
+
+"You haven't answered me."
+
+"Well, if I could fancy myself as a champion of any kind, I don't think
+I could go for one who'd saved my life--bother it, no! But is this
+really what happened to you, Percival?"
+
+"Yes, it really happened to me."
+
+"Then why didn't you explain?"
+
+"Because I couldn't. My tongue's tied for the present. I'm only
+explaining to you in confidence, and I want you to promise me that you
+won't let it go any further."
+
+"I hate mysteries, they're so worrying. Why should there be any
+mystery?"
+
+"Why? I can't explain, except--except that there's something more
+important than the honour of the Fifth; than the honour of the school
+even. That's the reason why I'm obliged to keep silent."
+
+"Oh, I say, this is getting more and more worrying. But if you don't
+want me to speak, of course, I'll keep quiet!"
+
+Paul knew that he could trust Waterman. In spite of his slackness--in
+spite of his indolence--he could be relied on to keep his word. In fact,
+he had one or two good qualities in reserve. If he made no close
+friendships, he had no enemies. "It was too great a trouble," he would
+have told you. "Too great a fag." That was only half the truth; the
+whole truth was that Waterman had, at bottom, a very good heart, though
+it was not often seen. It was hidden under his indolence of manner.
+
+He allowed a corner of it to be seen in a curious fashion on the way
+back to the school. He stuck to Paul's side--both hands in his pocket,
+of course--and made no attempt to "cut him," as the others had done.
+They passed several of the Gargoyles as they reached the school grounds,
+and directly Waterman's ears caught the suggestion of a jibe--and he had
+rather sharp ears considering how lazy he was--he would start whistling
+a popular tune, so that the jibe had a good deal of the sting taken from
+it by the time it reached its mark.
+
+"I wish you could make it right with the fellows," he remarked, as he
+took leave of Paul.
+
+"All in good time. I'm grateful that you haven't turned your back on me,
+Waterman."
+
+"Oh, don't butter me for that. I can't turn my back on any one--it's too
+great a fag."
+
+And Waterman strolled away with his hands in his pocket as though they
+had been glued there, whistling "Hail, smiling morn."
+
+Paul's talk with him had put him in a more cheerful mood.
+
+"I've only to find Stan and explain things. I don't care a snap of my
+fingers for the other fellows--they can go to Halifax," Paul told
+himself, as he went in search of Stanley. But though he searched for him
+in every direction, he could not find him.
+
+"He don't like to show himself just yet, with so many beauty spots on
+his face. Perhaps he's lying down," thought Paul, as he made his way to
+the dormitory. But Stanley was not in the dormitory--it was empty.
+"Strange. Where can he have got to?"
+
+Descending the stairs, the first boy he ran against was Plunger.
+
+"Seen anything of Moncrief major?" he asked.
+
+Plunger simply stared at him, while his eyebrows went up, in the way
+they had, till they disappeared into the stubborn thatch above.
+
+"Did you hear what I said?"
+
+Plunger did another movement with his eccentric eyebrows, then turned on
+his heel. Paul sprang after him, angry in spite of himself.
+
+"Now look here, Master Plunger," he said, seizing him by the collar, and
+twisting him sharply round, "none of your nonsense. You needn't pretend
+that you didn't hear me, because you did. I asked you a civil question,
+and I want a civil answer."
+
+"You ought to know more about him than I do, Percival. The last I saw of
+him he was being knocked about for you in the sand-pit."
+
+And Plunger laughed impudently in Paul's face. Paul's hand fell from his
+collar. The jibe struck home, and Plunger went laughing on his way. He
+was always supremely happy when he could "score," as he termed it, "off
+those bounders of the Fifth." Paul felt that he had descended low,
+indeed, when he could be used as a target for the jibes of Master Freddy
+Plunger.
+
+He glanced back to the flag that waved above Garside--from the flag to
+the school door. As he did so, the figure he was looking for appeared in
+the doorway--the figure of Stanley Moncrief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE "GARGOYLE RECORD"
+
+
+Stanley was not alone, as Paul hoped he would be. Newall and Parfitt
+were with him. It was evident that his new-found friends had been
+"doctoring" him, for the blood had been carefully washed from his face,
+and it presented a less bruised and battered appearance.
+
+As he came from the door he caught sight of Paul. Paul hoped that he had
+got over his bitterness towards him by this time, and that he would come
+forward and greet him on the old footing of friendship. But he was
+disappointed; for as soon almost as Stanley caught sight of him, he
+turned away his head and commenced talking rapidly to Newall, as though
+he were unaware of Paul's existence. It was perfectly evident that his
+feeling to Paul had not softened in any way, and it was quite as clear
+that he meant ignoring him.
+
+Paul determined to speak to him, however, so, as he passed by him, he
+touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Stanley!"
+
+At his touch, Stanley turned swiftly round and confronted him with
+blazing eyes.
+
+"What do you want with me?"
+
+"To speak with you for a few moments--alone."
+
+"I've had as much speaking with you as I ever want to have. I never wish
+to speak with you again--never, never!" He was greatly agitated. His
+voice was trembling with passion; but it grew calmer and harder, as,
+turning to his new-found companions, he said:
+
+"You hear what I say, Newall; and you, Parfitt. You are my witnesses."
+
+"Yes, we hear. We are your witnesses," said Parfitt.
+
+"Thanks!" And without waiting an answer from Paul, the three passed on.
+Not that Paul had an answer to give. He could not have spoken had his
+life depended on it. He was too staggered; too pained. Never speak to
+Stanley again! He with whom he had been on the closest terms of
+friendship ever since he had been at Garside!
+
+"Had he listened to me for a few moments I could have explained all. He
+doesn't dream who Wyndham is. He can be as stubborn as a mule. And what
+a look he gave me!" thought Paul. "I never dreamt that Stan would ever
+look at me in that way. I know what it is--it isn't Stan himself. It's
+those fellows he's picked up. He's sore against me, and they keep
+rubbing it in to keep the sore open. If I could only get him away from
+them."
+
+Paul thought for a moment or two how he should act. In spite of
+Stanley's hard words, he had no intention that the friendship which had
+existed between them should be severed without one more effort on his
+part to heal the breach. They were bound to meet in the dormitory that
+night. It would then be possible for him to whisper a word or two of
+explanation.
+
+But when evening came he found to his dismay that Stanley had left the
+dormitory. He had got permission to exchange cubicles with Leveson; so
+that he was now in the same dormitory as Newall.
+
+"He's gone over bag and baggage to the enemy," said Paul sorrowfully.
+"If Parfitt had only walked his chalks, and taken up his quarters with
+his friend Newall, we could very well have spared him; but Stan----"
+
+He glanced round. Parfitt was watching him from the side of his bed,
+enjoying his discomfiture. That did not serve to lessen Paul's sorrow.
+
+"----forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against
+us."
+
+Very earnestly he breathed the divine prayer that evening. The breach
+between him and Stanley seemed to be widening. What was to be done?
+There was one way left. He would write to him on the morrow.
+
+"He has refused to listen to an explanation, but he can't refuse to read
+my letter."
+
+So Paul rose early in the morning and wrote a letter. He explained as
+briefly as he could the reasons which had made him act as he had done at
+the sand-pit.
+
+"Wyndham was the fellow who acted so nobly when I went with your
+father's letter to Redmead that night, Stan. I could not raise my hand
+against him, and I never dreamed that you would. I hurried away because
+it was impossible for me to explain to the fellows what happened on that
+night--you alone know why. It would have got all over the place, and
+would have soon reached Weevil's ears. Then the last chance of finding
+out what is between him and Zuker would have gone. I can quite
+understand your soreness against me, old fellow, and I'm sorry--very
+sorry--that things turned out as they did at the sand-pit; but I hope
+you now see that I'm not so much to blame as you thought me. It is our
+first fall-out. Let it be our last. We were never meant to be enemies,
+old fellow. It mustn't be--mustn't. If all are against me, and you are
+with me, I shan't so much mind; so let's shake hands."
+
+Paul put the letter in an envelope and handed it to Waterman, who was
+still stretching and yawning, as though not quite awake.
+
+"Do you mind giving this to Moncrief major. You're about the only fellow
+in the Form who wouldn't mind doing me a favour," he said.
+
+"Moncrief major. Yes, yes; of course I will. It's an awfully lazy sort
+of morning, don't you think, Percival?" answered Waterman, stretching
+himself as he took the letter.
+
+That was Waterman's opinion of mornings generally. Every morning was a
+"lazy sort of a morning."
+
+"Yes, Watey," answered Paul, taking him by the arm and hurrying him
+towards the grounds where most of the scholars were. In a little while
+he espied Stanley, playing with Newall and Parfitt in the fives-court.
+
+"How fellows can fag about at that stupid game I could never make out,"
+remarked Waterman. "Am I to wait for an answer?"
+
+"If you wouldn't mind."
+
+"Mind? Not in the least. Waiting is so restful."
+
+He strolled off leisurely with the letter. Paul watched him. He reached
+the fives-court, and, waiting his opportunity, handed the note to
+Stanley. He looked at it; then questioned Waterman. A laugh went up from
+Newall and Parfitt as he did so. Then Stanley, without opening the
+letter, tore it into fragments and threw them contemptuously into the
+air.
+
+Waterman thrust his hands deep in his pockets, shrugged his shoulders,
+and returned to Paul.
+
+"You saw what happened, Percival?" he said.
+
+"Yes, I saw what happened," came the slow answer. "What was it he asked
+for?"
+
+"He only asked who it was from. I told him."
+
+"And then he deliberately tore my letter up and tossed the pieces in the
+air. Waterman, I'm sorry that you were so insulted."
+
+"Don't think of me. I rather liked it--really. A snub does one good on a
+lazy sort of morning like this--it really does."
+
+He was about to pass on, but, checking himself, said in a more serious
+tone:
+
+"I wish I could have brought you a better answer, Percival."
+
+That day was one of the longest days Paul ever remembered: it dragged so
+slowly along. There was Stanley in the same room, sitting at times
+within a few feet of him, and yet they did not look at each other. No
+word passed between them.
+
+"I will never hold out my hand to him again," said Paul in the
+bitterness of his heart. He had done all that could be done to bring
+Stanley to reason, but every effort failed. "He must go his own way, and
+I must go mine. Some day, perhaps, he'll be sorry that he did not read
+my letter."
+
+Belonging to the Fourth Form was a boy named Dick Jessel. He was a
+fair-haired, blue-eyed boy--quite a Saxon type--with a shrewd, sharp
+wit. His father was the editor of a provincial paper, and Jessel ran a
+journal of his own at the school, by the aid of a hectograph and Jowitt,
+of the same Form, who was sub-editor, reporter, and "printer's devil"
+rolled into one. They were called the "two J's."
+
+A couple of days after the struggle at the sand-pit a number was issued
+of the _Gargoyle Record_--so the journal was named. Among other items of
+news appeared the following:
+
+     _Motto for the Fifth._
+
+    He who fights and runs away
+    Will live to fight another day.
+
+    "Lost, stolen, or strayed.--A few pages from the Black Book.
+    Whoever will bring the same to the P. D., at the office of this
+    paper, will be rewarded."
+
+    "Hints on Fashion.--A fresher of the Third is prepared to give
+    hints on the correct style in trousers, spats, and white
+    waistcoats. How they should be worn, and why. References exchanged
+    and given--through the matron--preferably by carte-de-visite."
+
+    "Lost, stolen, or strayed.--Missing Link from the Third. Last seen
+    in all his native beauty on a window in the Forum. Believed to have
+    hidden himself in a box so as to escape the notice of his
+    pursuers."
+
+    "Notice.--Our poet is stuck for a rhyme to 'hunger.' If any one can
+    oblige the poet we'll give him a paragraph all to himself in the
+    next number. N.B.--The rhyme must be a name of some kind--bird,
+    beast, or fish."
+
+    "Dropped. Somewhere near the sand-pit on Cranstead Common. Honour
+    of the Fifth. When last seen was covered by crawlers--believed to
+    be Beetles."
+
+Plunger was one of the earliest to obtain a copy of the _Gargoyle
+Record_. He read the first two paragraphs, and then raced into the
+common room bubbling over with excitement.
+
+Several boys were standing round the fire--some of the Third Form,
+including Harry Moncrief, Baldry, and Sedgefield; one or two of the
+Fourth, and three or four of the Fifth, including Stanley Moncrief,
+Newall--the two were now almost inseparable--Arbery, and Leveson.
+
+"Oh, I say, have you seen the last number of the _Record_? It's a
+slashing number, I can tell you," Plunger burst out.
+
+Immediately everybody was eager to get possession of the _Record_.
+Baldry made a snatch at it.
+
+"No, you don't, Baldhead," said Plunger, putting it behind him, with
+his back to the wall. "Manners! If you can't listen like a gentleman,
+you'd better git."
+
+"Don't mind him, Plunger. He's only an outsider," said Arbery
+soothingly. "Read."
+
+"Read--read!" came in a chorus.
+
+"And keep your eyebrows out of your head while you're about it," said
+Leveson. "I never saw such eyebrows."
+
+Plunger glared at Leveson.
+
+"Never mind him, Plunger," came the soothing voice of Arbery. "It's only
+envy, you know. I wish I had eyebrows like 'em. Get on."
+
+"I will get on--I will," said Plunger, with a last savage glance at
+Leveson. "Listen to this--here's a splendid hit against the Fifth." And
+he read: "'Motto for the Fifth. He who fights and runs away, Will live
+to fight another day.' Isn't it just splendid!"
+
+Those of the Fifth who were present maintained a gloomy silence, while
+those of the lower forms giggled and chuckled softly to themselves. They
+dared not do it too openly, for fear of bringing down upon their heads
+the wrath of the senior Form.
+
+When Plunger thought his first item of news had soaked itself thoroughly
+into the "bounders" of the Fifth, he read the second item. This fell
+rather flat and elicited no comment.
+
+Then Plunger began to bubble over again. He could not get on for a
+minute or two.
+
+"What's the ass giggling for?" "Get on, get on," and so forth, were some
+of the comments that greeted him.
+
+"'Hints on Fashion,'" read Plunger. "'A fresher of the Third'--ho,
+ho!--'is prepared to give hints on the correct style in trousers, spats,
+and white waistcoats. How they should be worn, and why.'--Ho, ho! Hold
+me up.--'References exchanged and given--through the matron--preferably
+by carte-de-visite.' Ho, ho! Hold me up."
+
+Plunger's eyebrows disappeared into his thatch of hair, and he laughed
+till he was black in the face, while all eyes went to poor Harry
+Moncrief, who devoutly wished that the ground might open and he might
+sink through.
+
+"Is that all, Plunger?" inquired Arbery. "Get on to the next paragraph,
+or you'll choke."
+
+"I couldn't get any farther for laughter," explained Plunger. "I thought
+you fellows would like that little tit-bit, so I rushed in here." He
+took up the paper again, and glanced at the next item. "This seems
+rather a good bit. 'Lost, stolen, or strayed. Missing Link from the
+Third. Last seen in all his native beauty on--on----"
+
+Plunger came to an abrupt pause, hummed and hawed, and began to look
+exceedingly uncomfortable.
+
+"'Last seen in all his native beauty----' Well, Plunger, what are you
+stopping for now?" cried Leveson. "If you can't read it yourself, hand
+over the _Record_ to some one who can."
+
+"Shan't; it's my paper, and I'm not going to hand it over to any
+one--see," answered Plunger defiantly, putting the paper behind his
+back.
+
+"Well, read on," shouted Arbery. "We're dying to hear who the Missing
+Link can be."
+
+"You'd better get a paper of your own, then; I'm not going to read any
+more of the trash."
+
+"Thought it was a slashing number? What's come over you, Freddy?" asked
+Baldry.
+
+"Shut up--oh!"
+
+The exclamation came from Plunger as he felt the paper snatched from
+behind him by Leveson; then, as he tried to regain possession of it, his
+arms were pinioned behind him by one of the Fifth Form boys.
+
+"Oh, oh, just listen!" laughed Leveson, "and see if you can guess why
+Plunger put the brake on. 'Lost, stolen, or strayed. Missing Link from
+the Third. Last seen in all his native beauty in the Forum. Believed to
+have hidden himself in a box so as to escape the notice of his
+pursuers.'"
+
+There was an outburst of laughter, as all eyes went to Plunger, who was
+making furious efforts to get away.
+
+"When it's a question of beauty, there's only one person in it," went on
+Leveson calmly, "and that is----"
+
+"Plunger!" came in a chorus.
+
+"When we do agree, our unanimity is wonderful, as the Head used to tell
+us," went on Leveson. "Any other pretty bits? Oh--ah! Listen to this:
+'Notice. Our poet is stuck for a rhyme to "hunger." If any one can
+oblige the poet, we'll give him a paragraph all to himself in the next
+number. N.B.--The rhyme must be a name of some kind--bird, beast, or
+fish.' Ho, ho! Don't squirm so, Plunger. What branch of the animal
+kingdom do you belong to?"
+
+While they were shrieking with laughter at his discomfiture Plunger
+shouted above it all:
+
+"Go on--go on! As you have gone so far, you'd better go on a bit
+farther. Ah, you're not quite so ready with your reading now, Mr.
+Leveson."
+
+The laughter suddenly stopped.
+
+"Read--read," came in a chorus.
+
+And Leveson read: "'Dropped--somewhere near sand-pit on Cranstead
+Common--Honour of the Fifth. When last seen, was covered by
+crawlers--believed to be Beetles.'"
+
+There was an ominous silence on the part of the senior boys. The juniors
+tittered. Leveson screwed up the paper in his hand.
+
+"Mind what you're doing, Leveson. That's my paper," cried Plunger. Then
+there was silence again, as Paul Percival entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+PAUL WRITES A LETTER
+
+
+Stanley's head had fallen to his breast as Leveson read that bitter
+paragraph from the _Record_. He looked up quickly as Paul entered the
+room. For the moment it seemed as though he would speak; then he bit his
+lips fiercely to keep back the words that sprang to them, and went from
+the room. Newall followed him, then Arbery. One by one they followed his
+example--Third Form boys as well as Fifth--until one only
+remained--Waterman, who had been comfortably resting in a chair by the
+fire throughout the scene described in the last chapter. As the last boy
+went out, he glanced up.
+
+"Hallo, Percival! Is that you?"
+
+"Why don't you do the same as the rest of the fellows, and clear out?"
+asked Paul bitterly.
+
+"I'm quite comfortable where I am, thank you."
+
+And Waterman stretched out his legs, and settled himself more
+comfortably in his chair. Paul could see that it was not altogether a
+question of comfort with Waterman. His laziness was only a cloak to
+disguise a real feeling of friendship towards him.
+
+"The fellows were discussing me as I came in?"
+
+"I don't quite know what they were discussing. Oh, young Plunger had
+made himself an ass, as usual, over some paragraph in the _Record_. That
+was it."
+
+Leveson had screwed up the paper, it will be remembered, when he had
+read the paragraph about the honour of the Fifth, and, as Paul entered,
+had flung it contemptuously from him into a corner of the room. Paul's
+eye went to it as Waterman was speaking.
+
+"Paragraph in the _Record_," he repeated, as he smoothed it out. "What
+have they got to say about Plunger?"
+
+He quickly read the paragraphs which had reference to Plunger, and then
+he read the one which he knew well enough had reference to himself.
+Waterman rose from his chair as the paper dropped from Paul's hand and
+placed a hand on his shoulder.
+
+"You're cut up, Percival. I wouldn't let that paragraph worry me. It's
+really not worth it. There's nothing in the world worth worrying
+about--there really isn't."
+
+"You don't mean what you say, Waterman--though it's kind of you to say
+it. Honour's worth troubling about--one's own honour; the honour of
+one's form; the honour of one's school; and I know that, disguise it as
+you may, you're just as keen on it as any in the school. And all the
+fellows believe that I've dragged it through the mud."
+
+"Oh, well, things will clear up some day, Percival; then you'll come
+into your own," said Waterman cheerfully.
+
+"Some day I suppose they will; but it may be a long time first, and
+there's no game so hard to play as the waiting game."
+
+"That's where you're wrong, Percival. There's no game in the world like
+it--the waiting game, I mean. There's no fag about it, and that's what I
+like. Just wait your time, you know--take it easy--no flurry--go as you
+please. It's the game of all games for my ha'pence. It really is,
+Percival. So don't worry, old fellow--and don't flurry."
+
+Paul could not help smiling to himself at Waterman's easy view of
+things, but the smile quickly disappeared when he was once more alone.
+Waterman had talked about "things clearing up," and "coming into his
+own"; but would things ever clear up? Would he ever win back the honour
+of the Form, and the confidence of those who belonged to it? Saddest of
+all was the memory that Stanley, who had been his greatest friend, now
+appeared to be his greatest enemy.
+
+Suddenly it occurred to him--he would write to Mr. Walter Moncrief, and
+tell him what had happened that night when he went to Dormitory X. The
+idea had occurred to him before, but he had put it off in the hope that
+he might have surer evidence to go upon. No further evidence had been
+forthcoming, but delay might be dangerous; so he determined to write.
+
+So he went into the writing-room, and wrote to Mr. Moncrief, telling him
+exactly what had happened on the night he went to Dormitory X.
+
+"I am pretty well certain," he went on, "that the man I saw with Mr.
+Weevil is one of the men who came after me on the night I came to your
+house at Redmead--the chief of the two. It was night-time, but I had a
+fairly good view of his face. What he has to do with Mr. Weevil, I can't
+make out. I should be sorry to think that Mr. Weevil has anything to do
+with a traitor to his country; but there must be something at the bottom
+of it all. What that something is, you may be able to find out better
+than I can. Dr. Colville, our Head, is away, so I cannot go to him. What
+ought to be done? Will you let me know what you think?"
+
+Having written this letter, Paul felt more comfortable. So soon as he
+heard from Mr. Moncrief, his lips would be unsealed, and he might take
+steps to clear his own honour. He would then be able to explain to his
+Form--to all the school if need be--what had prevented him from
+confronting Wyndham at the sand-pit.
+
+But having finished his letter, there was one great difficulty in the
+way. All letters written in the school were supposed to pass, first of
+all, through the hands of the master. How could he let that letter pass
+through the hands of Mr. Weevil? As he was thinking over this dilemma,
+Hibbert entered the room, and told him that Mr. Travers wished to speak
+to him. Mr. Travers was master of the Fifth.
+
+Paul rose to his feet, and thrust the letter in his pocket, wondering
+what Mr. Travers could want with him. Then it occurred to him that
+Hibbert was just the boy he wanted; he could trust Hibbert with
+anything. Hibbert would post the letter for him.
+
+"Hibbert, I want you to do me a great favour," he said, drawing the
+letter from his pocket. "I want you to post this letter for me. There's
+nothing wrong in it, I give you my word of honour; but, I don't want Mr.
+Weevil to know. That's why I am not sending it through the school post."
+
+Hibbert expressed his willingness to post it, and Paul handed him the
+letter, then went to Mr. Travers' room. Hibbert hastened off with the
+letter, but, as ill-luck would have it, he ran full tilt against Mr.
+Weevil, just as he reached the outer door. In doing so, he stumbled, and
+would have fallen to the ground had not the master caught him by the
+arm.
+
+[Illustration: "AS ILL-LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, HIBBERT RAN FULL TILT AGAINST
+MR. WEEVIL, JUST AS HE REACHED THE OUTER DOOR."]
+
+"Hallo! Where are you running to in such a hurry?" he asked, in that
+gentle voice he always used to Hibbert--softer than that used by him to
+any other boy in the school.
+
+"Out--in--the grounds, sir."
+
+In stumbling, Hibbert's hand had been jerked from his breast, and Mr.
+Weevil caught sight of the letter.
+
+"What's that--a letter?"
+
+Hibbert did not answer. It was useless denying it.
+
+"Step this way."
+
+Mr. Weevil's tone had now become quite stern. He led the way into one of
+the class-rooms; then closed the door.
+
+"Now have the goodness to hand me that letter," he said, gazing at
+Hibbert through half-closed eyes.
+
+Hibbert dared not refuse; so he handed him the letter.
+
+Mr. Weevil's eyes opened to their fullest extent when he saw the address
+on it:
+
+    W. MONCRIEF, Esq.,
+    Redmead,
+    Oakville (Kent).
+
+"For whom were you posting this letter--Moncrief major, or Moncrief
+minor?"
+
+"Neither," came the low answer.
+
+"Who, then? Come; no harm shall befall you if you speak the truth."
+
+"I don't mind myself, but--but--I don't want any harm to happen
+to--to----"
+
+"The one who sent you--eh? Well, we'll see. Just tell me frankly who
+sent you with this letter? It is quite easy for me to find out by
+opening it, you know; but I would much rather hear it from you."
+
+"Percival," answered the boy, hesitatingly, seeing there was no help for
+it.
+
+"Percival!" echoed the master. "Wait here a moment."
+
+He left the room with the letter. Hibbert wondered what he intended
+doing with it. Would he open it, or would he send for Percival? He was
+on thorns. Percival had particularly wished to keep the note from Mr.
+Weevil. The very first thing he had asked him to do--and that so
+simple--he had made a mess of.
+
+"How stupid of me! How stupid of me! Percival will never trust me with
+anything again."
+
+In a few minutes Mr. Weevil returned. His face had not lost its
+sternness.
+
+"In sending you with that letter, Percival knew well enough he was
+acting against the rules of the school."
+
+"I--I--dare say it slipped his memory, sir."
+
+"Nothing of the sort. He knew well enough he was breaking the rules of
+the school, and, worse still, that he was making you an accomplice in
+the act. However, I do not intend to deal severely with the case, for
+your sake. You are quite new to the ways and rules of this place. Take
+the letter. Post it; but don't say a word to Percival that I stopped
+you. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes; I understand," said the boy, as he took the letter, and ran off
+with it to the post. He looked at the letter as he ran. Was it the same?
+Yes, the very same--the same address, in Paul's handwriting. It was very
+kind of Mr. Weevil, and he would always be grateful to him for his
+kindness.
+
+Paul, meanwhile, had gone to Mr. Travers, wondering what he could want
+with him. The master of the Fifth was a man of about thirty, who led a
+studious, secluded life. He was a capable master, but had not succeeded
+in winning the sympathies of the scholars. One of the chief reasons was
+that, though he took an interest in their studies, he took little
+interest in their sports. He preferred instead long, solitary rambles.
+Paul was, therefore, the more surprised when he found that the object of
+Mr. Travers in sending for him was to question him as to the relations
+between him and his class-mates.
+
+"I've noticed that you do not appear to be on very good terms with the
+Form, Percival," he said. "I should not have said anything about it,
+only I happened to be near the Common Room this afternoon when you
+entered, and found that that was a signal for the others to march out. I
+don't like a feeling of that kind in my Form. I know well enough that
+boys will have their quarrels, and that they can be usually trusted to
+settle them alone; but this seems to me deeper than an ordinary quarrel,
+otherwise I should not have spoken. I have no wish to press for your
+confidence, but if you will tell me what the cause of this ill-feeling
+is, I might do something to bring about a better understanding between
+you and the Form."
+
+"Oh, it's only a bit of a dispute between me and Moncrief major."
+
+"And for a dispute between you and Moncrief major all the Form are
+against you?"
+
+"They take his side, sir. They think that he is right and I'm in the
+wrong--that is all."
+
+"That is all!" echoed the master. "And that is all the explanation you
+can give? Remember, I'm not forcing an explanation from you. I'm not
+asking you as your master, but as your friend."
+
+Paul was drawn to him as he had never been drawn before, such is the
+power of sympathy. He regretted more than ever that he had sent the
+letter to Mr. Moncrief; but it was impossible to recall it. Hibbert was
+on his way with it at that moment to the post.
+
+"That is all the explanation I can give, sir."
+
+"Very well, Percival"--the manner of Mr. Travers changed as the words
+fell from Paul's lips; he was again the master, and frigid as ice--"then
+there is nothing more to be said. I regret that I sent for you."
+
+Thus curtly dismissed, Paul went out, feeling miserable. At the time
+when he so wanted a friend he had lost one. And yet how else could he
+have acted? There was no other way. He must wait and see what the
+letter to Mr. Moncrief would bring forth. And with this thought
+uppermost in his mind he went to the writing-room to await the return
+of Hibbert.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE SCHOOL OF ADVERSITY
+
+
+Paul took up a pen as he sat and waited, and idly traced words upon the
+blotting-paper. But his thoughts were far away. He was thinking of the
+interview he had just had with Mr. Travers. He was still thinking of it
+when the door opened and Hibbert entered.
+
+"Have you posted the letter?" Paul asked.
+
+"Yes; the postman was just clearing the box when I slipped it in."
+
+Paul would almost as soon that he had not succeeded in posting it--that
+he had brought the letter back with him. Perhaps it was best as it was,
+however.
+
+"Thanks, Hibbert."
+
+He did not notice that the boy was looking uncomfortable--as though he
+had something on his mind but dared not speak it.
+
+"You have seen Mr. Travers?"
+
+"Yes." Then noticing for the first time the nervous, apprehensive look
+in the boy's eyes, and thinking it was due to the fear that he had got
+into further trouble with the master, he added: "Nothing happened. He
+was quite nice with me."
+
+"I'm glad of that."
+
+By this time Hibbert was standing by Paul's side. Suddenly an
+exclamation came from his lips.
+
+"Hallo! What's wrong?"
+
+Paul, looking at the boy, saw that his eyes were fixed upon the
+blotting-paper.
+
+"That--that! Do you know anybody of that name?" he asked, as he pointed
+to a name Paul had unconsciously traced on the blotting-paper--that of
+Zuker.
+
+"Why? Do you?" Paul asked.
+
+"Y-yes," answered the boy, with hesitation. "I--I once knew a boy of
+that name."
+
+"Where?" asked Paul, at once interested.
+
+"When I was at school in Germany; but there are a good many Zukers
+there, you know, and the boy I speak of is dead."
+
+"Dead! Did you know his father?"
+
+Hibbert shook his head. Paul tore up the blotting-paper. It was just
+possible that Mr. Weevil might catch sight of the name, just as Hibbert
+had done.
+
+"You--you don't like the name?" the boy asked, as he watched Paul.
+
+"Oh, it's as good as any other, I suppose."
+
+"You must have known some one of that name--I'm certain of it,"
+persisted the boy.
+
+"Well, I don't mind telling you, Hibbert--you've been such a good little
+chap to me--it was through a man of that name my father lost his life."
+
+"A man of the--of the name of Zuker?" stammered Hibbert.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Tell me--do tell me--all about it?" pleaded the boy, clutching Paul
+suddenly by the arm.
+
+"Oh, it's a sad tale, and it won't interest you."
+
+"Indeed it will--very, very much. Anything that has to do with you
+interests me. Tell me."
+
+Without intending to compliment Paul, the boy had paid him the most
+delicate compliment he could have done. Besides, Paul was now very much
+alone, and in his loneliness it was nice to have some one to speak to;
+so he told his eager listener the tragic circumstances that had cost his
+father his life. Hibbert scarcely spoke or moved all the time Paul was
+telling the story. He hung upon every word.
+
+"How noble of your father to jump overboard and save the man--the man
+Zuker," said the lad, when Paul had finished. "There's not many who
+would have risked their life to save an enemy. I think you said Zuker
+was an enemy."
+
+"Well, I don't know about an enemy. He seems to have been a wretched,
+contemptible spy; but what's wrong with you?" he suddenly exclaimed, as
+his eyes went to the boy's face. It was of an ashen pallor, and he was
+trembling in every limb.
+
+"Nothing wrong, except--except that I can't help thinking what a lot you
+and your mother must have suffered after your father's death."
+
+"I didn't suffer much, because I was too young to remember him. I was
+only a little more than a year old when it all happened. Still, I should
+so like to have known my father. They say he was very brave, and kind,
+and true, and one of the best captains in the Navy; and when sometimes I
+think of him, and what he might have been to me, I feel very bitter
+against the man for whom he gave his life. Then I battle against the
+feeling, and a better takes its place. I think to myself--What nobler
+death could a man die than in trying to save the life of one who had
+done him wrong."
+
+"Yes, Percival," said the boy, looking away; "it was a noble death--very
+noble--and your father must have been a noble man. What was it the spy
+did?"
+
+"Got into my father's cabin, and tried to get at his private
+despatches."
+
+"And where were they taking this man--the spy--when he jumped
+overboard?"
+
+"To Gibraltar, where he was to be tried by court-martial."
+
+"And after they'd tried him by court-martial?"
+
+"If the court-martial had found him guilty, they would have shot him."
+
+"Shot him?"
+
+"Yes, they showed no quarter at that time, I believe, to one who stole,
+or tried to steal, State secrets."
+
+"Oh, how horrible!" cried the boy, covering his face with his hands.
+
+"Don't you think that a man like that deserves to die, Hibbert?
+Remember, it isn't only one life he places in peril, but
+hundreds--thousands. He betrays a country."
+
+"Yes, yes, I dare say you are right, Percival--I'm certain you are
+right; but none the less, it sounds very terrible. Is it the same now as
+it was then--that no quarter would be given to a spy, I mean?"
+
+"I think so. But I'm sorry I told you the story," said Paul, looking at
+the boy apprehensively. His face was still deathly pale, while he
+trembled in every limb. "I didn't think it would cut you up so. Any one
+would think," he added, with a sad smile, "that it was your father's
+death I'd been talking about instead of mine."
+
+"Yes, my father"--and the boy gave a little, stifled laugh. "I--I've
+been putting myself in your place, you see. How was it the spy got
+away?"
+
+"He was tried by court-martial, but nothing could be proved against him,
+you see; for my father was the principal witness, and he was at the
+bottom of the sea."
+
+"At the bottom of the sea," repeated the boy, as a tear stole slowly
+down his cheek. "And you don't know what became of the spy?"
+
+"Oh, I suppose he returned to his own country after that," said Paul
+carelessly; for he did not want to tell Hibbert his suspicions that
+Zuker was still in England and not so far away. "But be off now, and
+have a good run in the open. You've had enough of my yarn, and will be
+dreaming about spies and drowning all night."
+
+Hibbert brushed the tear from his eye. It seemed as though his heart
+were too full for speech; for he went out without a word.
+
+"What a sensitive little chap he is!" thought Paul. "He was full to
+overflowing as I told him that story. I wonder what his people are
+like?"
+
+He got up as he spoke and went out. A throng of boys were playing in the
+grounds. Too absorbed in their games, they took no notice of Paul, for
+which he was devoutly thankful. He walked out of the grounds, along the
+road leading to St. Bede's. Scarcely noticing the direction in which he
+was travelling, he was rudely awakened from his reverie by the shout of
+"A Gargoyle--a Gargoyle!" And before he could move a step farther he
+found himself surrounded by a dozen boys, who danced wildly round him,
+shouting the name of contempt again and again, as though they were a
+band of savages, and had suddenly discovered a victim for the sacrifice.
+
+Paul saw at a glance that he had fallen into the hands of the enemy--in
+other words, into the hands of the rival school. There were senior boys
+and junior boys. Prominent amongst the latter he noticed Mellor, who was
+quite ecstatic with delight at having trapped a Gargoyle.
+
+"Why, hanged if it isn't the fellow who turned tail and ran!" cried one
+of the seniors.
+
+"Yes, Percival. Didn't you see that?" said Mellor.
+
+"So it is," came in a chorus.
+
+"The noble champion of the Gargoyles--ho, ho!" cried the senior.
+
+"Ho, ho!" came in a chorus, and they commenced dancing round Paul, in a
+wilder, madder fashion than before. "Ho, ho, ho! The noble champion of
+the Gargoyles."
+
+"'And he bared his big right arm,'" cried one, when this chorus had
+ceased.
+
+"And cried aloud, 'Come on,'" shouted another.
+
+    "Come one, come all, this rock shall fly
+    From its firm base sooner than I!"
+
+shouted a third.
+
+A scream of laughter greeted this sally, and then the dancing was
+resumed to the old chorus.
+
+"Ho, ho! ho! The noble champion of the Gargoyles!"
+
+Paul stood motionless as a statue and as white as one in the midst of
+the jeering, mocking throng. He made no answer to the jibes, but waited
+until they had exhausted themselves. It was some time before that
+happened. At length the cries grew feebler, the wild dancing slackened.
+
+"Well, have you nearly finished?" Paul asked.
+
+"Listen. The noble champion of the Gargoyles is speaking. He's got a
+tongue," exclaimed the senior who had first spoken.
+
+"And legs as well," said a second.
+
+"And doesn't he know how to use them!" added a third--an observation
+which drew out another shriek of laughter. From white Paul turned
+scarlet.
+
+To keep silent under provocation, more especially provocation that is
+undeserved, is one of the hardest lessons that can be learned, boys and
+girls. Paul was only a boy, with a boy's impulses, passions, and
+feelings. But some time was to pass before he was to learn the great
+lesson of how to keep these passions under perfect control--and many
+things were to happen in the interval--but he had begun the task. Rough
+and bitter though the schooling was, in no better way could the lesson
+have been taught than in that school of adversity through which he was
+now passing.
+
+"When you've quite finished," said Paul, as they once more came to a
+pause, "I would like to go on my way."
+
+"Where? To the sand-pit?" came a voice.
+
+"No; he'd rather keep away from that. He'll always give that a pretty
+wide berth," some one answered.
+
+"Why not take him there? He doesn't know what a nice place it is for a
+picnic."
+
+The suggestion was hailed with delight.
+
+"The sand-pit--the sand-pit!" was the cry.
+
+Immediately a rush was made for Paul. It was more than flesh and blood
+could stand. Paul had kept wonderfully calm and cool up to the moment;
+but directly they tried to put hands upon him he struck out right and
+left. With so much vigour did he strike that he might have made his way
+through the howling, struggling pack, but just at the moment he had got
+himself free, Mellor, who was one of those who had been knocked to the
+ground, caught him by the legs and brought him with a crash to the
+ground.
+
+"On him--on him!" was the cry.
+
+"Back--back! Cowards all!"
+
+At the instant they were about to seize Paul a figure dashed into their
+midst, scattering the struggling pack to right and left.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+WYNDHAM AGAIN TO THE RESCUE
+
+
+"Back, back! Twelve to one--cowards, cowards!"
+
+The Bedes fell back as the youth fell among them, and cleared a passage
+to Paul. Paul, momentarily stunned by his fall, breathed freely again,
+and leapt to his feet.
+
+"Why, it's Percival!" said the new-comer. "Are you hurt?"
+
+Paul could scarcely believe his eyes, as he found himself again
+confronting Gilbert Wyndham.
+
+"No, thanks," he answered stiffly.
+
+He would rather have been indebted to any one than to Wyndham. He had
+wished to clear off the debt between them, but instead of that he found
+himself more indebted to him than ever. For a second time he had been
+placed under an obligation to him.
+
+"You don't see who it is, Wyndham," came a voice from the ranks of the
+Bedes, disappointed of their prey. "It's a Gargoyle--the wretched
+Gargoyle who showed such a clean pair of heels at the sand-pit."
+
+"Yes, I do see who it is; but, whoever he is, that's no reason why a
+dozen of you should set on him at once. That's not fair play, Murrell."
+
+"Half a dozen of 'em set on me," came the voice of Mellor. "What's good
+enough for the Gargoyles ought to be good enough for us."
+
+"That's just where you're wrong, Mellor," answered Wyndham coolly.
+"What's good enough for a Gargoyle isn't good enough for a Bede--is it,
+Bedes?"
+
+A murmur of ready assent went up at this appeal--from all except Mellor.
+
+"You see, you are half a Gargoyle yourself, Mellor, or you would have
+known that. You belong to the amphibia at present. When you've grown out
+of that you will know better, won't he, Bedes?"
+
+A laugh went up--from all except Mellor. The storm which had looked
+threatening began to clear under the ready tact of Wyndham. Still, the
+boys did not like the idea of letting Paul go scot-free.
+
+"Yes, you'll know better than that by-and-by, Mellor," said the youth
+addressed as Murrell. "Your education was neglected as a Gargoyle.
+You'll improve as you go along. But, I say, Wyndham, what are you going
+to do with the specimen you've got? You can't stick it in the museum,
+you know. So turn it over to us again. We won't hurt it. We'll only give
+it a run to the sand-pit, and a roll down. It will do it good. Eating
+sand is better than eating dirt."
+
+"Yes, hand him over," came in a chorus.
+
+"No," came the decided answer, as Wyndham twined his arm in Paul's. "The
+Gargoyle is my property."
+
+"What are you going to do with him?" demanded Murrell.
+
+"I want to have a little quiet talk with him, that's all."
+
+What could Wyndham want with a little quiet talk with a Gargoyle? It
+could only be for one purpose--to gather information which might be of
+use to the Bedes in any future campaign against Garside. So the boys
+reluctantly turned away, and left Wyndham and Paul together.
+
+"Why have you come a second time to my help?" came in a choking voice
+from Paul when they were alone.
+
+"Really, I don't know," smiled Wyndham. "Does it matter much? Do you
+mind?"
+
+"Mind! After what happened at the sand-pit the other day. Mind! I would
+rather have been under an obligation to any one than you."
+
+"Do you mean it?" asked Wyndham, now quite grave.
+
+"Of course I do. I was never more in earnest in my life. I had hoped to
+clear off the debt that was between us, and now you have placed me in
+your debt a second time."
+
+"If you mean by debt that little service I was only too pleased to do
+for you at the well, I thought it was quite cleared off."
+
+"How?"
+
+"By the service you did for me at the sand-pit the other day."
+
+"You are mocking me?"
+
+"I was never more serious in my life," answered Wyndham, using Paul's
+words. "When I saw you standing before me at the sand-pit--saw who your
+fellows had selected as their champion--I was staggered. You were the
+last in the world I dreamt of seeing. I could see that you were
+bewildered, but not more than I was. I knew not how to act. Fight you?
+Impossible! Go away--turn on my heel? That seemed impossible, too. I
+should be stamped as a coward. I could not explain, because that would
+have meant giving away your secret. Then, as the thoughts flashed
+through my mind, you solved the riddle. You had the courage to do what I
+couldn't--you walked away."
+
+Paul regarded Wyndham in wonder. The thoughts which had passed through
+Wyndham's mind were almost the same thoughts that had passed through
+his. The same struggle had gone on in both. For the moment the hard,
+bitter feeling that had stirred within him softened, and he was on the
+point of holding out his hand, when he remembered that it meant clasping
+the one that had so severely punished Stanley.
+
+"I walked away," he echoed; "and then?"
+
+"Why, then," smiled Wyndham, "things couldn't have happened better. Some
+bounder amongst your mob was anxious to bound into your shoes. He jumped
+up in an awfully excited way, muttering something about 'the honour of
+the Form.' He insisted on fighting me, and I didn't mind in the least.
+You know how it ended."
+
+"Too well--too well," repeated Paul sadly. "Better far had I stayed.
+That was my friend you punished so."
+
+"Your friend!"
+
+"The best friend I had at Garside. We are friends no longer. Instead of
+that, he looks upon me now as his worst enemy, while all the school look
+upon me as a cur. But it isn't that I mind so much, it's losing the
+friendship of Stanley Moncrief."
+
+"I'm sorry. I did not dream things were as bad as that. Who is this
+Stanley Moncrief?"
+
+"He is the son of that gentleman for whom I took the letter to Redmead
+on the night you met me, and did me so great a service."
+
+"If it was a service, I've undone it now," answered Wyndham sorrowfully.
+"I could not have done a worse one than I did you at the sand-pit. Why
+couldn't you explain to your friend?"
+
+"I've tried to, but he won't listen. He is smarting under his defeat,
+and I don't wonder at it."
+
+There was silence between them for a minute or two, then Wyndham
+exclaimed:
+
+"Are you going back to Garside?"
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+"Because I am going with you. Moncrief won't listen to you. He will
+listen to me."
+
+"No, no!" said Paul firmly. "It is very kind of you, but I would rather
+not. If Stanley Moncrief and I are ever to be friends again, he will
+have to find out for himself that I'm not the cur he thinks me. I've
+tried to explain, but he would not hear. I shall never try again, unless
+he comes round and asks me."
+
+"I think you are right," said Wyndham, after a pause. "None the less,
+I'm sorry--deeply sorry--that you should have lost your friend through
+me."
+
+"Oh, things will work round presently," said Paul lightly. "I suppose,
+after that affair at the sand-pit, you were quite the hero of your
+school?"
+
+"I don't know about hero. They made a lot of fuss over me, because, as
+you know well enough, there's no love lost between us and Garside. But
+if anybody deserves to be the hero of a school, it is you."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+"It is easy enough to flow with the tide, but awfully hard to struggle
+against it. That's what you're doing just now, Percival."
+
+He walked with Percival for some distance on the road to Garside, and
+when they separated they shook hands, unaware of the fact that they had
+been seen by one of the Third Form. After Wyndham's explanation, how was
+it possible for Paul to refuse the hand held out to him?
+
+Now, Stanley Moncrief was at this time in his dormitory, very miserable.
+He had been so, in fact, ever since he had broken with Paul. He had a
+real affection for him. He had loved him as he might have loved a
+brother; then, after his defeat at the sand-pit, he felt that there was
+only one thing to be done, and that was to--hate him. So he had broken
+off the friendship, and rushed into the arms of the two whom he
+disliked--Newall and Parfitt.
+
+But when Stanley began to reflect a little more deeply, he began to see
+that he could not altogether shake off the old link that bound him to
+Paul. He had always been comfortable and at ease with him--could sit
+with him, as it were, in his shirt-sleeves and slippers. He had felt at
+home with him from the first day they met. He could not feel the same
+with Newall or Parfitt, try as he might. He seemed to be ever acting a
+part when he was with them, and they seemed to be doing the same when
+they were with him. For instance, he would have liked to have read the
+letter Paul sent him by Waterman; but the eyes of Newall were upon him,
+so he tore it up in bravado, and scattered the fragments in the way
+already described. It was not Stanley's real self did that--he was
+acting a part.
+
+Again, when Paul entered the common room, looking so sad and miserable,
+Stanley's heart prompted him to stay and speak to his old friend.
+Perhaps he might have done so had he been alone; but he felt that the
+eyes of the others were upon him, especially Newall's. Something was
+expected of him. He was to give the lead; so he gave the lead, by
+walking from the room, and the rest followed him, with the solitary
+exception of Waterman.
+
+Then he joined in the laughter and the jeers of his new-found friends
+when they got outside, all at the expense of Paul. Again, Stanley was
+acting a part. At heart he felt miserable. The sadness of Paul's face
+haunted him, and as soon as he could he escaped from his companions to
+the solitude of the dormitory.
+
+He had been puzzled all along how it was Paul had acted in such a
+cowardly way at the sand-pit. He knew that he had no love for fighting;
+but once having taken up the gage of battle, he was not one to shrink
+from it. What was it his father had said? That no braver youth could be
+found than Paul Percival. His uncle had the same opinion, and they were
+not the men to make mistakes. Had his nature suddenly altered, or what
+had happened? More and more he regretted that he had not opened Paul's
+letter. It might have given him the answer to the riddle.
+
+So Stanley sat on the side of the bed for a long time, very miserable.
+Indeed, I very much question whether of the two he was not the more
+miserable. It is true that nearly all Paul's companions dropped away
+from him; but perhaps it was better to lose companions than to have
+those you did not really want.
+
+"It is all a hideous mistake. I'll go and make it up with Paul," he
+thought.
+
+As he was thus thinking, the door opened, and his cousin entered.
+
+"Well, Harry, what do you want?" he asked gruffly, as though resenting
+the intrusion.
+
+Harry eyed him for a moment without answering.
+
+"Can't you speak? Have you lost your tongue, Harry?"
+
+"I saw Percival a little while ago, Stan."
+
+"Well--what of it? What's that to me?"
+
+"Nothing much, I suppose."
+
+"Where did you see him?"
+
+"Not very far from here. He was with that fellow--that beastly
+Beetle--who fought with you."
+
+"What were they doing?"
+
+"Oh, they were walking and talking together--very chummy. When they
+left, they shook hands--almost kissed each other."
+
+"Shook hands! You are sure?"
+
+"Positive."
+
+"Run off, youngster. Leave me," cried Stanley hoarsely.
+
+Harry ran out, wondering at the effect his information had had upon his
+cousin.
+
+"Shook hands with him!" echoed Stanley, as he sank with a groan upon the
+bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE CHASM WIDENS
+
+
+Unintentionally Harry Moncrief had made deeper the chasm between the
+one-time friends. It was quite evident to Stanley, from Harry's
+description of what he had witnessed, that there was an understanding
+between Paul and Wyndham, otherwise they would never have shaken hands
+with each other. The fact that Paul could take the hand of one who had
+thrashed him set the blood tingling in Stanley's veins. That showed
+plainly enough that Paul was on friendly terms with his enemy--with an
+enemy of the school. What was to be done?
+
+Stanley got up and paced the room. The softer feelings that had been
+working in his breast vanished.
+
+"I will never speak to Paul Percival again--never!" he said fiercely.
+"Perhaps the whole of that business at the sand-pit was a trap of his
+into which I was fool enough to fall. How else could they have shaken
+hands together?"
+
+It seemed to him, thus blinded by suspicion against his friend, that it
+could only have one meaning--they were gloating over his defeat.
+
+Meanwhile, Harry Moncrief had no sooner descended the stairs leading
+from the dormitories than he came sharply into contact with Plunger, who
+was hurrying along the corridor as though he were rushing full speed up
+a cricket pitch to prevent himself from being run out.
+
+"Hallo, Harry, just the fellow I was looking for!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Are you, Freddy? Then I wish you'd look for me with your eyes instead
+of your elbows," answered Harry, rubbing his ribs, which were aching
+from the blow they had just received from the boniest part of Plunger's
+elbows. "What is it?"
+
+"You know that twaddle in the _Gargoyle Record_ about the poet being
+stuck for a rhyme to 'hunger'?"
+
+"Yes," laughed Harry, as he recalled Plunger's confusion when the
+paragraph was read aloud in the common room.
+
+"What are you grinning at? You don't mean to say you saw anything funny
+in it?"
+
+"Oh, no; but you're bound to laugh when the other fellows laugh, you
+know. It's like the measles--catching. I'm all right now. Go on. You
+were saying----"
+
+"I believe that paragraph was sent in to the editor--Dick Jessel, you
+know--by Baldry."
+
+"Oh! What makes you think that?"
+
+"He's been worrying about rhymes ever since that paragraph was read
+out--that's why. You see, he sent in the paragraph so that he might have
+another shot at me with the answer. Baldry's a deep 'un."
+
+"But why should he send in paragraphs to the _Record_ against you?"
+
+"Well, I make fun of his name, so he's trying to score off me in return.
+But he can't do it, for 'Plunger's' no sort of rhyme to 'hunger.' And
+there's another thing I've got to tell you in confidence, Harry. I
+believe that cartoon of me on the Forum window was Baldry's work."
+
+"Oh!" answered Harry drily. "What makes you think that?"
+
+"Baldry once said that if the glue business failed"--Plunger's father
+was a glue and size merchant in a large way of business--"I could always
+pick up my living as an artist's model."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Well, he had the cheek to tell me I had a funny sort of face. And
+Baldry's smart with the pencil, you know; so, putting this and that
+together, I believe Master Baldry not only sent in that paragraph to the
+_Record_, but put my face on the Forum window."
+
+"Very wrong of him, Freddy," said Harry sympathetically. "What are you
+going to do with him?"
+
+"Well, I've got a lovely old basket, once the property of a dear and
+highly-respected friend of yours, Mrs. Trounce, and this basket is
+filled with a lovely collection of feathers. Along with these feathers
+will be mixed a little glutinous substance, as the chemistry master
+calls it, which I brought last term from the pater's works. This basket
+will be fixed directly over the Forum door, by means of a string, the
+end of which will be held by some one hidden in a tree at the back of
+the Forum. That some one in the tree will be you. Are you listening?"
+
+"Ra-ther. That some one in the tree will be me. Go on."
+
+"My dearly beloved and much respected chum, Sammy Baldry, will receive a
+message calling him to the Forum at half-past six. Someone will be at
+the side of the Forum, so as to know the exact moment Baldry appears on
+the scene. Directly he nears the door that some one will whistle. That
+will be a signal to you up in the tree. Baldhead will open the door.
+Then you'll pull the string. Over will go the basket, and down will come
+the pretty feathers over Baldhead. In the information Baldry was good
+enough to supply to the _Gargoyle Record_, affectionate inquiries were
+made, you remember, after the Missing Link, last seen in all his native
+beauty in the Forum. What price for Baldry, eh? When he gets these
+feathers on him he'll be a puzzle. No one will be able to tell which
+kingdom he belongs to--animal, vegetable, or mineral."
+
+And Plunger chuckled so that it seemed as though he would never be able
+to stop himself. Just to keep him company, Harry chuckled too.
+
+"Splendid little joke, isn't it, Harry?"
+
+"Splendid."
+
+"I told you what fun you'd have when you got to Garside. Better than
+Gaffer Quelch's, eh? Things were awfully slow there, weren't they,
+Harry?"
+
+"Awfully."
+
+But, so far as fun was concerned, Harry couldn't see that he had had
+very much of it, except at his own expense. Plunger had, in fact, made
+him his butt, and now he wished to score off Baldry through his
+instrumentality.
+
+"I didn't quite understand you, Freddy," said Harry presently, as
+Plunger went on chuckling. "Who do you say was to be up in the tree at
+the back of the Forum and pull the string?"
+
+"You, Harry. I'm giving you the post of honour, because you deserve it.
+Baldry has poked fun at you a lot. Now it's your turn, old fellow."
+
+"It's very kind of you, Freddy--it really is. I don't know how to be
+grateful enough. I'm to be in the tree, you say: but where will you be?"
+
+"Oh, I'll do the whistling."
+
+"The whistling?"
+
+"Yes, to let you know up in the tree when Baldry comes along. Then,
+directly Baldry opens the door, you pull the string, and--there you are.
+Baldry in full plumage. It's all clear enough, isn't it?"
+
+"All clear enough;--but----"
+
+"But what? You're not going to cry off, are you?"
+
+"I'm not going to cry off; but suppose we change places."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"You go up the tree and do the pulling, and let me do the whistling."
+
+"Why, it'll be ever so much more fun to pull the string. I want to give
+you the best position, you see."
+
+"I know you do, Freddy. I know your good nature; but I'm not going to
+let you make the sacrifice. I'll do the whistling."
+
+"Very well, if you wish it. I don't mind which I do," said Plunger, in a
+lofty tone. "Only don't make a mess of it."
+
+"Oh, my part's so simple, I can't make a mess of it. Mind you don't make
+a mess of yours, Freddy."
+
+Now Harry decided, immediately on quitting Plunger, that he would
+acquaint Baldry with the joke that Plunger intended to play upon him. It
+was he who had drawn that cartoon in the Forum that had stirred Plunger
+to wrath, and Harry came to the conclusion that it was not right that
+Baldry should suffer for him. Besides, as Plunger had so often scored
+over him, he thought it only right that he should begin to equalize
+matters. So he hunted up Baldry, and informed him of Plunger's kind
+intentions towards him.
+
+"Oh," said Baldry, when Harry had ended, "that's Plunger's little game,
+is it? I thought he was getting a bit cross, but I didn't think he
+meant showing his teeth. The beauty of it is, I hadn't anything to do
+with that portrait of him on the Forum window. I know no more about it
+than you do."
+
+"Than I do!" echoed Harry, smiling to himself.
+
+"He made a better guess when he told you that I inspired those
+paragraphs in the _Record_. I just gave a hint to Jowett. Jowett passed
+it on to Jessel, and Jessel put in the smart bits that touched Plunger
+on the raw. Plunger's all right when he's going for other people, but he
+doesn't like it when others go for him."
+
+Harry quite sympathized with this view of things.
+
+"There's my name," went on Baldry. "I can't help my name. I didn't
+christen myself, and was never asked whether I liked it or not. That's
+the worst of names. You never are consulted. It's all done for you by
+your ancestors, and your godfathers and godmothers--and people of that
+sort. I don't know why it should be, but it is; and there you are--fixed
+up for life with a name, unless you happen to be a girl, and get
+married, then you drop it for another, but it may be ever so much worse
+than the one you've got. Now, what I say is this--Baldry isn't such a
+bad name, as names go, is it, Moncrief?"
+
+"Better than Plunger, any day," remarked Harry, in his most sympathetic
+manner.
+
+"Better than Plunger, as you say, Moncrief. Where Plunger's ancestors
+picked up a name like that, goodness only knows. It must have come out
+of the Ark. And yet he's always calling me 'Baldhead,' 'Bladder of
+Lard,' 'The Lost Hair,' and telling me to go in for hair-restorer,
+Tatcho, and making feeble jokes of that sort. But I think I went one
+better when I got that paragraph in the _Record_, eh?"
+
+"Yes, Baldry you scored there; but what we've got to think about is, how
+to prevent Plunger from scoring back. Some one will have to go to the
+Forum in answer to his invitation, when it comes. It won't matter who,
+because Plunger won't be able to see; he'll be up in the tree, waiting
+for my whistle. So who's to be the victim?"
+
+Baldry became thoughtful. He ran through the list of his acquaintances
+whom he thought most deserving of the honour that Plunger proposed to
+bestow on him. He thought of one or two in his form who might have been
+available for his purpose, but it was just possible that they were in
+the confidence of Plunger. So he turned from his own form to the
+Fifth--"the bounders of the Fifth."
+
+"I've got it," he suddenly exclaimed. "Percival!"
+
+"Percival!" echoed Harry.
+
+"Yes; that's the ticket; the very thing--Percival. If it comes off all
+right, it'll be a big hit. We shall be covered with glory, and he'll be
+covered with feathers--ha, ha! It couldn't be better. Do you see how it
+fits in? A nice little present of feathers for the fellow who showed the
+white feather at the sand-pit. Isn't it splendid, Moncrief?"
+
+Harry was silent. Percival had been far from his thoughts. He never
+imagined that Baldry would suggest Percival. For the moment his mind
+went back to that night when Paul came to Redmead. Once again he could
+hear the low, earnest tones of his father--"Many thanks for the great
+service you have done, Paul. You have not only done a great service for
+me and my brother, but for your country."
+
+"Well, Moncrief; why don't you answer?" came the voice of Baldry. "It's
+the finest idea that has come to me for a long time. Feathers for the
+fellow who showed the white feather."
+
+At the words, the image of his father faded from Harry's mind. He could
+no longer hear the echo of his words. He only saw his cousin's bleeding
+face as he rose vanquished from the sand-pit; and, side by side with
+that picture, he saw Percival walking and talking, and shaking hands
+with "the wretched Beetle--Wyndham," as he had seen him walking and
+talking and shaking hands with him that afternoon.
+
+"A fine idea--splendid!" he cried. "Nothing could be better. Let
+Percival be the victim."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+HATCHING A PLOT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT
+
+
+"Nothing could be better. Let Percival be the victim!"
+
+Scarcely were the words out of Harry's lips than Viner come up to Baldry
+with the notice he was expecting. It was a hectograph copy, announcing
+that a meeting of the more important members of the Third Form would be
+held in the Forum at half-past six prompt to consider a matter of
+pressing importance.
+
+Baldry thanked Viner. Viner smirked and retreated.
+
+"Viner's in the know, that's certain," said Baldry, when he was out of
+earshot. "Viner's a crawler."
+
+Harry had no great reason to like Viner. It was he who had gone behind
+him on the day that he had entered Garside, so that Newall might push
+him over his back. From that incident the quarrel had arisen between
+Stanley and Newall, and other troubles had followed in its train.
+
+"You're right there; but now what's to be done?"
+
+"Oh, that's easy enough. We've only got to rub out 'Third Form' and put
+in 'Fifth,' and then send it on to Percival; and there you are."
+
+With the aid of a knife and some hectograph ink this alteration was soon
+made. The next question was how to get it to Percival without arousing
+suspicion. As they were considering this point Baldry caught sight of
+Hibbert crossing the ground.
+
+"There's our messenger," he exclaimed. Then he shouted, "Hibbert,
+Hibbert!"
+
+Hibbert looked round. Baldry beckoned him, and he came to where they
+were standing.
+
+"I want you to give this note to Percival. If he asks you where it came
+from, tell him he will see inside. Then come away. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes," said Hibbert, looking suspiciously at the note.
+
+"Well, run along. It won't bite you."
+
+Hibbert went off reluctantly with the note. It seemed now as though he
+were as anxious as the rest to avoid Paul. At any rate, he kept out of
+his way, but he could not very well refuse Baldry's request.
+
+He found Paul by himself, as usual, in the writing-room. He had
+commenced work in downright earnest on the prize essay.
+
+"Hallo, Hibbert, is that you?" he asked, looking up as the boy entered.
+"What have you got there?"
+
+Hibbert handed him the notice without a word, but did not beat a retreat
+according to the instructions he had received.
+
+"Another meeting of the Fifth," Paul said, as much to himself as to
+Hibbert, when he had glanced at the note. "I wonder they trouble to send
+to me. It is too great an honour!"
+
+No suspicion as to the genuineness of the note crossed his mind. It was
+quite usual for Sedgefield, who acted as hon. sec. for the Fifth, to
+send out his notices with a messenger from the junior forms.
+
+"What's too great an honour, may I ask?" said Hibbert timidly.
+
+Paul explained to him the contents of the notice.
+
+"It's to call me over the coals again, I expect. Shall I go or shan't
+I?" he asked himself. Then, turning smilingly to the boy: "What would
+you do if you were in my place, Hibbert?"
+
+"Stay away," said the boy promptly.
+
+"And improve my reputation for courage--eh? Why would you stay away?"
+
+Having so far exceeded his instructions, Hibbert thought he might as
+well go a little further.
+
+"Because I don't believe that the Fifth had anything to do with that
+notice. It came from Baldry and Moncrief minor. I believe it's a trick."
+
+Paul, beginning to smell a rat, examined the notice with closer
+attention, and soon detected the erasion where "Fifth" had been
+substituted for "Third Form."
+
+"Thanks, Hibbert. I don't know why you should, but you're always doing
+me a good turn."
+
+"Not half the good turns you've done me," said the boy earnestly, as he
+went out.
+
+"What's in the wind?" Paul asked himself, when he was alone. "Bitter as
+Stanley is against me, he can't have set on his cousin to hoax and poke
+fun at me. Surely not?"
+
+What was it, then? He could not guess; but it seemed to him that he must
+have sunk very low indeed in the eyes of the school when he had become a
+target for the junior forms.
+
+"I must put my foot down on that nonsense," he said to himself, as he
+paced to and fro the room.
+
+At first he thought of making straight for Baldry and Moncrief minor,
+and demanding what it meant; but on second thoughts he decided against
+that course, because it would mean mischief to Hibbert. His life at the
+school would be made more miserable than it was.
+
+"The best thing after all will be to face it--to accept the invitation
+of Masters Moncrief and Baldry to the Forum to-night. I run the risk of
+being laughed at, I know, but I'm getting fairly used to that. And it's
+just possible I may be able to turn the tables."
+
+Having come to this decision, Paul did the wisest thing possible under
+the circumstances--dismissed the matter from his mind, and went on with
+his work.
+
+Now it so happened that a meeting of the Fifth had really been called
+for that evening in the Forum, and still stranger to relate, for the
+express purpose of discussing Paul. The information that he had been
+seen in the company of Wyndham, and had actually shaken hands with him,
+had quickly spread, and the meeting of the Fifth had been called for the
+express purpose of considering this further development in the feud
+between the Beetles and the Gargoyles. No notice of this meeting had,
+however, been sent to Paul.
+
+So it was that about the time Paul was getting ready to go to the Forum,
+little suspecting the proposed meeting, Newall had already started for
+it, just as ignorant of the little plot that had been hatched by certain
+members of the Third. Leveson had had some lines which had kept him late
+in the class-room, and Newall had taken his place in getting the shed
+ready for the meeting. Thus it happened he was in advance of the rest.
+
+It was quite dark as Newall made his way to the shed. Harry Moncrief was
+hiding at the side, with his whistle between his teeth. The figure
+coming towards the shed in the darkness he took to be the figure of
+Paul.
+
+"He's up to time," he chuckled to himself. "He's fallen into the trap
+beautifully."
+
+Newall reached the door of the shed, opened it, and passed in.
+Simultaneously Harry blew the whistle. At the signal, Plunger pulled the
+string which communicated with the basket immediately over the doorway,
+sending its contents showering down on the head of Newall.
+
+Newall gasped and staggered in the darkness, striking out wildly with
+his arms. He had a confused idea that some enormous bird of prey had
+suddenly swooped down from the roof, and was flapping its wings over his
+head.
+
+"Ooshter--ooshter! Get out of it!" he gasped, as he reeled about and
+struck out wildly at his imaginary foe.
+
+Meantime Plunger had slid down quickly from the tree, and, accompanied
+by Viner and Bember, who had been awaiting the signal in the rear,
+rushed round to the front. The three held on to the door, so as to keep
+their victim floundering about in the darkness till they saw fit to
+release him.
+
+"Splendid; couldn't be better," chuckled Plunger. "My, isn't old Baldy
+carrying on?"
+
+His companions could not answer. They were doing their best to smother
+their laughter.
+
+"My, he's carrying on awful!" went on Plunger. "Breaking up the happy
+home. Didn't think Baldy had so much spring in him. Seems to be all over
+the shop. Do you hear him, Moncrief? Where is Moncrief?"
+
+Moncrief had made himself scarce. He had retreated to a safe distance,
+where Baldry was awaiting him. By the time he reached him, he, too, was
+exploding with laughter.
+
+"Well, what's happened?" asked Baldry.
+
+"Oh, don't ask me. It's too funny for words."
+
+"Percival's inside?"
+
+"Percival's inside, ramping about like mad, and Plunger, Viner, and
+Bember are holding the door outside like grim death, and laughing like
+hyenas over 'old Baldy.' Good, isn't it?"
+
+On that Baldry was seized with a fit of laughter too.
+
+"Good? The best joke we've had at Garside for a long time," answered
+Baldry, between gasps. "My, what will happen when they find out their
+mistake? What will they say when they see Percival stagger out instead
+of 'old Baldy?'"
+
+"Plunger will stagger the most of the two, I reckon," laughed Harry.
+
+"I just reckon he will."
+
+"And I reckon also that he'd better keep out of the reach of Percival."
+
+"Percival!" echoed Baldry contemptuously. "Percival may ramp a good
+deal, but he's not likely to do much, I'm thinking, after his exhibition
+at the sand-pits. Percival is----"
+
+"I beg pardon, but did I hear some one mention my name?" came a quiet
+voice in the rear of Baldry.
+
+Both boys turned promptly round at the voice. To their amazement
+Percival was standing before them.
+
+"Per--Percival!" exclaimed Harry.
+
+"Per--Percival!" echoed Baldry.
+
+"I happened to be strolling this way, and thought I heard my name; but
+perhaps I was mistaken."
+
+The boys could not speak. They could only stare with open mouths at
+Percival. It was a shadowy figure that stood before them in the
+darkness. Was it indeed Percival, or was it his ghost?
+
+"Y--y--yes; we--we--were speaking about you," stammered Baldry, at
+length. "We--were--just wondering--how you were getting on."
+
+"It's very kind of you to think of me," said Paul, with a quiet smile.
+
+Paul, quite ignorant of what had transpired in the shed, thought for the
+moment whether he had better tackle Baldry and Moncrief minor then and
+there as to their motive in desiring him to go to the shed, but on
+second thoughts he decided to find out for himself; so he passed on.
+
+"Pinch me--punch me--kick me", exclaimed Harry. "Am I awake or am I
+dreaming, Baldry?"
+
+"It was Percival right enough."
+
+"Then who--who's--in--the shed?" gasped Harry, a cold perspiration
+coming to his brow.
+
+"What an idiotic question to ask me," retorted Baldry indignantly. "You
+ought to know best. Are you sure there's anybody in the shed at all?"
+
+"I'm sure of that. And--and--I could have sworn it was Percival."
+
+"You've made a nice mess of it."
+
+"Well, if I have made a mess of it, I've kept you out of it," retorted
+Harry, beginning to feel sore at the tone taken by Baldry. "After all,
+Plunger and the others will be taken in a good deal more than we've
+been, remember. He still thinks it's you he's got a prisoner."
+
+"Ah, yes, so he does," exclaimed Baldry, breaking into laughter again;
+"I'd forgotten that. When that door opens it'll be one of the best
+little surprise packets Plunger's ever had in his life. Hallo, here
+comes a lot of the Fifth fellows, and they seem making for the shed,
+too!"
+
+The shadowy figures of Arbery, Parfitt, Hasluck, and a couple of others
+passed within a short distance of where the two boys were standing. They
+were conversing eagerly together.
+
+There was silence between them for a moment; then an unearthly yell rose
+on the air.
+
+"Goodness! What was that? Enough to lift your hair off, wasn't it,
+Moncrief?"
+
+Harry did not answer. He was trying to pierce the darkness to see what
+was happening in the direction of the shed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE LAST BOND OF FRIENDSHIP
+
+
+While Harry had been explaining to Baldry what had happened at the shed,
+Plunger and his two companions held fast to the door, under the
+impression that Baldry was within. Plunger was in a high state of glee
+at the capture he had made, and as soon as Harry had gone commenced
+crowing loudly, explaining as he did so that "as old Baldy seemed to be
+going in for dancing, he must give him a tune to dance to."
+
+"Put the soft pedal on for a bit, Freddy," said Viner. "He's saying
+things to himself. Let's listen."
+
+Plunger, who had nearly crowed himself hoarse, kept silent for a moment,
+as a smothered voice from within travelled through the door.
+
+"Open the door--open the door!"
+
+"Keep your wool on, Baldy!" retorted Plunger, in his most provoking
+tones. "Drop the clog-dancing, and give us a song; it's getting
+monotonous. What's the best rhyme for Baldy? How're the birds, beasts,
+and fishes getting on? What's the kingdom you've sprinted to--animal,
+vegetable, or mineral? Any more paragraphs for Jessell? We'll take them
+along."
+
+"Open the door! I'll--I'll smash you when I get out of this!" came the
+voice from within.
+
+"Smash us? Oh, oh, Baldy!" commenced Plunger, but Viner stopped him.
+
+"Quiet, Freddy. Listen a moment. It doesn't sound to me like Baldy."
+
+"Will you open that door? I'll pay you out for this! I'll--I'll----"
+
+"Why--why, it's Newall!" whispered Plunger, aghast. "How's he got in
+there?"
+
+"Don't ask me," said Viner, turning cold, for he had always been on
+particularly good terms with Newall.
+
+"Can there be two of them in there, do you think?" suggested Bember.
+
+"Ah, I see it all!" said Plunger, a light beginning to dawn upon him.
+"Moncrief minor's let us in for this. That's the reason he's bolted."
+
+"Seems to me we'd better bolt too," exclaimed Bember. "There won't be
+much left of you, Freddy, if Newall gets hold of you."
+
+"What price you? You're just as much in it as I am."
+
+But Bember's advice commended itself to Plunger and Viner, neither of
+whom was desirous of meeting their captive when he was released, so,
+suddenly letting go their hold of the door, they bolted with all speed
+in the direction of the school.
+
+Newall continued shouting his threats at the top of his voice for a few
+moments before he discovered that no one was on guard outside; then he
+flung open the door, and dashed through with a yell, just as Arbery,
+Parfitt, Hasluck, and others of the Fifth had started for the shed. They
+came to a sudden stop when they saw the extraordinary figure that rushed
+towards them in the darkness. And well they might, for Newall, smothered
+in feathers from head to foot, presented one of the most extraordinary
+sights it is possible to imagine.
+
+"What is it?" asked Arbery, in an awestruck whisper.
+
+"Ask me another. It--it looks like----"
+
+But before Hasluck could explain what it looked like Newall had dashed
+up to them.
+
+"Newall!" came the astonished cry.
+
+"Who--who's been doing this?" he cried, glaring fiercely round on his
+companions.
+
+"Doing what?" asked Hasluck.
+
+"Can't you see? Nearly smothering me with feathers, and fastening me in
+the Forum."
+
+"We know nothing of it. We were just coming to the meeting when we heard
+the shouting," answered Parfitt, in an injured tone. "Is it likely we'd
+play a trick on you, Newall?"
+
+"It sounded like some of those imps of the Third. They were talking to
+me as if I were Baldry."
+
+At this moment Paul joined the group, wondering what was the matter.
+Directly Newall caught sight of him, he turned towards him fiercely:
+
+"Do you know anything of this? Had you a hand in it?"
+
+"I don't know what you are talking about," answered Paul coldly.
+
+"Of course not. You never do when it suits your purpose. Can we believe
+anything from the fellow who shakes hands with a Beetle--with the enemy
+of Garside?" came the sneering answer.
+
+Paul staggered back as though he had been struck. Some one had seen him
+shake hands with Wyndham then, and, without knowing the facts, his
+enemies were already putting the worst possible construction on it.
+Stanley had joined the group as Newall was speaking.
+
+"If you can't believe anything I say, what's the use of asking me
+questions? It seems to me a waste of breath."
+
+"Did you or did you not set those fellows on to keep me in the shed?"
+demanded Newall hotly.
+
+"I'm not going to answer you," said Paul firmly.
+
+"Then perhaps you'll answer me," said Stanley, stepping forward to
+Newall's side, pale to the lips.
+
+Paul had not noticed his arrival, and did not know that he was present
+till he heard his voice. It stirred the old feeling of love and
+friendship within him, though there was little that was friendly in its
+tone.
+
+"Answer you what, Stan?" asked Paul, in softer tones.
+
+Stanley knew little of the grounds of the present dispute, but he
+guessed that he could not be far wrong in repeating the question that
+Newall had just put. So he repeated it.
+
+"Yes, I'll answer it," came Paul's response, "for whatever else you may
+think me guilty of, Stanley, I don't think you'll believe me guilty of
+telling a deliberate falsehood. I haven't set anybody on to keep Newall
+a prisoner in the shed, and, whatever has happened to him, I've had no
+hand in it."
+
+He spoke with such earnestness and sincerity that there was scarcely any
+one present, with perhaps the exception of Newall himself, who doubted
+him.
+
+"I think you can take Percival's word for it," said Stanley, turning to
+Newall.
+
+"Thanks so much for one crumb of confidence." Paul, in spite of himself,
+could not prevent a slight accent of bitterness creeping into his voice.
+"It is really very good of you to think that my word may be taken, and I
+hope you won't think me ungrateful."
+
+"If you say his word may be taken, Moncrief," said Newall, with a shrug
+of his shoulders, "that's enough. But as you have so much confidence in
+him, you'd better question him about the Beetle."
+
+"I was going to," answered Stanley, as, once more turning to Paul, he
+asked: "One of the fellows saw you speaking to a Beetle yesterday. Is
+that true?"
+
+"Quite true."
+
+"Shaking hands with him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Stanley groaned inwardly. He had hoped that it was a mistake--that his
+cousin's eyes had deceived him, but there was no mistake. It was only
+too true. He turned away, unable to hide the disappointment on his face.
+Paul caught a glimpse of it in spite of the darkness, and was about to
+speak, but Newall quickly interposed.
+
+"There's another question which Moncrief's modesty prevents him from
+asking," he said, with a sneer. "We've been given to understand that the
+Beetle you shook hands with is the same Beetle who knocked Moncrief
+about in the sand-pit. Is that true, too?"
+
+Paul was silent, as though he still stood to the resolution he had made
+not to answer Newall.
+
+"Is it--is it?" demanded Stanley, turning swiftly round again, his tone
+almost as fierce as Newall's had been.
+
+"Yes; it is true." Then he added in a lower voice: "There are things I
+can't explain. Will you meet me quietly, by yourself, just for a few
+minutes, Stanley?"
+
+"There's nothing I'm ashamed of. I've no secrets," came the proud, cold
+answer. "If you've anything to explain, explain it now--in the presence
+of my friend Newall and the rest!"
+
+"My friend Newall!" The words froze up all the warmer feelings in Paul's
+breast. It was as though Stanley had taken a knife from his pocket, and
+with one cruel stroke severed the last bond of friendship between them,
+and had then bound with firmer hand the bonds that bound him to Newall.
+
+"Very well. If that is your last word, I've spoken my last word too."
+
+And Paul turned on his heel, leaving them to draw what conclusions they
+liked from his answer.
+
+Newall and his companions set to work removing the feathers which had
+descended on him in such a shower, and while they were actively engaged
+in it Waterman came leisurely along, late as usual, and drawled out:
+
+"Hallo, Newall! What's wrong? Been moulting?"
+
+Newall disdained to answer. It was some time before he got clear of the
+feathers, and then they left unmistakable marks.
+
+"It won't be long before I find out who served me this trick," he said;
+"but I don't think we want to go to the shed now over the other matter."
+
+"Newall's had more than enough of the shed already, seems to me,"
+drawled Waterman.
+
+"Dry up, Water. You're getting it on the brain," responded Newall
+gruffly.
+
+"I think Newall's quite right," said Stanley. "There's no need for any
+meeting now. We've found out that it's all true enough about
+Percival--that he has met a Beetle, that he has spoken to him, that he
+has shaken hands with him that he is on friendly terms with him. He's
+admitted it, so it's no use going to the shed."
+
+There was a murmur of assent.
+
+"Well, but you can't leave it at that. Something more must be done, else
+Percival will be laughing at us in his sleeve," said Parfitt.
+
+"Why not--why shouldn't we leave it at that?" said Waterman. "What's the
+use of worrying over trifles? Percival talks to a Beetle. Why on earth
+shouldn't he, if he likes it? Percival shakes hands with a Beetle.
+Again, I ask, where's the objection, so long as he doesn't want me to do
+it, or any other fellow in the Form. What's the use of making such an
+awful smoke?"
+
+"I think we'd better truss him with Waterman," suggested Newall.
+
+"That's better than being feathered anyhow," retorted Waterman coolly.
+
+"Come, what's to be done? We can't stay here all night," said Hasluck.
+"Leveson will be up presently with his stop-watch."
+
+"We oughtn't to have a fellow like Percival in the school," Parfitt
+commented. "The thing is how to get rid of him. We can't go up to Weevil
+and ask that he shall be turned out. And we can't do what we'd like to
+do--kick him out."
+
+"No, we can't very well do that," struck in Newall. "There's only one
+way."
+
+"What's that?" cried four or five in chorus.
+
+"Make it too warm for the school to hold him."
+
+"No, no; don't do that," came in quick, tense tones from Stanley. "I
+wouldn't like to be one to drive Percival from Garside."
+
+"Nor I," added Waterman, with unusual emphasis for him.
+
+"You!" retorted Newall contemptuously; "you don't count. Moncrief does.
+What's your objection, Moncrief?"
+
+"Percival was once my friend," came the sad answer.
+
+"Friend!" was the scornful reply.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+THE RAFT ON THE RIVER
+
+
+From this time every effort was made to make Paul's life at Garside
+unendurable. The dead set against him extended from the Fifth Form
+downwards. The views which Newall had expressed with so much force on
+the night he had been feathered reigned supreme throughout the school.
+It was felt that Paul had no place there, and that as he would not go of
+his own free will, it was the bounden duty of all of them to follow
+Newall's advice, and drive him from it. So the war against him was
+carried on--not so much openly as secretly--by every petty means that
+could be devised.
+
+Stanley, to his credit, took no part in this secret warfare against
+Paul. He had still some affection for him; but though he took no part in
+it, he made no effort to check it. The fact was that he was getting more
+and more under the thumb of Newall and Parfitt every day.
+
+Even Hibbert seemed to have deserted him. At any rate, Paul saw but
+little of him at this time, and when he did see him, the boy only
+greeted him with a wan, frightened smile, as though he were afraid to
+speak.
+
+Waterman was about the only one who showed no change of manner towards
+him. He was still quite friendly in his lazy fashion. It was he who had
+first given the hint to Paul of the movement on foot against him.
+
+"I may as well put you on your guard, Percival," he said, on the day
+following Newall's declaration against Paul. "You've put up the backs of
+all the Form, and a lot of fellows outside it. They're going for you.
+They mean driving you from Garside."
+
+"I thought something was on foot. Thanks for telling me."
+
+"Oh, you'd have soon found out, you know, without my telling you. But
+you needn't give me away. I only just mention it so that you may know
+what's in the wind. Don't worry. It's not worth it."
+
+With this characteristic piece of advice Waterman left him.
+
+"Trying to drive me from the school," Paul repeated to himself. "Well,
+they may try, and beat me in the long run, but they won't find it easy.
+'Be ye stedfast, unmovable.' By God's help I'll try to be true to the
+school motto."
+
+Having come to that determination, Paul set his teeth hard, and put his
+back to the wall. And so, though scarcely a day passed without bringing
+some fresh insult or tyranny, he still held firm to the position he had
+taken up--to the resolve he had made with himself and his God. It must
+be admitted, however, that the cup was sometimes very near to
+overflowing.
+
+His lot might have been easier to bear had he received some answer to
+the letter he had written to Mr. Moncrief; but as day followed day
+without any response, it seemed to him that Mr. Moncrief disdained
+writing to him, or did not think his letter worth answering. He came to
+the conclusion that Stanley must have written to his uncle, telling him
+what had happened at the sand-pit, and the feeling against Paul at the
+school, and so had poisoned his mind against him.
+
+Once or twice Paul thought of writing to the one friend who never failed
+him--his mother--and unburdening his breast to her; but the thought only
+came to him to be dismissed. It would only make her miserable. She had
+suffered enough in the past without being worried with his petty
+troubles at school. So he determined to stand alone--to fight out the
+battle by himself.
+
+Things were at this pass when an event happened which caused some stir
+at Garside.
+
+About a mile from the school ran the river. Its course lay in
+picturesque variety through peaceful pastoral country, cornfields, and
+orchards. One part of it was spanned by an old wooden bridge. This
+bridge had become so dilapidated by time and wear that the county
+justices had decided that it was dangerous for traffic. So to prevent
+the possibility of an accident, it was decided to pull it down, and
+replace it with a new one.
+
+Accordingly, the bridge was pulled down, and a new one begun. To aid in
+this task, a raft was used by the workmen in crossing the river.
+
+Now Plunger and his companions in the Third Form were deeply interested
+in the work that was going on at the river, but what interested Plunger
+most of all was the raft. It seemed to him that he would like to live
+upon that raft. What could be more delightful than gliding up and down
+the stream on it for ever. Then he thought of the many adventures that
+had happened on rafts--of the many shipwrecked passengers that had been
+saved on them.
+
+"Wish I had one of my own," he remarked to Harry, as the two stood
+watching the men crossing the stream one half-holiday. "Wouldn't it be
+jolly fun?"
+
+"Very," answered Harry, who, fired by Plunger's enthusiasm, began to
+share his longing.
+
+It should be mentioned that Plunger's attitude towards Harry had changed
+since the night when Newall had been feathered in mistake for Baldry.
+
+To use the phrase of the Third--"Moncrief minor had scored," and Plunger
+never respected anybody till they had succeeded in scoring over him--in
+other words, beaten him at his own game. Since then he had begun to
+tolerate Harry, and receive him on something like a footing of equality.
+
+"Those fellows," went on Plunger, nodding his head in the direction of
+the workmen on the raft, "are so beastly selfish."
+
+"How, Freddy?"
+
+"Well, I tried to get on that raft when it was lying idle the other day;
+but they commenced shouting at me like mad. I wasn't doing any harm."
+
+"Of course not."
+
+"If they'd been using it, it'd have been a different thing; but they
+weren't. So why couldn't they have let me cross the river on it--eh?"
+
+"I don't see why. They ought to have been glad to. They didn't know the
+honour they were losing. Now, if you'd only have told 'em who you
+were----"
+
+"Shut up!" cried Plunger, pinching Harry's arm. "But, I say, couldn't we
+just have some lovely games, if we only had a raft like that?"
+
+"Lovely," assented Harry.
+
+Here was silence between them for some moments, as they watched the raft
+and the men upon it with envious eyes.
+
+"Duffers!" exclaimed Plunger, at length giving expression to his
+feelings.
+
+"Don't take on so, Freddy."
+
+"Can't help it--duffers!" repeated Plunger, with still greater emphasis.
+
+Silence again, broken by Harry.
+
+"Would you really like to go on that raft, Freddy!"
+
+"Stow poking fun."
+
+"I'm not poking fun, I'm quite serious. Seems to me that if we really
+wanted to go on that raft, and really made up our minds to it, we ought
+to be able to manage it."
+
+"How?" came the eager question.
+
+"Easy enough if we go the right way, and don't make a mess of it, like
+Newall did that night when he walked into the Forum."
+
+"We're not talking about the Forum," said Plunger quickly, giving Harry
+another pinch. "We're talking about rafts--that raft," pointing to the
+one on the river.
+
+"And it's that raft I'm talking about. Have you ever noticed what
+happens on a Saturday?"
+
+"Many things happen on a Saturday; but what is the one thing that
+happens in particular?"
+
+"The workmen on the bridge leave off exactly as the clock strikes
+twelve--a little bit sooner if they can manage it. Never later."
+
+"Oh, yes; they're very punctual at leaving off. But what's that to do
+with the raft?"
+
+"A good deal. They always leave the raft tied up under the bridge. What
+would be easier than to untie it, and there you are."
+
+"Harry, you're a genius--a reg'lar genius!" cried Plunger, bringing his
+hand down on Harry's back. "It never sprouted out like that when you
+were at Gaffer Quelch's. It's come on since you've been at Garside. I
+must have helped it."
+
+Plunger had undoubtedly helped in the development of what he was pleased
+to term Harry's "genius," but whether altogether to the advantage of
+Harry time alone could show.
+
+"You helped it, Freddy! The only help you give is helping Number One.
+You ought to have belonged to the help-myself society. You'd have been
+just the fellow for the president."
+
+Plunger kicked Harry, and Harry returned the compliment; then their eyes
+went to the river again, and the raft, which was just getting under way
+again to cross to the other side.
+
+"Those duffers don't know how to use a raft," said Harry contemptuously,
+after he had been watching the workmen for some moments.
+
+"Of course they don't. That's the worst of being landlubbers. Wish we
+could only take them in hand and show them."
+
+"One of 'em ought to be wearing a suit of goatskins and things of that
+sort, with a great cap on his head, with the hair on the outside to
+shoot off the rain if it came on," said Harry thoughtfully.
+
+"Like Robinson Crusoe, you mean?"
+
+"Like Robinson Crusoe. That slim fellow with the black hair would do for
+Friday, and the others could be Indians--if they only knew how to do
+things properly; but they don't."
+
+"They don't," repeated Plunger emphatically. "My, if we only had the
+working of that raft, Harry, we'd make things hum!"
+
+It was tantalizing to watch the men, so they turned away with visions of
+what it would be possible to accomplish if they only had possession of
+the raft. They could discover a desert island on the other side of the
+river, pitch their tent on it, and do "lots of things." Full of these
+splendid visions, they walked along in silence, each busy with his own
+thoughts.
+
+"I think we can work it, Harry," Plunger at length remarked.
+
+"Work what?"
+
+"That Crusoe idea. We can get the raft next Saturday, and easily peg out
+a desert island on the other side of the river. I shan't want to dress
+up much. I've got a ragged jacket which'll be near enough for skins, and
+a soft felt which I can cut round the brim with Mrs. Trounce's scissors.
+That'll do for the hat."
+
+"Whose hat?"
+
+"Crusoe's hat, of course."
+
+"And who's going to wear it?"
+
+"Who's going to wear it?" Plunger's eyebrows disappeared into the roots
+of his hair in amazement at the question. "I am, of course!"
+
+"You mean that you're going to be Crusoe?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+And Plunger's eyebrows remained so high up in the roots of his hair at
+the bare idea of anybody else playing the part that it seemed as though
+they would never come down again.
+
+"Well, but where do I come in?"
+
+"You can be Friday or an Indian."
+
+"And make myself black, and go about without any shoes and socks on, and
+get thorns in my feet, and--and things like that. No, Freddy; no, I
+don't! We'll change parts. I'll be Crusoe; you be Friday. You look more
+like a savage than I do."
+
+Plunger did not seem altogether pleased with the compliment, for he
+brought his knuckles down on Harry's head; but Harry was not quite the
+meek boy he was when he first came to Garside, so he returned the
+compliment, with interest. Then Plunger tried by cajolery to induce him
+to let him be Crusoe, and satisfy himself with the part of Friday, but
+Harry remained firm.
+
+"I first thought of it," he argued, "and I ought to have first choice.
+If we're going on that raft, I'm going as Crusoe, Freddy."
+
+Plunger preserved a gloomy silence for some moments; then he suddenly
+lifted his head, and his eyes sparkled.
+
+"I've got it. Why shouldn't there be two Crusoes?"
+
+"Two Crusoes! You and I, Freddy?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Harry had never heard of two Crusoes existing on the desert island at
+one and the same time, but he didn't see why there shouldn't be. It
+would be more up to date. Besides it solved the difficulty, so he
+promptly consented.
+
+"But, who'll be Man Friday?"
+
+"Oh, we'll make the Camel Man Friday. He'll do splendidly."
+
+"The Camel" was the cruel nickname it will be remembered that Newall had
+given to Hibbert. Unfortunately, a name like that sticks, and it had
+stuck to Hibbert.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+ON A VOYAGE OF ADVENTURE
+
+
+Moncrief minor and Plunger, having decided that they would improve upon
+Defoe's famous story and introduce two Crusoes into their forthcoming
+adventures instead of one, and having further decided that Hibbert
+should be Man Friday, it only remained to put their project into
+execution as soon as possible.
+
+A little way down the river, on the opposite side to that on which the
+raft was usually moored, was a plantation. It had a thick growth of
+furze and bushes, and save for the rabbits and squirrels, was quite
+desolate during the winter. What better place could be selected for the
+desert island?
+
+"Just the ticket," said Plunger, rubbing his hands, after he and Harry
+had explored the plantation with a view to their forthcoming enterprise.
+"Couldn't have been better if it had been built for us. We must be
+careful, though, and not let old Baldhead and the others know anything
+about it. They'll all want to cut in--Sedgefield, Bember, and the rest.
+I know them. Two Crusoes are quite enough at one time, don't you think?"
+
+Harry quite agreed with Plunger. In fact, he was rather doubtful whether
+two weren't too many--too many by one. But he didn't hint it to Plunger,
+for fear of bringing up the old dispute.
+
+"Have you sounded the Camel?" Plunger asked presently.
+
+"Not yet; but I don't think he'll mind, except for one thing."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"Having his face blacked. He's sure to object to that."
+
+"But he needn't know anything about it till we get him over in the
+plantation; then he can kick and squeal as much as he likes. It won't
+matter. Let's hunt him up now."
+
+The two thereupon went in search of Hibbert. When they found him, Harry
+informed him in glowing language of their project for the coming
+Saturday.
+
+"And just by way of a little treat we thought we'd take you with us,"
+said Plunger, as Harry concluded his explanation. "It'll be fine fun.
+When we get on the desert island we can have splendid adventures!"
+
+"Yes, yes; it'll be fine fun, as you say; but I'd rather not," answered
+Hibbert, for whom the river had little attraction. He somehow feared it.
+"I'll give way to some of the others."
+
+"But you're not going to give way. You're too fond of taking a back
+seat. You never have any fun; the other fellows have plenty. It's a
+jolly shame!" exclaimed Plunger, waxing indignant. "It isn't right, is
+it, Harry?"
+
+"No, it isn't," Harry promptly assented. "I don't see why the Camel
+shouldn't have as much fun as the rest of us."
+
+"But--but I don't want it. I'm quite content."
+
+"Ah, that's it. You're too content; but we're not. We mean making things
+better for you. It's nearly time some alteration was made. Baldry,
+Sedgefield, and the others would never think of giving you a bit of
+pleasure. They're too selfish--aren't they, Harry?"
+
+"Awfully!"
+
+"So we're leaving them out of it, and you're coming with us instead,
+Hibbert. We'll have a good time, I can tell you."
+
+Plunger spoke with so much earnestness, and was backed up by Harry with
+no less earnestness, that Hibbert really thought that their sole object
+in taking him with them on the raft was to give him "a bit of pleasure."
+It was perfectly clear also that they would take no denial; so Hibbert,
+making a virtue of necessity, reluctantly consented.
+
+"Whatever you do don't let out what we're going to do to the other
+fellows," was Plunger's parting injunction, "or they'll be eating their
+heads off with envy."
+
+Nevertheless, in spite of Plunger's injunction, the secret leaked out.
+Indeed, it would have been an astonishing thing if it hadn't, for the
+proposed adventure on the raft had taken such complete possession of the
+mind of Plunger, that he could think of little else. He dreamt about it,
+and talked it over with Harry at every opportunity. In addition to this,
+they had been seen carrying parcels in the direction of the plantation.
+
+The long-looked-for Saturday at length came. It had been agreed between
+the two confederates that, so as to avoid suspicion, Plunger should
+stroll up to the bridge just before the hour the men left off work, and
+that Harry should arrive on the scene a few minutes later with Hibbert,
+from another direction.
+
+"If anybody's about they won't suspect anything," said Plunger. "We
+shall meet as if by accident, and keep out of the way till the road's
+clear."
+
+Precisely as arranged, Plunger strolled up to the old bridge, which by
+this time was almost demolished. The workmen had made fast the raft to a
+stake at the side of the river, and, having received their wages,
+hastened off at the stroke of twelve. No one heeded Plunger. A few
+minutes later, Harry came up with Hibbert, who was trying to look as
+happy as possible under the circumstances, but was nevertheless far from
+comfortable. The river always seemed so cruel to him--so treacherous.
+And somehow it had seemed more cruel, more treacherous, since Paul had
+told him the story of his father's death.
+
+"All serene, Harry," cried Plunger. "The road's clear. We've got it all
+to ourselves."
+
+"That's good," said Harry. "We're in luck's way. Let's make hay while
+the sun shines. Wait for us on the towing-path, Hibbert. We'll soon be
+alongside."
+
+Leaving Hibbert on the towing-path, the two boys got on the raft, and
+proceeded to untie it from the stake to which it was attached. This did
+not take them long, and, having secured a punting-pole, they soon
+brought the raft to where Hibbert was awaiting them.
+
+"I'd--I'd rather not go," said the boy hesitating.
+
+"Don't talk rubbish. Get on. You don't mean to say you funk it?"
+
+To tell the truth, Hibbert did "funk it," though there seemed so little
+to fear; but he was, as we know, a nervous, timid boy. None the less, he
+always tried to disguise his feelings even to himself.
+
+"Funk--not a bit; but--but I'm never much help, and--and I thought I
+might be in the way. It's a jolly raft, isn't he!" he said, as he
+stepped on.
+
+"Jolly."
+
+Plunger pushed off and they went slowly down the river in the direction
+of the plantation.
+
+"It's smooth enough here, but what must it be like on the sea, eh?"
+asked Plunger, after an interval of silence.
+
+"Without any food or water and no sign of a sail."
+
+"Yes, famishing with hunger and casting lots which shall die," added
+Plunger cheerfully, glaring at Hibbert, as though he contemplated him
+for a victim. Hibbert, pale before, turned to an ashen hue. "Why, what's
+the matter, Camel? Don't you feel well? Seasick?"
+
+"I--I'm all right. Is--isn't it jolly?" answered Hibbert, with a feeble
+attempt at a smile.
+
+Though Hibbert was far from enjoying himself, in spite of trying to
+impress upon himself that he was, his companions were in their element.
+As they floated along the river, they imagined themselves to be
+adventurers, bent on discovery and deeds of heroism. All the same Harry
+began to feel that Plunger, as usual, was trying to take up the position
+of command, and make him play second fiddle.
+
+"I say, Freddy," he presently burst out, "isn't it time that I did a bit
+of punting?"
+
+"I'd like you to have a try, I really would; but it's not so easy as it
+looks. You've never done any punting, and you don't know how hard it
+is."
+
+"And what do you know about it? You've never done any of it till now.
+You're not going to gammon me, Freddy; so hand over the pole."
+
+As Plunger did not seem inclined to give up the pole, Harry caught hold
+of it, with the intention of enforcing his demands. As he did so, the
+raft swayed, and Hibbert, crying out in alarm, clutched Harry in turn to
+steady himself.
+
+"Don't be an ass, Harry," exclaimed Plunger hotly. "You'll have us over
+in a minute. We're not on dry land. We're not out for a picnic."
+
+"Give up the pole, then. We were to go halves--share and share alike. I
+know as much about punting as you do; so let me have a turn."
+
+"Put me on land," said Hibbert appealingly, fearing that a struggle
+would take place between the two boys.
+
+"Don't be such an awful funk, Camel," exclaimed Plunger roughly. "Let
+go, Harry. Don't play about on this bit of wood or over we go. I'm not
+insured, if you are. I said we'd go halves, and so we will. Let me
+finish punting to the plantation and you shall do the punting back."
+
+"You mean it?"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+Satisfied with this promise, Harry let go the pole, much to the relief
+of Hibbert. The rest of the voyage was passed without further dispute,
+and in a little while they reached the plantation in safety. Having
+secured the raft, they made their way into the thicket. Hibbert
+timorously inquired where they were going.
+
+"We told you we were out for adventures," explained Plunger. "Harry and
+me are Crusoes--twins, you see."
+
+Hibbert nodded assent, but he could not help thinking that he had never
+seen twins who were so utterly unlike each other as the two before him.
+
+"You're to be Friday, Camel."
+
+"Friday--yes," Hibbert feebly assented. "Wha--what's he to do?"
+
+"He's got to discover us--the twin Crusoes."
+
+Hibbert thought that to balance things there ought to be a twin Friday,
+but he only repeated, "Twin Crusoes--yes." As he did so, he thought he
+heard a rustling among the bushes, as though some wild beast were
+crawling amongst them. He looked round with a shiver, but saw nothing.
+Plunger and Harry, too intent on their enterprise to hear anything, had
+been groping about in the thicket for something they had hidden there.
+Presently Plunger cried, "Got it!"
+
+He drew out a brown-paper parcel from its hiding-place as he spoke,
+while Harry explained as he did so:
+
+"This is to be a sort of dress rehearsal, you see. The next time we come
+we shall be able to do the thing properly."
+
+"Yes, we've only got the hats and Friday's wig, and the stuff for his
+face," went on Plunger, as he pitched a brimless felt hat to Harry and
+clapped one of similar design on his own head. "We mean having the skin
+coats next time. Here's your wig, Camel--Friday, I mean. Let's see how
+it fits."
+
+He took from the parcel a wig, which had been skilfully designed from a
+couple of fluffy woollen table mats, once the property of Mrs. Trounce.
+Pulling off Hibbert's cap, Plunger fixed this curiously fashioned wig on
+the boy's head.
+
+"Fits to a T. Doesn't it, Harry?"
+
+Harry nodded.
+
+"Wish we only had a looking-glass here so that you could see yourself in
+it, Camel," went on Plunger. "You only want painting up a bit, and there
+you are. Hold your face down while Moncrief puts on the artistic
+touches."
+
+Hibbert feebly protested. He didn't want his face painted.
+
+"Now, look here, Camel," said Plunger, giving his arm a twist which made
+him wince, "we're not going to hurt you; so don't be silly. Friday was a
+savage, you know, and savages don't go about with white faces, and yours
+is awfully white. Don't be silly, I say."
+
+Hibbert wriggled for a moment, but seeing that it was useless for him to
+struggle further, gave in with as good grace as possible. Harry at once
+went to work on his face. First of all greasing it, he next smeared it
+with burnt cork, until Hibbert was as black as a nigger. Thus blackened,
+and with the rudely fashioned wig as crown, Hibbert presented a curious
+appearance indeed. The two burst into laughter when they had finished.
+Their laughter seemed to echo through the plantation. Suddenly their
+laughter was checked.
+
+"Did you hear it? Strange, wasn't it?" said Plunger.
+
+Hibbert looked tremblingly round. Of a sudden an unearthly yell rent the
+air, and half a dozen dusky figures leapt from the bushes in the
+distance. Flourishing curiously-shaped weapons, very like tomahawks,
+they rushed, yelling and screaming, towards the bewildered boys.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+WHAT HAPPENED ON THE RAFT
+
+
+Hibbert, a picture of terror, turned and fled towards the river, and
+Plunger and Harry, imagining for the moment that they had been set upon
+by real savages, promptly followed his example. The dusky figures
+followed in pursuit, still yelling their outlandish cries.
+
+"Ka-pei, ka-pei! Houp, houp! O-jib-e-way! Koo-oo, koo-oo!"
+
+Hibbert ran as he had never run before in his life. Terror lent speed to
+his feet. He had got the start of his companions, so that they only drew
+up to him as he reached the river.
+
+"Quick--the raft!" shouted Plunger. "They'll be on us in a minute."
+
+It was the raft for which Hibbert was making.
+
+"Ka-pei, ka-pei! Houp, Houp! O-jib-e-way! Koo-oo, koo-oo!"
+
+The cries of the pursuers drew nearer and nearer. Hibbert reached the
+raft and leapt on it.
+
+"Undo the rope! I'll push off!" panted Plunger.
+
+Harry never thought of the promise Plunger had made--that he should punt
+the raft back. His only desire was that they should put the river
+between them and their pursuers as quickly as possible. In less than a
+moment he had undone the rope which bound the raft to the bank, and
+leapt to Plunger's side. Brief as the space of time, it had enabled the
+foremost of their pursuers to reach the bank.
+
+"Push off, Freddy," cried Harry.
+
+Plunger pushed off in desperation. Too late! The foremost of the
+pursuers had followed them on to the raft. Plunger could see the dusky
+face looking into his. The raft had floated a little way from the bank.
+With another unearthly cry three more of the savage-looking figures
+leapt on.
+
+The raft swayed ominously. Plunger made a wild endeavour to push further
+out into the stream. The raft lurched forward. There was a cry of
+horror, a splash, and the next moment three of the boys--Plunger,
+Hibbert, and one of "the savages"--were struggling in the water.
+
+The impetus given to the raft had taken it out into midstream, and when
+the three rose to the surface, it was at some distance from them. By the
+ducking in the water the paint of the "noble savage" was running down
+his face, and Plunger, in that terrible moment, recognized that it was
+Baldry.
+
+Plunger knew little of swimming. Fortunately, Baldry knew more of it
+than he did, and was able to clutch him by the arm and hold him up. But
+those on the raft saw with horror that they had floated right away from
+Hibbert, and that was he drowning before their eyes.
+
+Harry looked round for the punting-hole, in the hope that he might go to
+the aid of the drowning boy. Alas! Plunger had carried the pole with him
+when he had fallen into the river, and it was now floating down the
+stream at some distance from them.
+
+"The Camel's drowning!" gasped Harry.
+
+The boys on the raft saw that he was. They had caught sight of the white
+face as it rose for the second time to the surface. And they stood
+there, transfixed horrified, at the tragedy that was taking place before
+them. Unable to find the punting-pole, Harry would have leapt into the
+river, but Sedgefield, one of the "savages" who had jumped upon the
+raft, was just in time to clutch him by the arm and hold him back.
+
+"Look, Moncrief! That's Percival, isn't it?"
+
+Harry stood, trembling in every limb, on the edge of the raft, and
+followed the direction of Sedgefield's finger. Yes, Percival it was. Cut
+off from the games of his companions, left entirely to himself, he had
+brought out his rod and line to pass an hour or so angling. While thus
+occupied, he had heard the shouts and cries raised by the "savages" on
+the opposite bank.
+
+"What's wrong?" he asked himself, as he stood quite still and listened.
+
+The shouting grew louder; the yells more unearthly, and in a tongue, as
+it seemed to him, he had never heard before.
+
+Dropping his rod, he raced along the bank, just in time to to see from a
+distance the raft push off with the boys upon it, and the disaster that
+followed, as it floated further into the stream. He paused for an
+instant as he breathlessly watched the scene; then raced forward at full
+speed, flung off his jacket, waistcoat, and boots, and struck out, hand
+over hand, to where Hibbert was struggling in the water.
+
+Fortunately, Paul was a powerful swimmer. Even in his cradle his father
+had taken his little hand in his large one, and, while looking lovingly
+in his face, had said to the wife who sat beside him:
+
+"The son of a sea-dog, the son of a sea-dog! He must never know the fear
+of water."
+
+Alas! it was the cruel water which had carried off the father, but the
+son had grown up true to his wish--he had never known the fear of water.
+So he had become a bold and powerful swimmer. With a swift, sweeping
+side-stroke he reached Hibbert's side, just as he was sinking for the
+last time. Clutching the drowning boy by the hair, he held him up; then,
+turning on his back, he drew him to his chest, and, kicking out with his
+feet, soon reached the bank.
+
+Placing the boy gently on the turf, Paul gazed anxiously into his face.
+The eyes were closed; the lips ghastly blue; the heart seemed still.
+
+"Hibbert, Hibbert!" cried Paul, as he tried to restore animation.
+
+No answer came to his pleading cry. The eyes still remained closed. A
+big fear took possession of Paul. Had the eyes closed never to open
+more? Had help come when it was too late? Was the little chap dead?
+Notwithstanding the fear that seized him, he did not relax his efforts,
+and presently, to his great joy, the lids fluttered, then opened, and
+the eyes went up to his face. They were dazed, bewildered. Slowly a look
+of recognition came into them.
+
+"Per--Percival!" came in a feeble whisper from the lips; then the lids,
+as though exhausted by the effort they had made, closed again.
+
+Danger was not yet past, but the boy lived, and Paul, breathing more
+freely, looked round to see what had happened to the others. It had been
+a near thing with Baldry and Plunger. Baldry had supported Plunger for
+some time, but neither had been able to reach the raft or the bank;
+while those on the raft were unable to move to their assistance. The
+strength of both was, therefore, giving out rapidly.
+
+"Let go of me, Baldry. Take care of yourself!" gasped Plunger.
+
+"Shan't Freddy," answered Baldry feebly. "Sit tight!"
+
+Even in that terrible moment, with death looming grimly before him,
+Plunger smiled faintly. Baldry's advice seemed so ludicrous. Sit tight!
+What was he to sit tight on? They grew fainter every moment.
+
+"God, help us!" was the prayer that came from the heart of Baldry.
+
+Human help seemed to have failed them. So, at least, it seemed; but
+Paul, looking up from Hibbert at this moment, his heart gladdened at
+hearing his name, saw the dilemma in which they were placed--the peril
+in which they stood. Unless assistance soon reached them, they must go
+under.
+
+What was to be done? He could not see them drown before his eyes.
+Yet--yet, if he were to leave Hibbert, what would happen to him? It was
+true that he had opened his eyes and spoken, but perhaps that was only
+the last feeble flicker of the candle. Paul's hand went quickly to the
+boy's heart. It was still beating, though feebly. Again his eyes went to
+where Baldry and Plunger were making a desperate fight for life. Three
+lives were trembling in the balance.
+
+The prayer that had come from Baldry's lips a moment since came from
+Paul's.
+
+"God, help me! What am I to do?"
+
+He gave another swift glance into Hibbert's face. It seemed to smile at
+him, as though in answer to his prayer. "Go," it seemed to say. The
+next instant Paul plunged into the river, swimming towards the two boys,
+with the same swift stroke which had enabled him to reach Hibbert's
+side.
+
+As he cut through the water, his right hand struck against something.
+His fingers closed round it. It was the punting-pole that Plunger had
+lost, and which had been partly responsible for the accident. God had
+answered his prayer. He had helped him. It would have been impossible
+for him to have saved the two fast-drowning boys by his own unaided
+efforts. Now it was possible.
+
+"Catch hold!" he cried, as he directed one end of the pole to Baldry and
+Plunger.
+
+They eagerly gripped it; then, grasping the other end, Paul swam to
+shore. It was a strange freight he was towing--two human lives. And his
+heart seemed beating like the valve of a steam-tug as he reached the
+bank and pulled his freight ashore.
+
+"You're a brick--that's what you are, Percival!" were the first words
+that Plunger gasped, as he struggled, with the water dripping from him,
+up the bank.
+
+Baldry's eyes had gone to the still figure lying on the grass.
+
+"It's--it's the Camel! What--what's wrong with him?" he asked, as he
+stood gazing at the still form. "Is--is he dead?"
+
+"I hope not--I think not," said Paul, as he raised the slight figure in
+his arms. "I must leave you fellows to look after yourselves."
+
+So saying, holding Hibbert close to him, he hastened along the road that
+led to the school. Once or twice he paused to make sure that Hibbert's
+heart was beating. Yes; it was still beating, though feebly: having
+reassured himself, he hurried on again with his burden.
+
+The road seemed longer to him than it had ever been before; but at
+length he drew near, and his eyes went up to the first thing that a
+Garside boy usually looked to--the old flag.
+
+He could scarcely believe his eyes. Were they mocking him, or was he
+under a delusion? The flag did not seem to be flying there.
+
+"My eyes are playing tricks with me," he thought as he hurried
+breathless into the grounds.
+
+A few steps more and he met Stanley. He stopped and regarded Paul with
+surprise. He advanced a step, as though with the intention of speaking
+to him, but quickly changing his mind, went on his way. Paul clenched
+his teeth hard and staggered on with his burden. Luckily it was only a
+light one.
+
+Reaching the schoolhouse door, he met Waterman coming from it.
+
+"Percival! What are you fagging with there?" For once Waterman was
+genuinely roused. "An accident? Why, it's young Hibbert. What's
+happened?"
+
+"He's had a ducking in the river. Run for Dr. Clack--as quickly as you
+can."
+
+Waterman needed no second bidding. His natural indolence of manner,
+under which was hidden much more energy than people gave him credit for,
+vanished on the instant. He darted off at the top of his speed. Paul did
+not relinquish his burden till, under the direction of the matron, he
+had placed it on a bed in the sick dormitory.
+
+"A doctor must be fetched," said the matron, as Hibbert's eyes remained
+closed, in spite of her efforts to bring him back to consciousness.
+
+"Waterman's gone for Dr. Clack."
+
+"That's right. The poor little fellow's in a bad way. Oh, you boys--you
+boys!" came in a sigh from the matron's lips. "Always in mischief. Who
+pushed him into the river?"
+
+"Nobody pushed him. He fell in, so far as I could see."
+
+Paul did not tell her that two more Gargoyles had fallen into the river
+at the same time, for fear of alarming her still more.
+
+"Why didn't you stop him from playing about on the river? You're old
+enough to know better," said Mrs. Trounce wrathfully.
+
+Paul stood silent under this rebuke. He had not explained all the
+circumstances of the accident--so far, at least, as he knew them--for
+fear of implicating the other boys. He had caught a glimpse of the
+savage "get-up" of Baldry and his companions, and the black stains on
+Hibbert's face, which had only been partially washed away by the water.
+He guessed, therefore, that there was more in the accident than at first
+met the eye.
+
+"If he dies we shall have the police here a-makin' all sorts of
+inquiries," continued the angry matron. "And I shouldn't wonder if they
+took you off to the lock-up, and brought you up before a judge and jury.
+And serve you right, ses I. You elder boys want a lesson. Instead of
+stopping the little fellow from playing on the river, you encouraged
+him, I expect. I know the way you big boys have. You use the paws of the
+little ones to pull out the roast chestnuts. It's disgraceful, I call
+it."
+
+Thus the matron poured out the vials of her wrath on Paul's head, while
+she busied herself at the same time in doing all she could to restore
+the patient to consciousness. Her words fell unheeded on Paul's ears. He
+was watching the face of Hibbert, and wondering whether the eyes would
+ever open again, and look up to him as they had looked up to him on that
+day when he had put his hand timidly on his shoulder and whispered:
+
+"You look so wretched and miserable I could not help coming to you.
+You're not angry with me, are you?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+THE OLD FLAG
+
+
+As the thought went through Paul's mind, the door opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered. To Paul's wonder the master fell on his knees beside the bed,
+and, taking Hibbert's hand in his, murmured:
+
+"Tim, Tim, what have they done to you? Speak, Tim."
+
+The cold nature of the master seemed to have melted as he looked at the
+unconscious boy. Paul had never heard him call Hibbert by his Christian
+name before. The ashen lips were moving tremulously. The blinking eyes
+were fixed tenderly on the boy's face, and--was Paul dreaming?--he
+thought he saw a tear roll down the master's cheek.
+
+"Why did I leave you to yourself? Speak, Tim, speak," came the pleading
+tones.
+
+For once Mr. Weevil's self-control had given way. He was strangely
+moved. Paul was too moved himself at the time to take much notice, but
+he recalled every incident in that strange scene after. Then, as no
+answer came to his appeal, the master seemed to wander in his talk, and
+babbled words in an unknown tongue.
+
+He was still kneeling by the bed, talking in this way, when Dr. Clack,
+the school doctor, entered. His face remained very grave as he examined
+his patient.
+
+"It's been a very near thing with him," he said, when he had finished
+his examination; "but with careful nursing he may pull round."
+
+Paul heard the news with a thankful heart, for he had begun to fear that
+the case was hopeless. Mr. Weevil had now quite recovered his
+self-possession, and, leaving the patient in the hands of the doctor and
+the matron, beckoned Paul to follow him to his room.
+
+On entering it he closed the door, and questioned Paul minutely as to
+the cause of the accident. Paul explained to him what he had seen, the
+more readily because the little he had seen threw no particular blame on
+any one.
+
+"And you don't know how it happened?"
+
+"No, sir; I haven't the least idea."
+
+"You weren't in any way concerned in it?" demanded Mr. Weevil, suddenly
+opening his half-closed eyes and fixing them on Paul.
+
+Paul felt indignant. He had made as little as possible of his share in
+rescuing Hibbert; and as a result the master seemed to have a lurking
+suspicion that he was in league in some way with the boys who had caused
+the accident.
+
+"No, sir, I was in no way concerned in it," he flashed back. "It was
+quite by chance that I was at the river-side this afternoon."
+
+"Well, the matter must be further inquired into. It is quite certain
+that there is something that needs explanation."
+
+"I know nothing about that, sir; but if you've no more questions to ask
+me, I'd like to change my things."
+
+Paul's clothes had nearly dried on him. He had taken no heed of himself
+in thinking of Hibbert; but now that Hibbert was in bed, and in the
+hands of those who could take care of him, he began to think a little of
+his own condition, which was not altogether so comfortable as might have
+been desired.
+
+"I'm sorry. I really had forgotten that you were in damp clothes. Why
+didn't you mention it before? You must change them at once."
+
+Mr. Weevil seemed really sorry that he had not given a thought to Paul's
+condition before. Paul hastened off to change his damp cloth for dry
+ones. While he was thus engaged, Plunger and Baldry entered for the same
+purpose. Otherwise they seemed none the worse for the cold bath.
+Plunger, in fact had got on good terms with himself again, and was as
+perky as ever.
+
+"I should have punted across the river all right if it hadn't been for
+Hibbert," he explained. "The scream he gave threw me off my stroke. It
+was jolly good of you all the same to come to us, Percival. We shan't
+forget it in a hurry--shall we, Baldry?"
+
+"No," was Baldry's emphatic answer. "By the by, how is Hibbert going
+on?"
+
+"I was just going to ask the same thing. I would rather have gone under
+myself than that he should. Has the doctor been to him?"
+
+Plunger spoke with unusual earnestness.
+
+"Yes, Dr. Clack's been to him. He's with him now."
+
+"And what does he say?"
+
+"He says that it's been a near thing, but with careful nursing he may
+pull round."
+
+Plunger paused with one arm in the sleeve of the jacket he was putting
+on, and sat down on the side of the bed. He was beginning to realize how
+near the Crusoe expedition had been to a tragedy--nay, the danger was
+not yet over. Silence fell on the room for some moments. Each was busy
+with his own thoughts.
+
+"I haven't yet heard how it all happened," Paul at length inquired.
+
+Plunger told him the origin of the "Crusoe expedition," and all that had
+happened up to the moment of the accident.
+
+"I don't know anything about the savages that boarded us on the raft.
+Baldry can tell you that part," he concluded.
+
+"Oh, we found out all about the expedition, and didn't like being left
+out of it. We thought that we'd have a cut in on our own account. So
+Sedgefield, Bember, Viner, and myself got down to the plantation before
+Plunger, Moncrief minor, and Hibbert reached it on the raft. While they
+landed and got ready for their part, we got ready for ours. What was the
+use of Crusoe without the noble savages? So we got up as savages, and
+frightened the life out of Plunger and the other two by swooping down on
+'em just like Indians would, you know."
+
+"You didn't frighten me, I tell you," protested Plunger.
+
+"Of course not; but Crusoe, when he first saw savages, never sprinted
+along half so quickly as you did, I'll warrant! Greased lightning wasn't
+in it with you, Plunger."
+
+Plunger did not answer, but diligently set to work getting his other arm
+into the sleeve of his coat.
+
+"Well, but what's become of the other fellows on the raft--Moncrief,
+Sedgefield, and the others?" inquired Paul.
+
+"Oh, they were still on the raft, floating gaily along, when we left.
+Goodness knows when they would get ashore," says Baldry.
+
+"It's a bit unfortunate, you see, for none of the fellows now left on
+the raft understand anything about punting," put in Plunger. "It's
+rather a pity I couldn't have got back to them."
+
+"It's just that that makes me feel easy. There's a good chance of their
+pulling through, now you're not with them, Plunger," was Baldry's
+ungracious response. "Why, here they are!"
+
+As he was speaking, in fact, three of the four entered--Bember,
+Sedgefield, and Harry Moncrief. After they had spent some time on the
+raft, drifting aimlessly on the river, a boatman had towed them ashore.
+Fixing the raft in its place by the bridge, they had returned in all
+haste to the school, anxious to know what had happened to their
+companions. When they had learned all particulars, Sedgefield exclaimed:
+
+"I don't care what those Fifth Form fellows say or think, but will you
+take my hand, Percival?"
+
+Paul willingly gripped the hand extended to him. Bember and the others,
+with the exception of Harry, followed suit. Harry struggled with himself
+for a moment. He could not help remembering, in spite of his effort to
+forget it, that Paul was responsible for the thrashing that his cousin
+had received at the hands of a Beetle, and that he had seen him shaking
+hands with the same obnoxious creature. Yet what could have been nobler,
+Harry told himself, than the way in which, at the risk of his own life,
+Paul had gone to the rescue of Hibbert, and had returned a few minutes
+later to save Plunger and Baldry? He had witnessed it all from the raft,
+with his heart in his mouth. Yes, it was a noble deed. He had never seen
+a nobler. What was the defeat of Stanley--the wound of his
+pride--compared with it? Instinctively his hand went out to Paul as the
+other hands had done, when Viner entered the room.
+
+"Have you heard the news?" he questioned, greatly excited.
+
+"The news! What news?" demanded Sedgefield.
+
+"The school flag. It's gone!"
+
+"Gone!" they echoed, as with one voice.
+
+Paul's mind went back with a rush to when he had entered the grounds
+with Hibbert in his arms. His eyes had not deceived him, then. The flag
+had really gone.
+
+"Nonsense!" cried Sedgefield.
+
+"Not much nonsense about it. If you don't believe me, you'd better go
+and look for yourself."
+
+The intelligence was so remarkable, that Plunger and Harry raced into
+the grounds. A minute later they returned.
+
+"Viner's quite right. It's gone," they exclaimed in a breath.
+
+"But how--where--when?" questioned Sedgefield. "Who has taken it?"
+
+"No one knows. It must have happened while we were on the river, so we
+could know nothing about it. Somebody must have stolen up the turret
+stair and got on to the roof. That's the only possible way it could be
+done. The senior Forms are in a rare wax over it."
+
+"I should think so," burst out Plunger. "What fellow can rest easy now
+that our flag's been hauled down? I only wish that I had hold of the one
+who did it."
+
+"You'd give him a lesson in punting, wouldn't you, Freddy?" observed
+Baldry, with a wink at those around him.
+
+Plunger glared at Baldry. He would have brought his knuckles down on his
+head, only he remembered what Baldry had done for him.
+
+"Seriously," said Sedgefield, "it can't have walked. There's not a
+fellow in Garside who would have pulled down the old flag, even for a
+joke; I'm certain of that."
+
+"And I." "And I." "And I," came in a chorus.
+
+"A Beetle must have sneaked in. It must be the work of a Beetle."
+
+"That's what I've been thinking," said Bember. "It's only one of those
+cads could have done a sneakish trick like that."
+
+"Supposing it is a Beetle, which of them could have done it? Which of
+them could have made his way into the school without being seen, and
+then got to the door in the turret?" asked Baldry.
+
+"Mellor knows all about the building. He could easily describe
+the way to any of the Beetles," said Viner. "That champion of
+theirs--Wyndham--has made us eat enough dirt already. He made our picked
+man turn tail"--every eye went to Paul as Viner spoke with
+bitterness--"and Moncrief eat dirt. Now we've lost the flag. Really,
+we're getting on. We can't sink much lower."
+
+The atmosphere in the dormitory was getting oppressive. Every one felt
+uncomfortable. That allusion to Paul was true enough. He had turned
+away, like a frightened cur, from Wyndham; but who could accuse him of
+being a coward after what had happened that day? It was altogether
+inexplicable.
+
+Baldry was the first to speak.
+
+"You know what has happened this afternoon, Viner. Percival saved my
+life, and you're not going to fling mud at him while I'm standing by."
+
+"And I say ditto to Baldry," blustered Plunger.
+
+"Oh, I deserve it," said Paul, for the first time breaking silence.
+"It's true--every word that Viner said. I did turn tail. It was the act
+of a coward. And Stanley Moncrief suffered through me, and through me
+all the school has eaten dirt. But if the school has suffered through
+me, through me it shall be lifted up again. If the Beetles have taken
+our flag, by God's help I will get it back again, and again it shall fly
+in its old place on the turret. If I fail----"
+
+But Baldry cut him short, and shouted:
+
+"Three cheers for Percival!"
+
+The cheers were given very heartily, though Viner took little part in
+the cheering; but ere the last cheer had died away, a messenger came
+from the sick-room. Hibbert was still in a very critical condition, but
+he had recovered consciousness, and was asking for Paul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+HIBBERT ASKS STRANGE QUESTIONS
+
+
+The message brought back the minds of the boys with painful abruptness
+to the struggle of a far different kind which was taking place in the
+sick-room. In the loss of the school flag they had forgotten, for the
+time being, the crisis through which Hibbert was passing. It was no time
+for cheering; it was a time of sadness--Paul, at least, felt so as he
+obeyed the message, and made his way to the sick-room.
+
+"Percival," came in a low, faint voice, as he entered.
+
+The face of the sick boy turned to him. Pale at all times, it now seemed
+bloodless, as white as the pillow upon which it rested. It seemed, too,
+to have shrunk, while the eyes had grown larger, and shone with a light
+which Paul had never seen in them before.
+
+"You were the first one he asked for when he came to his senses," said
+Mrs. Trounce, as Paul stepped softly to the bedside. "I think he's a bit
+better now; aren't you?"
+
+"Much better, thank you," said the boy, with a painful attempt to smile
+at her. Then the bright eyes went again to Paul's face and rested there.
+
+"I'm glad to hear that, Hibbert," said Paul, taking the thin hand in
+his. "You must make up your mind to get off that bed as soon as
+possible, mustn't he, Mrs. Trounce?"
+
+"Just what I tell him," said the matron, cheerfully, for she knew the
+value of cheerfulness on the spirits of a patient. "If he makes up his
+mind to it, he'll soon be about again."
+
+"It's astonishing what we can do when we set our teeth hard, and go for
+a thing," continued Paul, adopting her cheerful tone and manner.
+
+"That's what you did when you came to me and saved my life. Oh,
+Percival, it was terrible!"
+
+And the thin hand went to the eyes with a gesture of pain.
+
+"Terrible! Hooking you out of that river? That's what I call beastly
+ingratitude. I think it's one of the best things I ever did in my life."
+
+"No, no," cried the boy quickly; "don't think me ungrateful. I couldn't
+bear that. You don't think me ungrateful?"
+
+"Of course not. It's only my stupid way of putting things. All you've
+got to do now is to forget about the river, and everything connected
+with it. You're now on dry land--in a nice, warm, comfortable bed, where
+you needn't trouble about anything except getting well again."
+
+"Are the other fellows all right--Plunger and Moncrief, I mean?"
+
+"Right? Rather! Going stronger than ever, especially Plunger."
+
+"I'm glad of that. And--and the savages. Who were they?" asked Hibbert,
+with a shudder.
+
+"Can't you guess?" smiled Paul. "Nobody very dreadful. Three or four of
+the fellows of your Form--Bember, Baldry, Sedgefield, Viner."
+
+"I might have guessed it; but then I'm not like other boys. I'm such a
+coward--coward. I've fought against it so hard, but I can't get over it.
+I've tried to be brave--as brave as you are----"
+
+"Hush! Don't talk of bravery. You're forgetting the sand-pit. Don't put
+me on stilts, for I could never walk in them. We're just what God makes
+of us. There are plenty of thorns and thistles about, heaps of 'em; but
+not many sensitive plants. That's what you are Hibbert--a beautiful,
+sensitive plant."
+
+"Ah, you don't know what I am. If only I could tell you--if only I could
+tell you. You would hate me--hate me. Yes, Percival--hate me. You can
+call me a beautiful, sensitive plant, while all the time I'm a beastly
+hypocrite. Oh, why didn't you let me die--why didn't you let me go down
+in the river? Why did you save me?"
+
+He spoke with a sudden outburst of energy, raising himself, in his
+feverish excitement on his elbow.
+
+"Come, come! Master Percival will have to leave you, if you take on that
+way," said the matron.
+
+"Yes, I think I'd better go now and come again to-morrow," said Paul,
+alarmed at this sudden outburst, which he took to be a slight touch of
+delirium.
+
+"Don't leave me, Percival--don't leave me just yet!" pleaded the boy.
+"I--I was forgetting myself. I'll be quieter if you'll stay with me a
+little longer."
+
+The thin fingers slipped into Paul's hand again, and clung to it
+tightly.
+
+"I'll stay with you a little longer, if you'll just do what I tell you."
+
+"Yes, yes. What?"
+
+"Just close your eyes and try to sleep."
+
+Hibbert obeyed him implicitly. He closed his eyes, as though to sleep,
+but still held fast to Paul's hand. In a few moments the pressure
+relaxed, and he seemed to be really sleeping.
+
+"I'll watch over him for a bit, if you like," whispered Paul to the
+matron.
+
+Mrs. Trounce looked at her patient. He seemed tranquil enough now, and
+as she had other duties to attend to, she gladly availed herself of
+Paul's offer.
+
+"I'll be back as soon as I can," she whispered as she went out.
+
+She hadn't been gone more than ten minutes before Hibbert's eyes opened
+again.
+
+"Still here, Percival? It's very kind of you." Then, looking round:
+"Where's matron?"
+
+"Gone out for a bit. I've promised to look after you. Do you want
+anything?"
+
+"No--except you. Matron's really gone?"--looking round again.
+
+"What a suspicious chap you're getting!" smiled Paul. "Do you think
+she's hiding somewhere?"
+
+"I'm glad she's gone, Percival, because I wanted to speak to
+you--alone."
+
+"But you promised to sleep."
+
+"Well, I've kept my promise. I've had quite a long doze."
+
+"Very long--ten minutes."
+
+"I can't sleep longer till I've said what I've got to say. Doesn't it
+say somewhere in the Bible that we ought to confess our sins?"
+
+Paul could now see clearly enough that there was something troubling
+Hibbert, and that it would only increase the trouble if he were to
+refuse to answer him. So he answered:
+
+"Of course it does. Let me see--you must know the words as well as I
+do--'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our
+sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'"
+
+"Yes, those are the words I was trying to think of. I remember them
+quite well now. The water from the river seems to have got into my
+brain, and things aren't quite so clear to me now as they used to be,
+you see."
+
+"That will come all right presently, and things will be quite as clear
+to you as ever they were. But you mustn't worry, or else they won't."
+
+"I can't help it; but I shan't worry so much when what is on my mind is
+off it."
+
+"Shall I send for Mr. Weevil?"
+
+"No, no," answered the boy quickly; "it's you I want to speak to. Don't
+leave me."
+
+Paul did not move. He kept his place beside the bed, though he had no
+wish to hear any confession. He guessed what it was. Some boyish freak
+or escapade, magnified into undue proportion by the sensitive boy now
+that he was so weak.
+
+"I won't leave you, but if you've got anything to say, I'm not the
+fellow to say it to. There's One can do you a great deal more good than
+I can, Hibbert. Just confess to Him when you say your prayers to-night.
+He'll help you a lot more than I can."
+
+"Supposing I have done that, Percival. Supposing I did it when I closed
+my eyes a little while ago; and supposing even then a voice seemed
+whispering in my ear, 'If you want peace, if you want to meet your
+mother in heaven, act the hypocrite no longer. Speak to Percival.' What
+then?"
+
+"Then I should say use your own judgment. Do what seems best."
+
+Hibbert closed his eyes for a moment, as though he were trying to decide
+within himself what was best. At length he opened them again.
+
+"Do you remember that afternoon when I came to you in the writing-room
+and told you Mr. Travers wished to speak to you?"
+
+"Quite well. Nearly all the fellows had deserted me but you. I was
+wretched."
+
+"You looked it. You gave me a letter to post. Do you remember that?"
+
+"Yes," answered Paul shortly. He remembered it but too well. It was the
+letter he had written to Mr. Moncrief, to which that gentleman had not
+deigned to answer.
+
+"When I came back to you in the writing-room you were tracing names on
+the blotting-pad. I caught sight of one--Zuker. You noticed that I was
+surprised at seeing it, and asked me if I knew anybody of that name. I
+told you that I did. That I once knew a boy of that name when I was at
+school in Germany. And then you told me something I'm never likely to
+forget--never likely to forget to my dying hour. You may think it
+strange, but the words came suddenly to my ears when I fell off the raft
+into the river."
+
+"Indeed! What was it I told you?"
+
+"You told me that it was through a man of the name of Zuker that your
+father lost his life."
+
+"Yes, that's true enough. So it was--Israel Zuker. What about it?"
+
+"What about it!" Hibbert made a painful effort to laugh. "Why,
+Percival----"
+
+He stopped abruptly, as the door suddenly opened, and Mr. Weevil
+entered.
+
+"What, Percival! You here?" exclaimed the master. "Where is Mrs.
+Trounce?"
+
+"Hibbert wanted me to sit by him, and I'm taking her place for a short
+time. She'll be back presently, sir."
+
+"Are you feeling better?" asked the master, as he turned from Paul to
+the patient.
+
+"Oh, yes, much better. It's done me good to have Percival here."
+
+"I'm glad to hear it."
+
+Mr. Weevil's hand went gently, lovingly over the boy's brow, and he
+watched him anxiously through his half-closed eyes. Paul recalled the
+master's grief when he first saw the boy after the accident, and other
+little traits of kindness--traits which had shown him that Mr. Weevil
+was not altogether the stern, harsh man he had one time thought him.
+None the less, he was sorry that he had entered the room at that moment.
+Hibbert had awakened his curiosity. What was it that was weighing on his
+mind? What had he to tell him about the man Zuker? He wished Mr. Weevil
+had kept from the room a bit longer.
+
+Paul waited, hoping that he would go out. But the master did not move
+from the position he had taken up at the bedside, and his hand continued
+to move caressingly over the boy's forehead. After a minute or two's
+silence he turned to Paul.
+
+"You've had your fair spell of watching, Percival. I'll take your place
+till Mrs. Trounce returns. Hibbert looks very flushed and feverish. I'm
+afraid he's been speaking too much."
+
+What could Paul say? He had no alternative but to obey. Hibbert's eyes
+followed him as he went out.
+
+"What was it he had to tell me, I wonder?" Paul asked himself, as he
+passed along the corridor.
+
+It was a long time before he slept that night. His mind kept travelling
+back over the many events of a singularly eventful day. And when he at
+last dozed off to sleep, he could hear the voice of Hibbert sounding a
+long way off.
+
+"Oh, why didn't you let me die? Why didn't you let me go down in the
+river? Why did you save me? Don't leave me, Percival--don't leave me.
+I'll be quieter if you stay with me a little longer."
+
+Then the voice died away and all was blank.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR ARRIVES AT GARSIDE
+
+
+Two things, outside the ordinary school routine, occupied attention on
+the morrow. The first was the adventures which had so nearly cost
+Hibbert his life; the second the loss of the school flag. The report as
+to the condition of Hibbert was neither good nor bad. There was no
+improvement, but neither had he gone back. His condition, in fact, was
+just what it had been the night before.
+
+The loss of the flag caused the greatest excitement. The masters held a
+meeting about it, but nothing was done. The Sixth Form held a meeting
+about it, but nothing was done--for the simple reason that nothing could
+be done. So far there was not the slightest clue as to what had become
+of it. It had disappeared just as mysteriously as the pages torn from
+the Black Book.
+
+But in one thing there was a manifest change. A manifest improvement
+took place in the school's attitude towards Paul. Whereas previously
+nearly all the school was opposed to him, the greater proportion of the
+Garsiders now came over to his side with a swing; but his own Form, with
+the exception of Waterman, still held aloof. He received a communication
+from Stanley, however, through his cousin.
+
+"Stanley's sorry that he did not lend you a helping hand when he met you
+with Hibbert yesterday," said Harry. "He did not dream that anything
+serious had happened."
+
+Paul had felt it even more than he dared admit to himself that Stanley
+had not come forward on the previous day and given him a helping hand
+when he was struggling along with Hibbert.
+
+"How could he dream that anything serious had happened unless he
+inquired?" he asked, with some bitterness. "Did he really send that
+message?"
+
+"Really."
+
+"It's very kind of him. When you next see him say how obliged I am. It's
+nice to find people so thoughtful, though it may be a little late in the
+day."
+
+Harry felt uncomfortable. He could detect the accent of bitterness
+underlying the words.
+
+"Tell you what, Percival, I wish you and Stan were friends again, like
+you used to be. It's all through that beastly Beetle, Wyndham. I wish
+some one had stepped on him and squashed him first."
+
+"I don't. I can admire a plucky fellow when I see one, even though he
+happens to be a Beetle."
+
+Harry opened his eyes, and stared at Paul. Paul, annoyed at the
+second-hand message he had received from Stanley, and seeing the
+astonished expression on Harry's face, could not help adding: "Yes, I
+can admire pluck wherever I see it. I'm not quite sure whether Wyndham
+isn't worth half a dozen fellows here."
+
+Harry stayed to hear no more. A Beetle worth half a dozen Gargoyles! It
+seemed rank treason to listen to it. Paul felt a savage thrill of
+delight in praising Wyndham and seeing the consternation it had caused
+in Harry.
+
+"He will tell Stanley every word I have said. Getting his cousin to
+bring his mean, petty message. Didn't dream that anything so serious had
+happened, indeed! Pah!"
+
+Alas! alas! The breach between the two former friends, instead of
+closing, was widening.
+
+All the boys who had taken part in the raft incident were severely
+lectured by Mr. Weevil, and were debarred from the usual half-holidays
+during the next fortnight, as well as receiving a heavy number of lines
+to keep them busily occupied during the same period. Then the master
+went on to say:
+
+"Percival has done a brave act. He went to the assistance of Hibbert in
+a moment of extreme peril. He placed his life in jeopardy to save him.
+God grant that his act of bravery may not have been in vain!"
+
+Mr. Weevil paused for an instant, with closed eyes, as though he were
+praying; then, when he opened them again, it seemed as though the
+incident and all connected with it had passed from his mind, as, in a
+few cold words, he turned to the duties of the day.
+
+Paul was more than gratified with this brief allusion to what he had
+done, but he could not help noticing that no reference was made by Mr.
+Weevil to the part he had played in the rescue of Baldry and Plunger.
+His whole thought seemed centred on Hibbert.
+
+"Strange, his liking for the little chap," thought Paul.
+
+It was as though the master were trying to make up to the frail,
+deformed boy for the neglect of others. And whenever Paul now thought of
+him, it was not as he remembered him on that night when he had peeped
+through the dormitory window, and had seen him talking to Israel Zuker,
+but as he had seen him kneeling by Hibbert's bed and babbling to him
+tenderly in an unknown tongue.
+
+The next number of the _Gargoyle Record_ made various indirect
+references to the "Crusoe incident" in the editor's usual vein.
+
+"Missing Link has turned up in the neighbourhood of the river--latest
+mania--punting and desert islands.... Our poet is much obliged for the
+response given to his appeal in our last issue. He was stuck, it will be
+remembered, for a rhyme to 'hunger,' and the rhyme was to be a name of
+some kind--bird, beast, or fish. Curious to say, all our correspondents
+have hit upon the same rhyme and name.
+
+"Honour of the Fifth looking up a bit. Tarnished near sand-pit on
+Cranstead Common, it has just had a washing in the river. Better for its
+bath, though not yet up to its former lustre.
+
+"The Fresher of the Third who was prepared to give hints on the correct
+style in trousers, spats, and white waistcoats has thought better of it.
+Gave it up in order to get some experience of desert islands and punting
+in company with the aforesaid Missing Link. Experience disastrous and
+not likely to be repeated. Has since taken to stamp-collecting and
+ping-pong."
+
+Then, among the usual notices of "Lost, stolen, or strayed," appeared
+the following:
+
+"Pages from the Black Book still missing. Greatest loss of all--the old
+flag of the school. It waves over the school no longer. We have doffed
+the cap and bells, and gone into sackcloth and ashes. Our heart is
+heavy. We can smile no longer. We can only whistle one tune--the Dead
+March. Our heart will continue heavy. Our noble frontispiece will never
+beam again. Our lips will continue to warble the same melancholy tune
+until the old flag once more waves over Garside!"
+
+Stripped of its note of bombast, this last paragraph echoed pretty
+accurately the feeling of the Garsiders at the loss of their flag. Their
+pride had been more sorely wounded even than it had been by the affair
+at the sand-pit. They had been flouted and dishonoured, and, though no
+proof was forthcoming, they felt sure that this insult had been placed
+upon them by their rivals--at St. Bede's.
+
+Paul, meantime, had seen nothing of Hibbert since the day when his
+confession had been interrupted by Mr. Weevil. Frequently he recalled
+that strange scene--the boy's eerie-looking, pain-drawn face, the sad
+eyes fixed on his, the earnest voice, with its suppressed note of
+fear--as he began to unfold to him the secret that weighed upon his
+heart and conscience. It seemed so real, yet so unreal. The face looking
+up into his seemed real enough. It was the words he could not make sure
+of. Hibbert must have been wandering.
+
+At any rate, he had not sent for him since the afternoon he had spoken
+such strange words, and that was nearly a week since.
+
+"Of course, he was wandering, poor little chap, and has forgotten all
+about it by this time. I shall have a good laugh with him about it when
+he gets on his legs again," he told himself.
+
+It was the sixth day after the accident on the river that Paul was
+informed by Bax that a visitor wished to see him in the visitors' room.
+A visitor! Who could it be? Paul had very few visitors to see him.
+
+"Ah, it's Mr. Moncrief; come at last in answer to my letter!" he
+thought, as he made his way to the room.
+
+He was doomed to disappointment, however, for he found, on entering the
+room, that the visitor was a perfect stranger to him--a slim,
+wiry-figured gentleman, with a frock-coat buttoned closely over his
+chest, reddish-brown full beard, and glasses, through which a sharp pair
+of eyes at once went to Paul. Mr. Weevil was standing beside the visitor
+on the hearthrug.
+
+"This is the lad I spoke of, Mr. Hibbert--Paul Percival."
+
+The master briefly introduced them. Paul was at once interested. This
+gentleman with the tawny beard, and erect, alert, military bearing, was
+Hibbert's father.
+
+"I have only recently returned to England, and have but just heard of
+the accident that has befallen my son," said Mr. Hibbert. "You saved his
+life. I was anxious not to go before I had thanked you."
+
+He took Paul's hand in his, and pressed it hard. A boy less strong than
+Paul would have winced under that grip of steel.
+
+"I'm glad to know Hibbert's father."
+
+"And I'm glad to know Paul Percival. It isn't often one meets with a
+brave lad like you."
+
+Again he gripped Paul's hand, and seemed to be regarding him as keenly
+as ever through his glasses to see if he stood his grip without
+flinching.
+
+"I think you would find many who would do as I did--even here at
+Garside. It was my luck to be a good swimmer. And that luck--if I may
+call it luck--I owe to my father."
+
+"Your father taught you, you mean."
+
+"No," said Paul, shaking his head sadly; "I wish he had. He died when I
+was very young--when I could scarcely more than walk; but he was in the
+Navy, and it was by his wish that I was taught swimming. The saddest
+part is that he was drowned--drowned in saving another man's life."
+
+"Really? That is sad. I hope that the man whom your father saved from a
+watery grave was as grateful to him as I am to you."
+
+Paul was silent. He was thinking that if Mr. Hibbert's gratitude were no
+greater than the gratitude of the spy whom his father had saved from
+drowning it would not count for much.
+
+"I trust this will not be our last meeting. When my son gets well again,
+I hope to see more of you. Perhaps we may see a few of the sights of
+London together, if your mother has no objection."
+
+Paul thanked him and went out. He was glad that he had met Hibbert's
+father, though he was not a bit like the man he had pictured. He had
+somehow pictured him with something of the deformity that marked
+Hibbert, with the same sad, pathetic eyes; but they were as unlike as
+could be, except the voice. Hibbert's voice had somehow struck a
+familiar note when he first heard it. So did the father's. But there the
+resemblance began and ended.
+
+That same evening Paul went to the sick-room as usual, and inquired
+after Hibbert. This time Mrs. Trounce beckoned him in.
+
+"He's always asking after you, and it's cruel to keep you out," she
+whispered.
+
+"Who wants to keep me out?"
+
+"Mr. Weevil thinks it makes the lad feverish, but I asked the doctor
+expressly to-day, and he says it will do him good rather than harm to
+see any friend he asks for. Poor little dear, he hasn't many friends.
+His father didn't seem to care over much for him, and his visit was a
+short one. He asked after you directly his father was gone. I've been
+obliged to deny him all this time, but I can't deny him any longer. He's
+dozing now. Step softly to the bed. Won't he be pleased when he wakes up
+and sees you! I've never had a boy on my hands who is half so good and
+patient as he is--I fear he is too patient, poor dear."
+
+It was quite certain that during this time of trouble, Hibbert had found
+one more friend in Mrs. Trounce--the kind-hearted matron, who always
+tried to make the boys believe that she was a perfect virago with a
+heart of flint. Paul followed her on tiptoe to the bed and looked down
+on the sleeper. And as he looked, it seemed as though ice-cold fingers
+were clutching him by the heart-strings, so strangely still were the
+face and form of the little sleeper.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+HIBBERT FINISHES HIS STORY
+
+
+"Is he in pain?" whispered Paul, as he looked down upon the still
+figure, for Hibbert's face looked strangely old and worn for one so
+young, and it was as white as the pillow upon which it lay.
+
+"I don't think so, but I've noticed, Master Percival, that he always has
+that troubled look when he's sleeping, just as though he had something
+on his mind," answered Mrs. Trounce.
+
+Paul's mind went swiftly back to the last time he was in that room--to
+the confession Hibbert had begun and left unfinished. Was it that which
+was troubling him?
+
+"Does he sleep well?"
+
+"Not always like he's sleeping now. Often and often I've heard him
+calling you in his sleep, as I told you just now. I'm good enough for
+shaking up his pillow, giving him medicine, and that sort of thing, but
+I've found out that boys are strange critters to deal with. They want a
+lot of knowing, Master Percival, but I know 'em, and what Master Hibbert
+wants sometimes is one of his own school-fellows to talk to. That's
+better than medicine. Mr. Weevil's very kind to the boy, but he don't
+understand him."
+
+"Doesn't Mr. Weevil like my seeing Hibbert?"
+
+"Well, he hasn't exactly forbidden it, or I shouldn't have let you in;
+but he thinks you excited him when you were with him on the night of the
+accident. But, as I sez, Mr. Weevil don't understand boys when they're
+ill. When Mr. Colville was in charge it was different. He knew boys he
+did. I wish he was back again. Since he went away things have all gone
+wrong."
+
+Paul heartily echoed her wish. Garside was quite different from what it
+had been when Mr. Colville was there. He had hoped day by day that
+intelligence would come of his return; but the Head still remained in
+the south of France, too ill to attend to his duties at the school.
+
+Presently the eyes of Hibbert slowly opened. A glad cry came from his
+lips when they rested on Paul.
+
+"Percival, is it really you? I thought they were never going to let me
+see you again. Thanks, Mrs. Trounce; it's very kind of you."
+
+A faint tinge of colour came to the pale cheek; the look of pain had
+gone from the face. The sight of Paul seemed to have put new life and
+vigour into him. The matron promptly noted the change, and was very
+pleased that she had taken upon herself the responsibility of admitting
+Paul into the room.
+
+"There, there; you mustn't get excited, or I shall be blamed for letting
+Master Percival in to see you, and he won't come again, will you?"
+
+"Of course I won't," answered Paul promptly.
+
+"I'm not the least excited, only glad--glad--so glad!"
+
+He repeated the word three times, to make sure there might be no mistake
+about it, and his thin fingers closed round Paul's, as though he feared
+he might slip away.
+
+"I hope the other fellows haven't got into trouble through me?" he
+asked. "Mr. Weevil would never tell me anything."
+
+"Oh, no; they've got off very lightly, so don't worry about that.
+Plunger is going about as cheeky as ever."
+
+A faint smile flickered over the boy's face.
+
+"Plunger's rare fun. He was really just as much terrified as I was when
+Baldry and the other fellows turned up as Indians on the 'desert
+island.' I can laugh at it now, though I didn't laugh much then."
+
+He lay placidly with his hand in Paul's, then turned pleadingly to the
+matron.
+
+"Let Percival stay with me a bit. It'll do me good, and I'm sure you
+want a little change."
+
+Mrs. Trounce could see that the presence of Paul had worked wonders, so
+she had no hesitation in leaving the two together, giving Paul strict
+injunctions before doing so that he was to ring the bell in case she
+was needed. Immediately she had gone from the room Hibbert turned
+eagerly to Paul.
+
+"I've been waiting to go on with what I was telling you when you were
+last here, Percival. It has lain here--here!"--beating his breast. "It
+has kept me awake at night, and--and the time seemed so terribly long
+and dreary. I watched and waited for your coming, but though you came
+they would never let me see you. Mr. Weevil was the only one I could
+speak to, and I could not tell him what was on my mind."
+
+"Why not? He is very kind to you."
+
+"Why not--why not! When I've told you, you will understand."
+
+"You must not excite yourself. You must not talk. If you do I will ring
+the bell and bring back Mrs. Trounce."
+
+"You wouldn't be so cruel, Percival, when I've been waiting so long to
+see you and speak to you again. It's that kept me back, made me weary,
+and weak, and sick at heart. When I lay awake at night-time I kept
+saying to myself, 'If I should die without seeing Percival again,
+without telling him what is on my mind, God would never forgive me.'"
+
+"If all of us were as good as you, we should be a good deal better than
+we are, and God wouldn't have to forgive much," said Paul tenderly.
+"But, there, don't get excited, and I will listen."
+
+For Paul could now see clearly enough that Hibbert had really suffered a
+good deal of mental pain and torture through not being able to complete
+the confession he had begun to him.
+
+"Thanks," came the eager answer. "It will not take long, for I haven't
+much more to say. Let me see, where did I leave off? Oh, I was speaking
+about the man who was a spy on your father on that day Mr. Weevil
+entered the room, wasn't I?"
+
+"Yes--Israel Zuker."
+
+"I haven't forgotten the name," said Hibbert, with a painful smile. "I'm
+not likely to forget it--never, never, never! For--for it happens to be
+my name."
+
+"Hibbert!" cried Paul.
+
+"My name. Israel Zuker, the man who spied upon your father, and whose
+life he saved at the risk of his own, was my father."
+
+Paul staggered back, as though he had been smitten in the face. Hibbert
+the son of the German spy! Hibbert the son of Zuker! Impossible! He was
+wandering. The story he--Paul--had once told him about his own father,
+and the way he had lost him, had got on the boy's mind.
+
+"Ah, you shrink from me! I don't wonder at it!" cried Hibbert. "Didn't I
+tell you what a hypocrite I was--how wicked?"
+
+"No, no, Hibbert," answered Paul, taking again the hand he had let fall
+from him; "nothing you can say will ever make me shrink from you.
+But--but you have so surprised me. I cannot understand. Let me think for
+a moment--Israel Zuker your father. How can that be when your name is
+Hibbert?"
+
+"That is a false name. I told you once that I knew of a boy of that name
+in Germany. I was speaking of myself, for I spent three years of my life
+at a school in Heidelberg before I came here."
+
+"Then the man I saw this afternoon--the man who thanked me for saving
+the life of his son, was----"
+
+"Israel Zuker, my father--the man whose life your father saved, as you,
+his son, have saved mine. Now can you understand what I have suffered,
+Percival, by having this terrible secret on my mind? When I heard your
+story that day you don't know what I felt--what a mean, contemptible
+cad. I felt that I was a spy on you, just as my father had been a spy on
+your father--a spy on you, who had been so good to me. Oh, it was
+terrible! And then you saved my life, just as your father had saved my
+father's years ago. And that was heaping coals of fire on my head. I
+couldn't endure it."
+
+He covered his face with his hands. He was choking back the sobs that
+seemed of a sudden to convulse his frame.
+
+"I shall really have to ring the bell and send for Mrs. Trounce," said
+Paul firmly.
+
+The threat had its desired effect. Hibbert uncovered his face; the sobs
+died away in his throat. Then Paul put an arm round him, as he might
+have done round a brother, and said, in a softer key:
+
+"Look here, Hibbert--what your father may have done is no fault of
+yours. God only judges us by what we do ourselves; and that's all I want
+to judge you by. You've looked upon me as your friend; I want you to
+look upon me as your friend still. Haven't I said that nothing you can
+say will make me shrink from you?"
+
+"How good, how noble you are, Percival!"
+
+"Humbug! But listen to me--we're getting a little off the track. The
+gentleman I was introduced to in the visitors' room this afternoon was
+your father, Israel Zuker, you say?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Wearing a false beard, then?"
+
+"Yes. But how did you know that? Have you met him before?" asked the boy
+wonderingly.
+
+Paul now understood what it was in the voice of the visitor that had
+seemed familiar to him.
+
+"I met somebody of that name during last vacation, so I suppose it must
+have been the same," he answered, with pretended indifference; "but he
+wasn't wearing a beard. It's a good disguise. What's he afraid of?"
+
+"Well, he's obliged to. I'm telling you this as a secret, and I know I
+can trust you not to repeat it. My father's an agent of one of the
+foreign Governments, and he's obliged to put on a disguise sometimes to
+get information."
+
+"But what information does he want to get that makes him wear
+disguises?"
+
+"I never could quite make out, but I know it's to do with secret
+service. He once told me that every Government has secret service.
+That's all I ever knew."
+
+He seemed to have an uneasy suspicion that his father's profession was
+not a very honourable one, for his head sunk to his breast.
+
+"Is your father a friend of the master's--Mr. Weevil, I mean?"
+
+"Well, yes--more than a friend; but it's another secret I don't want to
+get about the school. Mr. Weevil would be very angry if it did, so you
+must promise me not to repeat it."
+
+And Paul, scarcely knowing all his promise meant, promised him. Then the
+boy leant very close to him and whispered: "Mr. Weevil's my uncle."
+
+This information was almost as startling and unexpected as the
+information that had preceded it. As it fell from Hibbert's lips, Paul
+almost feared that the door would open and Mr. Weevil would walk in,
+just as he had walked in before.
+
+"Your uncle!" he repeated.
+
+"Well, it's this way, you see. My mother was English. She was the only
+sister of Mr. Weevil. I know he was very fond of her, for I've heard
+mother say that he was a good brother, and that she was the only one for
+whom he had a greater love than he had for science. My father first met
+her when he used to give lessons in German and French--he knows three or
+four languages--at the school where Mr. Weevil was master before he came
+here. I think my father was then what they call a refugee. My mother
+died three years ago; then I went to Heidelberg again, and last of all I
+came here. You remember the day--at the opening of the term."
+
+Remember the day! Paul was never likely to forget it. He remembered
+every incident in connection with it--Hibbert coming to him in the
+grounds, the insult put upon him by Newall, and the other incidents that
+followed.
+
+"I remember," he said gravely.
+
+The door opened as he spoke, and Mrs. Trounce entered.
+
+"What, sitting up!" she cried, for Hibbert was still sitting, with the
+arm of Paul gently supporting him.
+
+"Yes; I feel so much stronger and better," he answered brightly.
+
+"I'm glad to hear it, but I think you'd better lie down now. If Mr.
+Weevil came in now he would have a fit."
+
+Paul thought it highly probable such a catastrophe would happen if the
+master had any suspicion of what Hibbert had told him. So he gently laid
+the patient down again.
+
+"You'll come again, Percival?" he pleaded.
+
+And Paul promised.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
+
+
+The revelation that Paul had heard in the sick-room overwhelmed him. It
+was not till he was in the open air that he realized what it all meant.
+The foreign spy, for whom his father had sacrificed his life--the man
+who, in turn, had tried to steal from him the packet which had been
+entrusted to him by Mr. Moncrief--Hibbert's father! Was he standing on
+his head or his heels?
+
+Again he could feel the night wind on his face as he galloped along the
+road to Redmead; again he saw himself confronted by Zuker and his
+confederate; again he felt himself rising in the saddle and bringing
+down his whip on the man's face; again he felt the thrill of joy that
+leapt through his veins as he escaped from the clutches of his pursuers,
+and bounded once more along the road; and then--then that feeling of
+despair when Falcon suddenly sank to the ground, and he found that the
+noble horse was dying. This man, the man for whom his father had died,
+the man who had so relentlessly pursued him on the road to Redmead, the
+man who had caused the death of Falcon--this man of all men Hibbert's
+father, the father of the boy whom he had watched over and protected
+ever since he came to Garside, the father of the boy he had loved as a
+brother, and whom he had risked his own life to save, even as his father
+had risked his life to save the life of Zuker so long ago!
+
+It was indeed staggering. No wonder he hastened into the fresh air.
+Spiders seemed spinning webs about his brain. He could neither see nor
+think clearly.
+
+"Where am I standing?" he asked himself, and simple as the question was,
+it was not so simple to answer, for the world seemed suddenly
+topsy-turvy.
+
+Gradually the night air swept away the cobwebs, and he began to see
+things in a clearer light. This man Zuker was a spy still; nothing had
+changed since the day he had been found in his father's cabin, except
+perhaps that he had grown more daring. A spy! What did that mean? It
+meant that he was a menace to honest people, a danger to England, a
+danger to the peace and weal of the country which had given Paul
+birth--the country for which so many of his relatives had given their
+lives, the country which he loved. There could be no quarter for such a
+man. The longer he was at large the greater the danger.
+
+"He's in my power completely. A word from me will send him to prison,"
+Paul said to himself. "To prison he shall go this very night."
+
+Full of this determination, Paul turned to the gate. It was a couple of
+miles to the police-station, but what of that? He would soon cover the
+distance, and be back again at Garside. So he started on his journey
+with a run. He had not gone far, however, before a still, small voice
+began to whisper plaintively in his ear. It was the voice of
+Hibbert--the pleading, pathetic voice that had become so dear to him.
+
+"Paul, Paul! Are you forgetting the promise you made to me so soon? Was
+it for this I told you my secret? Reveal my story to the police, and you
+will kill me--kill me, as surely as though you were to thrust a knife in
+my breast."
+
+That was what the voice seemed saying to him. Paul pulled himself up
+with a jerk. What was he about to do? Betray Hibbert, the poor boy who
+had entrusted him with his secret! Betray Hibbert, who had clung to him
+and loved him through good report and evil, who had never shrunk from
+him when one by one the boys at Garside had shrunk from him as from a
+leper! God help him! What was he about to do?
+
+He was about to turn back when that other voice whispered to him: "Your
+country first and foremost. You have a higher duty than the duty you
+owe to Hibbert--the duty to your country. Besides, this boy's father
+betrayed your father. Why should you shrink from betraying him? Eye for
+eye, tooth for tooth. Pay back the debt that has been owing so long."
+
+Paul hastened on again, but again he paused as another voice--a voice
+that was full of wondrous and sublime melody--sounded in his ear:
+"Vengeance is mine, I will repay."
+
+It seemed to him as he stood there in the moonlight, the stillness so
+great and solemn that he could hear his heart throb, that God had
+spoken. The danger to his country was not so great that it called upon
+him to give up the secret which had been entrusted in confidence to his
+keeping.
+
+He could not be true to himself or his country by being false to
+Hibbert!
+
+He would wait. Hibbert would get better. If the danger became real, he
+would lay bare his breast to Hibbert as Hibbert had laid bare his breast
+to him. He would tell him, fairly and honestly, why he could no longer
+keep his secret; then Hibbert would be able to warn his father, and he
+would be able to flee from the country he had sought to betray.
+
+Paul felt easier when he had come to this decision. It seemed to him
+that he had divided his secret with God, and that he was now acting as
+He would have counselled him.
+
+And surely His hand had been in it from the first--from the hour when
+he, Paul, had been shielded from his pursuers in his ride to Redmead to
+the hour which had brought the son of his pursuer to a sick bed, and
+induced him to pour his strange confession in his ear. Nay, could not
+the hand of God be seen in it still farther back, from the very hour
+when, at the risk of his own life, Paul's father had sacrificed his own
+life for the life of his enemy? Even at that time the hand of Providence
+must have been at work weaving the strange events which were still
+unfolding themselves.
+
+Paul was on the point of turning back as these thoughts flitted through
+his mind when the sound of a footstep caused him to draw back hastily
+into the shadow of the hedge. Scarcely had he done so than a tall, lean
+figure, with head thrust forward, passed quickly by. It was Mr. Weevil.
+
+"Where is he off to, I wonder?" thought Paul.
+
+The master had been so concentrated in his thoughts that he had no
+suspicion as to who was in hiding by the roadside. Paul's memory at once
+went back to the last part of Hibbert's story--the part which he had
+almost lost sight of in the overwhelming interest of the first part. Mr.
+Weevil was Hibbert's uncle--Zuker's brother-in-law.
+
+Were they in league together? Paul's glance followed Mr. Weevil along
+the road. An overmastering desire seized him, a desire that he could not
+resist. Instinctively, as one in a dream, he followed in the footsteps
+of the master. Presently they reached Cranstead Common. Instead of
+turning in the direction of the sand-pits, the battle-ground of the
+Bedes and the Garsiders, Mr. Weevil turned to the left--to that part of
+it which was more thickly wooded--where there were trees and
+furze-bushes and bramble in wild profusion.
+
+"Where on earth can he be going?" Paul asked himself wonderingly.
+
+Well might he ask, for it was scarcely possible to imagine a wilder or
+more solitary spot. It led to no habitation, none at least that Paul was
+aware of, and he was pretty familiar with the common.
+
+"He can't be on a visit to any one, unless it be the pixies, or
+creatures of that sort," thought Paul. "P'raps he's thinking out some
+scientific problem, and finds this wild part the best place to do it
+in."
+
+He paused for an instant. What was the use of going farther? He was on a
+wildgoose chase, but still the overmastering impulse which had led him
+to follow Mr. Weevil held him in its grip and would not let him turn
+back. So he went on in close pursuit of the shadowy figure in front of
+him.
+
+"Why, he'll be getting to the river presently. Perhaps that is what he
+is making for?" thought Paul as the master plunged deeper into the
+thicket.
+
+The river skirted the far side of the common, and it was precisely in
+that direction Mr. Weevil was travelling. He had never once looked to
+the right or left, so absorbed had he been in his thoughts, but now he
+suddenly paused and looked back.
+
+Paul had just time to hide himself in the friendly shelter of a tree. He
+stood there for an instant, then peeped out from his hiding-place. He
+caught one glimpse of Mr. Weevil, and then, to his amazement, he
+disappeared from view as completely as though the earth had opened and
+swallowed him up.
+
+Paul rubbed his eyes. What was the meaning of it! Where had the master
+disappeared to? Had he been following some phantom, or had Mr. Weevil
+really sunk through the ground? Paul advanced to the spot. There was
+apparently nothing there but bushes. Again and again he pondered on the
+strange disappearance of the master and was unable to account for it.
+
+"Well, if that isn't one of the strangest things I've ever seen," said
+he to himself. "Mr. Weevil was there a minute since, as large as life
+and twice as natural. Now he's gone."
+
+A feeling of awe stole over Paul. Mr. Weevil had always seemed a strange
+being, a man quite by himself, and different from ordinary beings. Had
+his dealings with science taught him some dark secret by which he could
+make himself invisible? But Paul quickly dismissed this wild idea from
+his mind. The days of miracles were past. Whatever Mr. Weevil's
+knowledge of science, it did not lend itself to feats of magic worthy of
+the genii in the enchanted realms of _The Arabian Nights_.
+
+None the less, where was he? What had become of him? Paul examined the
+bushes as closely as the darkness would permit, but could find no trace
+of the master. He stood still and listened. Save for a light breeze that
+was moving gently among the trees, there was no sound. It was as quiet
+as the grave.
+
+"My word! That's one of the greatest mysteries I've ever struck,"
+thought Paul. He withdrew a pace or two, and took up his position
+beneath a decayed elm. Possibly Mr. Weevil might make his reappearance
+in the same mysterious way in which he had disappeared. He waited a few
+minutes, but his patience was not rewarded. Nothing happened.
+
+Paul began to fear that he might be locked out unless he hastened back,
+so he reluctantly retraced his footsteps, determined to visit the spot
+at the earliest opportunity.
+
+He got back to Garside without mishap or incident, but when he lay down
+to rest that night it was not to sleep. He could not help wondering what
+had become of Mr. Weevil, and whether he had spent a night on Cranstead
+Common. He was still thinking when the school clock chimed the hour of
+midnight. About five minutes later he heard a quiet footstep in the
+corridor.
+
+"That's Mr. Weevil," he said to himself. "I am quite sure. I could swear
+to his footsteps anywhere."
+
+He listened till they disappeared in the corridor, then he turned on his
+pillow, and tried to sleep. But he did not succeed for a long time. The
+events of that night had banished sleep.
+
+The next day Mr. Weevil was at his post as usual, and closely as Paul
+watched him he could see nothing unusual in his demeanour. He was as
+grave as ever--the eyes opened and closed in the same manner, most
+wakeful when they seemed most sleepful; and he was as prompt and
+diligent as ever in the discharge of his duties in the school.
+
+"Was it all a dream?" Paul asked himself, as his mind went back to what
+had happened on the previous night.
+
+As that afternoon was a half-holiday, he had some idea of paying a
+second visit to the spot, and continuing his examination of it. But he
+remembered that there was a still more important duty before him. He had
+pledged himself in the presence of Sedgefield and his companions that he
+would get back the school flag, and that once again they would see it
+flying from its old place on the turret.
+
+So far, he had done nothing to redeem his pledge. Those Third Form
+fellows who had cheered him so lustily would think there was no meaning
+in his words, that his boast was an empty one. The time had come for him
+to do something to make good his promise.
+
+He would begin to carry out his plan that very afternoon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+HOW THE OLD FLAG WAS TAKEN FROM GARSIDE
+
+
+At this, the commencement of another chapter, we may as well take the
+opportunity of explaining to the reader the secret which had caused so
+much excitement at Garside, namely, what had become of the school
+flag--who had had the audacity to capture it.
+
+It will be remembered that one of the Bedes who always took an active
+part in opposition to the Garsiders was Mellor. The fact that he had
+been at one time a Garsider made him keener to "score off" his old
+companions, and he was ever to the fore in any enterprise for that
+purpose. But the great idea which possessed his mind, to the exclusion
+of most others, was the capture of the Garside flag. He knew that
+everybody in the school was proud of it. He himself had been proud of it
+when he was at Garside. The school flag at Bede's had no such history.
+It was just an ordinary flag, with a white shield in front, the initials
+of the school, and the school motto, precisely after the fashion of the
+school cap.
+
+So it came about that ever since the day Mellor had been set upon by his
+old companions, and made to crawl on all fours as "a Beetle," the idea
+had come to him that he would like to inflict upon Garside the greatest
+blow that had yet been inflicted upon it by gaining possession of the
+old flag. He thought of it by day, and he thought of it by night; but
+day followed day, and night followed night, and there seemed little
+chance of carrying out his purpose.
+
+There was only one boy at St. Bede's to whom he confided his secret, and
+that was his dormitory companion and chum--Edward Crick. Crick was
+about the same age as Mellor, with the same love of sport, the same
+wiliness, and the same indifference to consequences when once an idea
+had taken possession of him. And that's just what happened. When Mellor
+confided to him his secret, the idea possessed him, and he was just as
+keen on carrying it out as Mellor. If between them they could only get
+possession of the Garside flag, it would be one of the greatest
+achievements in the history of the school.
+
+They knew well enough that it was impossible to obtain possession of the
+flag by open assault. There was only one way--by taking the enemy
+unawares--by stealing a march upon them when it was least expected.
+
+Now, it was clear enough that in order to accomplish this purpose one of
+them would have to steal into the school at Garside and get to the west
+turret unobserved. Audacious as the scheme was, both were anxious for
+the honour; but after discussing the point for some time, Mellor gave
+way to Crick. Mellor was well known at Garside. He would be at once
+stopped were he found entering the school, and questioned as to what he
+had come for. Crick was unknown to the porter, and little known to most
+of the boys. The main thing was to provide him with one of the Garside
+caps. It so happened that Mellor had retained his old cap. There were at
+least twenty other boys of about the same size and age as Crick in the
+school. With the school cap on his head it would be easy enough for him
+to slip into the grounds during one of the half-holidays when most of
+the boys would be on the playing-fields. If any one did notice him, he
+might pass muster as a new boy.
+
+For the rest, Mellor was acquainted with every detail of the school
+building, and gave Crick precise information as to the best and surest
+methods to reach the west turret; so that Crick, as the result of this
+information, knew almost as much about the building as Mellor.
+
+Everything having been thus clearly planned, it only remained to put the
+plan into execution. To this end Garside had been carefully reconnoitred
+by the two boys at every opportunity that offered--that was to say, on
+every holiday. The opportunity they sought at length came--on that
+afternoon when Plunger and his companions were so busily engaged in
+playing the part of Crusoe. On cautiously approaching the school, the
+two confederates found that it was almost deserted. Crick thereupon
+boldly entered the grounds, with the Garside cap on his head and the
+collar of his sweater up, just for all the world as though he belonged
+to the school.
+
+A door at the rear of the building led through a narrow passage to the
+stairs leading to the turret. Crick was not long in finding the door,
+just as it had been described by Mellor.
+
+Entering it, he quickly mounted to the turret, and reached the trap-door
+leading to the roof. It had not been raised for some time, and Crick did
+not find it easy to open; but putting his head to it, and forcing it
+upward with the full strength of his body, it at length opened amid a
+shower of dust, and the next minute Crick was through it and on the
+roof.
+
+His heart beat loudly as he saw only a few yards from him the old flag
+flying from its staff. He did not lose his head, however. He knew well
+enough that, though he had succeeded in reaching the turret, his
+presence there might be detected at any moment. Any one passing along
+the grounds might chance to glance up.
+
+So, lying flat on the roof, he took a careful survey of the scene below.
+An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips; he could not help it. He
+felt like Cortez, the famous discoverer, when, with an eagle eye, he
+gazed for the first time on the Pacific from a peak in Darien. The
+Gargoyles in the playing-fields looked like so many pigmies darting
+between the goal-posts. Beyond them stretched the roadway leading to the
+common; to the left he could plainly see the glint of the sun on the
+river. He little dreamt what was happening there, even as he gazed.
+
+Turning in another direction, there was an almost uninterrupted expanse
+of country till the distance was broken by the spire of St. Bede's
+rising from a background of hills. He never imagined that it would be
+possible to see St. Bede's from Garside. He had thought the distance too
+great, but now the two schools, seen from that vantage ground, seemed
+ridiculously near.
+
+Crick remained for some time lost in the view; then a clock chiming the
+quarter recalled him to his purpose. He glanced again in the direction
+of the playing-fields. There was nothing to fear in that direction. The
+Gargoyles were too much occupied in their game to pay any attention to
+the roof. Crick drew himself nearer to the flagstaff.
+
+Slightly raising himself from his position on the roof, he lifted it
+from its socket, and, possessed of the prize for which he had risked so
+much, drew it quickly beneath the trap-door.
+
+[Illustration: "SLIGHTLY RAISING HIMSELF FROM HIS POSITION ON THE ROOF,
+CRICK LIFTED THE FLAGSTAFF FROM ITS SOCKET, AND DREW IT QUICKLY BENEATH
+THE TRAP-DOOR."]
+
+"Got it!" he cried, with a thrill of joy, as he glanced at the old,
+discoloured flag which had seen so much service--"got it!"
+
+Quickly rolling it round the staff, he next drew from under his sweater
+a cover of American cloth, which he wound in turn round the flag and
+staff, till nothing could be seen of them. No one could have told what
+the cloth concealed. It looked like a bundle of fishing-rods.
+
+Descending the stairs as cautiously as he had ascended them, he once
+more reached the door leading from the turret stairs.
+
+"Now for it," he thought, bracing himself up.
+
+He had only to get outside the grounds and reach the place where Mellor
+was awaiting him. He crept round the side wall, and was just about to
+hasten through that part of the grounds which lay between him and the
+road, when he drew back suddenly. A boy was staggering along in the
+direction of the schoolhouse with a burden of some sort in his arms.
+
+"My stars! Another moment and he would have seen me!" thought Crick,
+with a breath of relief. "What's he got in his arms, I wonder? Looks
+like another chap, as though they'd been in the wars together."
+
+It was Paul, hastening to the school with Hibbert. In another minute he
+had passed by where Crick was hiding. Then Crick heard voices. It was
+Paul speaking to Waterman at the school door. The listener caught the
+word "accident." The next moment Waterman darted past him. The coast
+being again clear, Crick promptly followed in Waterman's footsteps. He
+was not long in reaching the hedge behind which Mellor was awaiting
+him.
+
+"Got it?" was the eager question.
+
+"Yes. Look!"
+
+Mellor could have shouted with joy. Was it possible that the flag was
+actually in their possession?
+
+"Bravo, Crick! It's the biggest thing we've ever scored over the
+Gargoyles. My! won't they be savage! There'll be no holding them in when
+they find their flag's gone. But what's up? There's been an accident of
+some sort."
+
+"I know there has. I nearly ran into a fellow who was carrying a kid in
+his arms. Luckily I pulled up in time. Who were they--do you know?"
+
+"One was Percival, the fellow who skedaddled from Wyndham at the
+sand-pit. I don't know the kid he had in his arms, he must be a
+fresher."
+
+"A fresher! He wasn't much of a fresher to look at. He looked like a
+drowned rat."
+
+The two returned to St. Bede's by the longest but less frequented way,
+and at length reached it without further adventure. They determined to
+hide the flag for the time being, and to confide the secret to their own
+Form only--the Fourth.
+
+The Fourth was very jubilant, as may be imagined, at the feat performed
+by Crick and Mellor, who were at once looked upon as heroes. The flag,
+meanwhile, had been hidden in a barn, standing in a field near St.
+Bede's, belonging to a father of one of the day boys in Mellor's Form.
+
+Frequently they met in the barn, and withdrawing the flag from its
+hiding-place, stuck it in the centre of the floor, and danced round it
+like a band of wild Indians celebrating a victory.
+
+Things were at this pass when Paul came to the decision to visit St.
+Bede's, to see if he could obtain information as to the missing flag.
+Plunger and Moncrief minor happened to be out on an expedition of their
+own that afternoon on Cranstead Common. Plunger caught sight of Paul as
+he turned the bend of the road leading to St. Bede's.
+
+"That was Percival, I'm pretty well sure of it," he cried. "Didn't you
+see him?"
+
+"No. By himself?"
+
+"Isn't he always by himself? But let's make certain."
+
+The two boys ran to the roadway and glanced along it. There, sure
+enough, was Percival striding quickly along in the direction of St.
+Bede's.
+
+"Where's he making for? For the seminary of the crawlers, seems to me,"
+said Plunger. "Queer sort of chap! What can he want up there?"
+
+Harry did not answer. He recalled the afternoon when he had seen Paul
+speaking to Wyndham. He had tried to forget that incident, and along
+with it the incident that had happened at the sand-pit. He had tried to
+think only of Paul's heroism on the river when he had saved the lives of
+three of his school-fellows. He had cheered him as heartily as the rest
+on that day when Baldry had called for "Three cheers for Percival!"
+After, as we have seen, he had tried to heal the differences between his
+cousin and Percival; but now all the old suspicions came back with a
+rush.
+
+"Yes; what can he want up there? Supposing we find out. There can be no
+harm in watching him."
+
+Plunger, as we know, had the bump of curiosity largely developed, and
+his curiosity to know what Paul was doing at St. Bede's caused him to
+forget, perhaps, that in playing the spy he was not altogether making
+the best return in his power to one who had risked so much to save him
+from a watery grave.
+
+So he at once fell in with Harry's suggestion, and the two, keeping in
+the background, followed in the footsteps of Paul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+FRIEND AND FOE
+
+
+Paul, unconscious that he was being followed, pressed forward to St.
+Bede's. As he drew near a boy came from the gates. Paul recognized him.
+It was Murrell, one of the seniors at St. Bede's, who had taken part
+with the others in hustling and jibing at him the last time he came in
+that direction.
+
+Murrell caught sight of him almost simultaneously, so that it would have
+been impossible for Paul to avoid him had he wished.
+
+"Hallo! Turned up again, have you?" cried the youth, coming to a dead
+stop in front of Paul. "I thought you'd had enough of these parts the
+last time you were here. But p'raps you enjoy ragging. There's no
+accounting for tastes--specially the taste of a Gargoyle. Look here, if
+I were you I would cut!"
+
+"I don't think you would. If you were me you would stand your ground,
+and that's what I mean doing," smiled Paul.
+
+"You're jolly cheeky, Gargoyle! Now, look here, take the advice of one
+who wants to do you a good turn--cut! There are a lot of the Bedes
+hanging about, and if they happen to get hold of you, there won't be
+much left of you, I can tell you! Are you insured?"
+
+"No."
+
+"My stars! I wouldn't like to be standing in your shoes--I really
+wouldn't! Tired of life--eh? That's why you're poking your head into the
+lion's den--eh?"
+
+"Wrong again--quite wrong. I've come to see one of your fellows who's
+been very kind to me--Wyndham."
+
+"Oh, Wyndham! The one you ran away from at the sand-pits?"
+
+Paul winced under the jibe. He had not yet got over that weakness.
+Murrell was regarding him curiously. No answer coming from his victim,
+he spoke again:
+
+"You want me to fetch Wyndham?"
+
+"If you would be so kind."
+
+"Well, if you don't take the cake--likewise the bun, and the biscuit! A
+Gargoyle has the superb cheek to ask a Bede to be his errand-boy! Stands
+Scotland where it did? Is the world going round, or is it standing
+still? Am I standing on my head or my heels? Now, then--your last
+chance! If you don't want to go back in pieces, take it!
+Going--going--gone!"
+
+"I don't intend going till I've seen Wyndham," said Paul firmly. "If you
+won't do me the favour I ask, I must keep on till I find some one a
+little more courteous."
+
+He was about to pass on, when Murrell stopped him with a friendly pat on
+the shoulder.
+
+"All right! You needn't get into a wax! You're not such a bad sort of
+fellow, after all, for a Gargoyle! Wait here! Shan't be long!"
+
+His tone had suddenly changed, and before Paul could say anything
+further he was gone. Paul was so astonished that he could scarcely
+believe the evidence of his eyes and ears. In an instant Murrell's
+attitude had changed from a threatening to a friendly attitude. Was it
+meant to mislead him? Had he no intention of going for Wyndham? Did he
+mean instead to acquaint some of the boys who had previously set on him
+of his arrival, so that they might carry out the purpose which they had
+been forced to relinquish? This view seemed certainly the more probable
+of the two, and therefore Paul was very agreeably surprised when, a
+couple of minutes later, he saw the well-known figure of Wyndham coming
+from the college gates towards him. His handsome face lit up with a
+smile as he caught sight of Paul.
+
+"Percival," he said, as his hand went out to him, "I'm so glad to see
+you! So was Murrell."
+
+"So was Murrell!" repeated Paul. "You wouldn't say so if you knew the
+reception he gave me just now. You're joking?"
+
+"No; I was never more serious in my life. As a Bede, he was bound not to
+be over-polite to a Garsider; but he thinks a good deal more of you than
+he did, and so do most of us--all through Murrell. Why? Well, he
+happened to catch a glimpse of what happened on the river a week or so
+ago--came up at the tag-end, but heard all that had happened from some
+of the other fellows on the bank. Murrell and many more here are
+beginning to think that you are too good for a Gargoyle, though you
+didn't cut such a grand figure at the sand-pits. They're beginning to
+believe what they wouldn't swallow at the time--that you're one of the
+bravest fellows at Garside. To think that I'm the only fellow who knows
+how brave! Why don't you let me speak and set you right?"
+
+"No, no, Wyndham! You're very good; but it mustn't be. There are reasons
+against it which you will know some day. But there is a way in which you
+can serve me."
+
+"What way? If I can help you, be sure I will."
+
+Paul thereupon told him the additional misfortune that had happened at
+Garside on the afternoon the boys fell into the river in the loss of the
+school flag. Wyndham listened to the story attentively. He did not speak
+till Paul had ended.
+
+"You mean to suggest, I suppose, that some of the fellows here took the
+flag?"
+
+"To speak frankly, I do; but I know well enough that you've not had a
+hand in it."
+
+"Thanks for your good opinion; but I don't know that I deserve it. After
+all, why shouldn't I have had a hand in it? The fellows here look upon
+you as the enemy, and you look upon us in the same light. Haven't we a
+perfect right to get possession of the enemy's flag if we can?"
+
+"Yes; in fair and open battle. But this wasn't in fair and open battle;
+it was a theft."
+
+"That's rather a hard word, Percival. It's as good as saying some one
+here's a thief!"
+
+Wyndham spoke with greater warmth than Paul had ever heard him speak.
+For the first time he saw an angry light in his eye.
+
+"Forgive me, Wyndham! I've hurt your feelings; I can see that I have.
+And you are the last in the world I would do that to. I'll withdraw
+theft. Let's call it strategy."
+
+The cloud vanished like magic from Wyndham's face.
+
+"That's a very polite and nice way of putting it, Percival," he smiled.
+"You're a great deal more considerate of my feelings than I am of yours.
+I tell you what"--his face became serious again--"it's done me a lot of
+good since I knew you; since I was able to open my heart to you and tell
+you about the little brother who was taken from us years back. I've
+often wished that I was at Garside to stand by you. It must be very
+lonely for you over there."
+
+"No, indeed; it's far from lonely, but sometimes it has been very, very
+hard to bear. If Moncrief had only stood by me, and all the rest of the
+school had been against me, I would not have minded; but----"
+
+"Ah, do not speak of that! It makes me miserable. It gave me a savage
+delight at the time to fight that fellow. It made me a hero here; but
+since I've begun to think a little I feel very far from a hero myself.
+It would have been far better had I never fought. It has made bad blood
+between you and Moncrief; it took from you your best friend, and set
+your school against you. It did worse than that; it has widened the
+breach between St. Bede's and Garside, and deepened the old feud, which
+was beginning to die out. And now that it has been stirred into a flame
+again, it will take longer than ever to die out."
+
+He paused for a moment, as though deep in thought. Paul, too, was busy
+with his own thoughts. He knew not how to answer him.
+
+"Don't speak against yourself, Wyndham, for it pains me a great deal
+more than it pains you. I owe you a lot for the help you gave me on that
+night I went to Redmead; but there's one other debt, greater than that
+even, of which I have never spoken. Speaking just now of your little
+brother has brought it all back to me."
+
+"Speaking of my brother?" repeated Wyndham, with that tremor in his
+voice which had fallen so pathetically on Paul's ear when he had first
+spoken of the dead boy.
+
+"Your brother Archie. I haven't forgotten the name, you see, and I have
+never forgotten--never shall forget--the story. I had never tried to
+understand younger boys till then. We bigger boys rarely do, I'm afraid.
+We think them only good for cuffing and fagging; so there's never much
+sympathy between us. When we pass to the upper forms we only remember
+the cuffs and kicks we got in the lower forms, and think it our duty to
+pay them back with interest. But your story--the story of your dead
+brother--stuck in my memory. I carried it back with me when I returned
+to Garside after vac. The first little chap I came across was a
+fresher--a poor, weak, lonely little chap, who hadn't a chum in the
+school. I thought of your brother. My heart went out to the boy, and I
+said to myself: 'By God's help, I'll stand by you; and I'll be your
+friend!'"
+
+"That was noble of you!" said Wyndham, clasping Paul's hand in his. "Who
+is the little chap? Is he still at Garside?"
+
+"Still at Garside!" repeated Paul, in tones that had died away almost to
+a whisper. "He's the little chap I fished out of the river."
+
+"Ah, then, you've nobly redeemed your promise. You saved his life."
+
+"I cannot say. He is still in bed--still very weak; but the link between
+us kept me strong when all Garside was against me. Once or twice it
+seemed more than I could stand, and I had serious thoughts of throwing
+up the sponge and clearing out of Garside. What was there to keep me
+there? Then I thought of Hibbert, and the thought made me strong again.
+So I kept on, and weathered the storm--or, rather, am still weathering
+it. The thought of the little chap kept me to my duty."
+
+Once more there was silence between them. Wyndham had tucked his arm in
+Paul's. The two were walking along the road to Cranstead Common. The
+bond of sympathy between them had grown stronger and stronger during
+those brief moments in which they had bared their hearts to each other.
+
+"About this flag," broke in Wyndham. "Do you know for certain that it's
+been taken by some fellow here?"
+
+"No; it's only a suspicion. I may be wrong, but I don't think I am."
+
+"When was it missed?"
+
+"On that afternoon when the accident took place on the river. It was a
+half-holiday at both schools. It was waving over the turret when I left
+the school; it had gone when I came back."
+
+"That's over a week ago, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The fellow who took it must have had plenty of pluck. Well, if I can do
+anything in fairness to get you your flag back again, I'll do it; but at
+present it's as great a mystery to me as to you."
+
+The two shook hands and parted.
+
+Plunger and Harry had crept through a hedge, and witnessed a good deal
+of the interview that had taken place between the two, without hearing
+anything. When the two passed down the road--Wyndham with his arm linked
+in Paul's--Plunger and Harry prepared to follow them; but before they
+could move a step they were seized by the legs and thrown to the ground.
+
+"Those Gargoyles!" The words were enough. They were in the hands of the
+enemy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+THE MYSTIC ORDER OF BEETLES
+
+
+To the bewilderment of Plunger and Moncrief minor they found themselves
+in the grip of four figures, with masks somewhat after the fashion of
+those worn by motorists. They had been taken so completely by surprise
+that they made no attempt at resistance. If they had it would have been
+useless, for their captors held them firmly by both arms, and rushed
+them breathlessly across the field as far as possible from the roadway.
+
+"St--stop it, will you?" Plunger at length found breath enough to
+stammer. "Oh--oh!"
+
+The last exclamation was caused by a sharp dig in the ribs, which
+brought his question to an abrupt conclusion. Inspired by Plunger's
+example, Harry thought that he might also venture on a question.
+
+"Who--who are you? And--and--where are you taking us?"
+
+An answer was conveyed to him in the same forcible manner in which it
+had been conveyed to Plunger; but, though the dig in the ribs made him
+gasp, it did not altogether silence him.
+
+"Crawlers--wretched Beetles--that's what you are! Oh, oh, oh!"
+
+A dig in the ribs from both sides effectually closed Harry's lips for
+the time being, while the pace at which his captors took him along was
+increased to such a rate that he could scarcely keep his feet. At length
+they stopped before a barn, and the foremost of the four captors knocked
+upon the door three times with his knuckles.
+
+"Who's there?" came a voice from within.
+
+"Four of the Brethren," answered the youth who had knocked.
+
+"Are you alone?"
+
+"No; we have brought two novices who are anxious to be introduced to the
+mystic order."
+
+Plunger began to prick up his ears. The mystic order? What mystic order?
+And what were they going to do with them?
+
+"Two novices who are anxious to be introduced to the mystic order?" came
+the voice from within. "They wish to become brethren?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"N--n--no!" came in a gasp from Plunger's lips; but another sharp dig in
+his ribs reduced him once more to silence.
+
+"Yes, most worthy K. O. P. They are dying to become brethren of the
+noble band."
+
+"I say, you unkind Beetles," began Harry. "Oh, oh!"
+
+He was silenced by the same unfailing method which had just been brought
+to bear upon his companion.
+
+A short conversation took place between the masked figure who had acted
+as spokesman and the person within. At the end of it the former turned
+to his companions.
+
+"Blindfold the novices. The Keeper of the Portal has commanded it."
+
+Keeper of the Portal? That, then, was the meaning of the initials "K. O.
+P." thought Plunger.
+
+It was getting more and more mysterious, but he did not like the idea of
+being blindfolded. What were they going to do with him--with Moncrief?
+At first he felt inclined to resist, but a sharp twist of the wrist soon
+convinced him that resistance was useless. Harry had come to the same
+conclusion, so they submitted with the best grace they could to bandages
+being placed round their eyes. Then they heard the door open and the
+voice of the "Keeper of the Portal" commanding them to enter.
+
+They entered. As they did so, Plunger thought he heard some one
+sniggering, and again a wild idea crossed his mind that he would strike
+out and make a desperate effort to escape from his captors; but the
+instant he moved he was brought to a standstill by the energetic
+measures which were now becoming painfully familiar to him.
+
+The sniggering, if sniggering it was, soon ceased, and then a strange
+silence reigned in the barn. The silence was a great deal worse to
+Plunger than any amount of ridicule. Who were in the barn? What was
+happening?
+
+He strained his ears to the utmost. He could hear the sound of
+mysterious footsteps walking stealthily to and fro, but no one spoke. He
+stood there and shivered, though the perspiration was oozing from his
+forehead. Was some desperate plot on foot against them? The footsteps
+ceased. All was again so still that he began to think the barn had been
+deserted and that he had been left in it blindfolded, to make his way
+from it the best he could. He was about to call out to Harry when a
+voice he had not yet heard called out sharply:
+
+"Gargoyle with the eyebrows, what is thy name?"
+
+Gargoyle with the eyebrows!
+
+"S'pose that's meant for me," thought Plunger, "but I'm not going to
+answer such impudent questions."
+
+"The noble president speaketh. Answer, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch,"
+came a voice in Plunger's ear, accompanied by a sharp kick on the shins.
+
+Gargoyle with the eyebrows! Gargoyle with the wiry thatch! Was there
+ever such insolence? But that kick on the shins told Plunger that to
+raise any protest would only bring upon him worse punishment, so he
+stammered out:
+
+"Fre--Frederick Pl--Plunger."
+
+"Plunger! Thy name is worse than thy face."
+
+Plunger heard sniggers on every side at this reference to his name, of
+which he had always been very proud.
+
+"It's such an uncommon one, you know," he had often said to his cronies
+at Garside. And now the wretched crew into whose hands he had fallen
+were trying to make fun of it. He bubbled over with indignation, but
+simmered down on hearing similar questions put to his companion in
+misfortune.
+
+He was aroused from these reflections by hearing the chief of the band
+exclaim, in tones of command:
+
+"Make fast the portal!"
+
+He heard the sound as of a rusty bolt being thrust into its socket.
+
+"I say, you chaps," he protested, beginning to feel alarmed again as he
+heard this ominous sound, "I wish you'd stop your larks and take this
+wretched thing from my eyes. If you'll just oblige me, I won't give you
+away--I really won't."
+
+"We're going to take the bandage from thy eyes, but first thou must
+promise, on the banner of our Noble Order, to become a comrade and a
+brother."
+
+"I--I promise," stammered Plunger, anxious only to get the use of his
+eyes again.
+
+"Thou must promise also, by the same sacred emblem, never to reveal what
+thou dost see."
+
+"I--I promise."
+
+The same questions were put to Harry, who was just as anxious as his
+companion to see what was going on, and thought that no possible harm
+could be done in following Plunger's lead. So he gave the same promises.
+
+The bandages, however, were not immediately removed. The two boys could
+hear the sound of footsteps moving round them, and voices chanting in
+some unknown tongue what seemed to be a mysterious incantation.
+
+"Remove the bandages," commanded the chief, when this curious
+incantation, of which the two prisoners could make nothing, had ended.
+
+At this command the bandages were removed. The scene that presented
+itself to the astonished eyes of Plunger and Harry was one of the most
+extraordinary they had ever witnessed. Their four captors seemed to have
+disappeared. Standing around them in a circle were what appeared to be
+eleven beetles standing erect on two legs, instead of crawling about on
+four. On the breast of each was a letter, which, being white, stood out
+prominently from the dark background, and gave to this singular circle a
+still more singular appearance. The letters made up the following:
+
+     M. O. OF BEETLES.
+
+in other words--The Mystic Order of Beetles.
+
+Plunger rubbed his eyes. Was he awake or sleeping? He was wide enough
+awake, but he could not at once grasp the situation. What did it all
+mean?
+
+The reader has doubtless made a better guess at what had happened than
+Plunger. It was in this way. Mellor and Crick, the two boys who had
+gained possession of the Garside flag, had found a good deal of
+amusement at first in making surreptitious visits to the barn, and
+dancing round their capture, but they soon began to long for something
+more exciting. Truth to tell, the capture had not made the sensation in
+the ranks of the enemy they had anticipated--so at least it seemed to
+them. They had expected early reprisals, but none had come. So, after
+they had performed a war-dance round the flag with their companions five
+or six times, Mellor yearned for something more exciting. So did Crick.
+So did the others.
+
+"The Gargoyles don't seem to worry much about the flag after all," said
+Mellor, thoughtfully wiping his brow, after the last of these spirited
+exercises round the Garside standard.
+
+"Not a bit. Seems to me they're only too glad to get rid of the wretched
+thing," remarked Finch, one of the boys who had been envious of the
+daring capture.
+
+"Are they? That's all you know, Finch," retorted Mellor, angry that his
+remark should be taken so literally. "If we could only see them, we
+should find them tearing their hair and gnashing their teeth."
+
+"Then why don't they come after their property and try to get it back
+again?"
+
+"Because they don't know for certain who's got it. They're lying low."
+
+"Well, we'd better do the same. I can't see much fun in hopping round
+the wretched rag. Why the Gargoyles should make so much of it I can't
+make out."
+
+"That's because you've never been at Garside. I dare say if we'd been
+left a flag like that by an old school-fellow who had made a name for
+himself, we should have been as proud of it as they are. It was worth
+getting just to set those bounders back a bit. I should like to see you
+do what Crick did, Finch!"
+
+There were murmurs of approval at this, and Finch subsided into silence.
+Nevertheless, when Mellor began to reflect, there seemed to be a good
+deal of force in Finch's observation. There wasn't much fun, after all,
+in hopping round "the wretched rag." So he thought of a way to improve
+matters. Once or twice the idea had occurred to him of establishing a
+society calling itself the "Mystic Order of Beetles," and using it for
+the benefit of the rivals who had bestowed upon them so contemptuous a
+title.
+
+Directly he mentioned it to his companions it was hailed with
+enthusiasm.
+
+What could be better than making some of those wretched Gargoyles eat
+humble pie under the very flag they were so proud of? So amongst them
+they designed an appropriate costume for the "Mystic Order of Beetles,"
+and the meeting-place and dressing-room were arranged in the barn.
+
+So the society was started. Having started it, the next thing was to
+capture some of the enemy. In order to accomplish this interesting
+purpose, a band of scouts was established for the purpose of reporting
+on the movements of the enemy at the first favourable opportunity. It so
+happened that this was on the very day that Paul went to Wyndham to make
+inquiries about the flag.
+
+The scouts were rather disappointed when they found, from their post of
+observation on the other side of the hedge, that the boy making his way
+to St. Bede's was Percival. There had been already one trial of strength
+with him which had not been entirely successful. Besides which Wyndham
+had championed his cause, and they were bound to respect Wyndham's
+opinion. Furthermore, the fame of Paul's heroism had reached St. Bede's,
+as the reader has seen, and they had lost their former contempt for him.
+They were therefore on the point of turning disconsolately away when
+their eyes were gladdened by the sight of Plunger and Harry following
+Paul.
+
+Here were the prizes they had longed for. The enemy was delivered into
+their hands.
+
+So the scouts had carried off their prisoners to the barn, where their
+comrades were waiting them. What followed we have seen.
+
+Plunger and Harry looked on the extraordinary circle which surrounded
+them in wonder. No word fell from the Beetles. They stood perfectly
+still, as though enjoying the surprise which their extraordinary
+appearance had created in the breast of their prisoners.
+
+"I say, you are a rum lot!" Plunger at length burst out. "Mystic Order
+of Beetles! Ha, ha!"
+
+He burst into a wild fit of laughter, but his laughter was suddenly
+checked by a resounding thud upon the shoulders. He then discovered that
+the Beetles standing around him were armed with sheepskin bladders
+attached to sticks. They did not hurt much, but the noise they made was
+considerable.
+
+"Silence! Thy mirth is unseemly," came from the chief of the circle, who
+was no other than Mellor. "Remember, that thou hast been admitted to the
+Mystic Order of Beetles, and hast promised by the sacred emblem above
+thee to be true to the cause."
+
+The sacred emblem above! The prisoners looked up. There was a flag
+hanging from the roof of the barn--a tattered flag. Plunger rubbed his
+eyes. Surely it was the old flag--the flag of Garside?
+
+"Why--why--that's--that's----"
+
+"Silence!"
+
+The bladders came down in a perfect shower on Plunger's head and
+shoulders. As for Harry, he could not speak. The sight of the flag had
+smitten him dumb.
+
+"Thou hast promised to be true to the cause," repeated the chief
+solemnly. "Should'st thou ever dare to break the vow, thou wilt be
+haunted for the rest of thy life--haunted sleeping and waking by the
+Beetles thou hast betrayed! Describe the mystic circle."
+
+Describe the mystic circle! What in the name of wonder was that? The
+bladders descended upon Plunger as he stood in the centre of the ring
+with his companion, wondering what was expected of him.
+
+"I--I don't know any mystic circles," he stammered in despair.
+
+"On hands and knees--quick!"
+
+Plunger hastened to obey the command.
+
+"Crawl round the mystic circle three times."
+
+Plunger would have refused had he dared, but he dared not; so, amid a
+good deal of suppressed laughter from the Beetles standing round him, he
+crawled round the circle three times.
+
+"Rise, brother!" commanded Mellor, when he had accomplished this feat.
+
+Plunger gladly sprang to his feet.
+
+"Give him the mystic tap."
+
+Thwack--thwack came the bladders on Plunger's devoted head. And Plunger
+almost regretted that he had risen. Harry went bravely through the same
+ordeal. This accomplished, the Beetles joined hands, and galloping
+wildly around the two boys, chanted:
+
+    "Beetles of the mystic band,
+    Wind we round thee, hand in hand;
+    Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call
+    Rest not, pause not, hither crawl;
+    Or to the realms of creepy-crawley,
+    Shivery-shaky, we will haul thee!"
+
+As this incantation went on, Plunger and Harry had a lively time inside
+the mystic circle. By the dexterous application of a knee or a shoulder,
+Plunger would be sent with a run in one direction, while Harry would be
+sent flying in another. They were whirled about from this side to that
+like indiarubber balls. Then of a sudden they would find themselves
+closely embracing each other in the centre of the ring, only to be
+sundered again, and sent flying in another direction.
+
+At length the "Brethren of the Mystic Order" stopped breathless, much to
+the relief of Plunger and Harry.
+
+"Keeper of the Portal conduct our newly-made brothers to the door."
+
+The Keeper of the Portal, Crick, conducted them to the door.
+
+"The time has come to say farewell--for the present," said Mellor, as
+they all gathered round the door. "Don't forget that thou art pledged to
+us by the bonds of our noble order. In token whereof, give them the
+mystic wallop."
+
+The bladders came down with a resounding thwack on the newly-made
+brethren, during which the Keeper of the Portal opened the door. Plunger
+and Harry darted through. Roars of laughter followed them, but they did
+not look back. They did not pause till they were well on the road to
+Garside.
+
+"I say, Moncrief minor," said Plunger, drawing up breathless, "we've
+dropped in for a fine thing."
+
+The same idea had occurred to Harry, but he was not so ready to admit
+it.
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Why, we've joined hands with the enemy--the Beetles. There's no getting
+out of it."
+
+"I suppose there isn't," answered Harry gloomily.
+
+They walked on in silence for a few moments. Then Harry glanced round,
+as though half fearful that some one was following, and whispered:
+
+"I say, Plunger."
+
+"Well, what is it?"
+
+"Did you notice the flag we were standing under?"
+
+"The flag we were standing under?" repeated Plunger innocently. "Well,
+not particularly. What was it like?"
+
+"Like! I believe it was the school flag!"
+
+"You don't say so. Never!"
+
+"I'm positive it was."
+
+"The school flag? This is awful! Couldn't you have let me know? What a
+duffer you are! I would have sacrificed my life to get that flag! I
+wouldn't have stood their nonsense like I did had I thought that was our
+flag. I would have fought them till my last breath. Why--why didn't you
+let me know?"
+
+"I thought you did know."
+
+"And to think that I crawled to them--crawled, with the flag of the old
+school looking on. It's nothing to you--you're only a fresher from
+Gaffer Quelch's; but to me, Plunger, it's--it's----" Not being able to
+find a word strong enough to express his meaning, Plunger suddenly
+turned on Harry again. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Moncrief
+minor, letting me make such an ass of myself."
+
+"How could I help it, Freddy. They made an ass of me too."
+
+"There you go again, always poking your wretched self in. What does it
+matter to you? You don't count at Garside. I do--that's the difference.
+I wish you wouldn't look at these things from such a selfish point of
+view. You're always thinking of yourself--a miserable fresher, as I've
+said, from Gaffer Quelch's. If it ever gets about the school that I've
+been made a Beetle under the Garside flag, what will the fellows think
+of it? I shall never hear the last of it. I shall be roasted all round."
+
+"And serve you right, too!" cried Harry, losing his temper. "A jolly
+good roasting will do you good. It'll take some of the bounce out of
+you. If it hadn't been for you, we shouldn't have got into this mess."
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Plunger hotly.
+
+"It was all through playing the spy on Percival. If it hadn't been for
+following him, those Beetles wouldn't have got hold of us."
+
+"Come, that's good. Your cheek's superb. That's the only thing you seem
+to have brought with you from Gaffer Quelch's. Who was it suggested we
+should follow Percival? Was it me, I should like to know, or one of the
+little prigs from Gaffer Quelch's?"
+
+Harry could not immediately respond. He had forgotten for the moment
+that the suggestion to follow Percival had come from him. But after a
+moment's reflection he answered lamely:
+
+"Yes; but it was you who caught sight of Percival as he was on the road
+to St. Bede's and put the suggestion in my head."
+
+"Well, of all the bosh----Oh, shut up, or put on a strait-waistcoat.
+You're getting dangerous," said Plunger crushingly, seeing that he had
+"scored."
+
+Harry, indignant with himself, Plunger, and all the world, went on
+ahead. But after a bit Plunger caught up to him.
+
+"You needn't get into a wax because I set you right just now. I flatter
+myself there aren't many chaps can score over me when I choose to set
+about them. It's not your fault that you've got too much of Gaffer
+Quelch's seminary for boys and girls about you. I had it for the first
+term at Garside, but I soon grew out of it. And you'll grow out of it,
+too. Fact is, Harry, neither of us is to blame for falling into the
+hands of the Philistines--Beetles, I mean. Let's put the blame on the
+right shoulders."
+
+"And the right shoulders are----"
+
+"Percival. It was through following him we fell into that beastly trap,
+and it seems to me--though I don't like to say it--that Percival has a
+good deal to answer for. What was he doing at St. Bede's? What was he
+doing with that fellow, Wyndham, who knocked about your cousin so
+unmercifully at the sand-pits? Did you notice what good terms they were
+on--Wyndham with his arm tucked through Percival's."
+
+Harry had seen it all, and as Plunger was speaking he recalled that
+other scene he had striven so hard to forget--when he had seen Percival
+and Wyndham together near the school. He had tried to put that from him,
+especially since the heroism Percival had shown on the river. But now it
+all came back with a rush. There was not the slightest doubt that
+Percival and Wyndham were on terms of friendship. No one who had
+witnessed the scene that he and Plunger had witnessed could question it.
+What did it mean? There was something behind it all.
+
+"Yes, I noticed it, Freddy," he slowly answered. "It puzzles me, and I
+don't know what to make of it." Then looking up quickly, as though a
+sudden suspicion had come to him, he blurted out: "I say, is it possible
+that--that----No, I can't say it--it's too horrid."
+
+"Out with it. There's no one to hear you but me. Remember, we're both in
+the same boat."
+
+"No one to hear me but you," said Harry, looking quickly round. "And I
+shouldn't like anybody to hear but you; it's a horrid suspicion that
+came into my mind just now. There must be something between Percival and
+Wyndham, that's certain. I've tried not to believe it; but it's no use
+trying to shut our eyes to facts. Can it be that Percival's plotting
+against his own school, can it be that he is betraying us to the
+enemy--those beastly Beetles?"
+
+"Funny! Just the same thing's been running through my mind. Can it be
+that he's betraying us to the enemy, and can it be"--here Plunger's
+voice dropped to a whisper, as though he feared the very hedges might
+overhear him--"that it was he who hauled down the school flag and handed
+it over to the Beetles?"
+
+"No, no; I can't believe that," cried Harry, clasping his hands over his
+face, as though to blot out the suspicion.
+
+"And I've been trying not to believe it, but what else are you to make
+of it? A Beetle couldn't have got to the turret and taken the flag off
+his own bat. There must have been some one helping him who knew all
+about the school. If it wasn't Percival, who was it? What are we to
+think after what we've seen?"
+
+So it came about that while Percival had been doing his best to trace
+out where the school flag had gone, so as to return it to its old place
+of honour on the turret, the suspicion came into the minds of these two
+boys that he was betraying the school.
+
+Even at the moment that this suspicion was born, Paul was sitting by the
+bedside of Hibbert, with the boy's hand in his. Hibbert had been
+talking, but the tired eyes, which shone out so brightly from the wan
+face, had begun to close. Yet the hand still held fast to Paul's. And as
+Paul looked down lovingly on the face, he murmured to himself the words
+he had spoken to Wyndham that afternoon--"The link between us kept me
+strong when all Garside was against me."
+
+And Paul had need of strength, for the battle had not yet ended.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+A REMARKABLE DISCOVERY
+
+
+The improvement in the school's attitude to Paul did not last long. The
+Garsiders who had come over to him with a swing, for some reason swung
+back with the same alacrity. The juniors who had cheered him to the echo
+in the dormitory now passed him without a word.
+
+Fortunately, Paul's mind was too much occupied just then with other
+matters to take much notice of this change. First and foremost in his
+thoughts was Hibbert. Would he pull through? The progress he made was
+very slow--if, indeed, it could be called progress. One day he seemed
+stronger, the next found him as weak as before. A curious thing had
+happened on the afternoon Paul returned to the school after his
+interview with Wyndham. Mr. Weevil had sent for him to his room. Paul
+thought that it was to reprimand him for something or other. He was
+agreeably surprised, therefore, when the master motioned him to a chair,
+and in a kindly voice, altogether unlike his "school voice," bade him
+sit down.
+
+"I understand that you've visited Hibbert once or twice," he began,
+regarding Paul through his half-closed eyes.
+
+"Now it's coming," thought Paul. "He's going to forbid me visiting
+Hibbert." Then, aloud: "Yes, sir. I hope you've no objection."
+
+"I did object at first to visitors of any kind, because I thought it
+would do the lad more harm than good. But I think the objection may be
+withdrawn as far as you're concerned."
+
+Paul could scarcely believe his ears. Had he heard Mr. Weevil aright?
+
+"He seems to look forward eagerly to your visits, more than to the
+visits of anybody"--a sigh, so slight as to be almost imperceptible,
+escaped the master's lips. "It would be cruel to debar the poor little
+fellow from any pleasure we can give him. Therefore, Percival, I hope
+you will understand that you are quite at liberty to visit him when you
+feel inclined."
+
+"It is very kind of you, sir, and I am deeply grateful."
+
+"You will be careful, of course, not to make your visits too long, or
+not to unduly excite him."
+
+"Oh, yes, sir; I'll be careful of that."
+
+Paul rose to go, thinking the interview at an end. As he did so, the
+master placed a hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"You have been very good to the boy--God will reward you! The fear
+sometimes oppresses me that he will not get over this illness."
+
+The half closed eyes were blinking in a curious fashion. Indeed, Paul
+saw what was suspiciously like a tear slowly making its way down the
+cheek of the master. His emotion was no longer a mystery to Paul.
+Hibbert's revelation had thrown a light upon it. He now knew that the
+man whom he had regarded as without emotion--as one wrapped up
+completely in his equations and scientific formulae--had yet a deeply
+human side. Hibbert was the son of his dead sister, and he loved
+him--loved him with a love that was a hundred times greater than that
+which the boy's own father had ever bestowed on him. And Paul learnt a
+lesson in that brief interview which he never forgot--that lying deep
+down in the hearts of most men, sometimes overladen by rust, sometimes
+in the midst of decay, may frequently be found a vein of purest gold.
+
+"Don't say that, sir. He was looking better the last time I saw him. He
+will pull round as soon as he can get out a bit."
+
+"I hope your words will come true, Percival; but he's so frail. If he
+were only strong like you--but there, it's useless talking. It must be
+as God wills." Then his voice changed to its old frigid tone.
+
+"You can go, sir."
+
+Thus abruptly dismissed, Paul went out.
+
+"Weevil's a puzzle," he said to himself. "I'm as far off knowing him as
+ever I was; but there seems to be some warm blood in him, and that's
+something. I thought he was all pothooks and hangers at one time; but he
+can't be as bad as that. That shows you shouldn't go by appearances.
+He's not half as black as I painted him."
+
+Paul was very pleased that he could now visit Hibbert without
+restriction, and that same night he visited him, much to the boy's joy,
+and sat by his bed, as we have seen, till he slept.
+
+Thus it was Paul took little heed of the school's attitude towards him
+for the next few days. Then an incident happened which was to absorb his
+attention still more. Thinking of Mr. Weevil, and his recent interview,
+his mind went naturally back to that evening when, devoured with
+curiosity, he had followed him to Cranstead Common. The more he thought
+of it, the more he wondered what could have become of him on that night
+he had so strangely disappeared from view before his very eyes. The
+ground had not swallowed him up, for he had returned to school that same
+night. What, then, was the meaning of it?
+
+Paul had promised himself that he would make an effort to find out; so,
+as he had heard nothing from Wyndham, he seized the first opportunity
+that occurred to visit that part of the common where the master had
+disappeared. He followed the trail which the master had pursued in the
+direction of the river until he came to the thickly-wooded part where
+the trees, furze-bushes, brake, and bramble grew in wild profusion.
+
+This was the spot where he had lost sight of him. At first Paul could
+see nothing but the brambles. Examining the place more minutely, he
+found the bushes curiously divided in the centre. Feeling beneath them,
+his hand came in contact with cold iron. It was a ring, attached to a
+circular piece of wood, rusty and moss-grown, so that in appearance
+there was little to distinguish it from the undergrowth. He found little
+difficulty in moving it.
+
+He thought at first that it would prove to be the entrance to a well,
+similar to the well in the ruins where he had hidden on the night he had
+fled from Zuker; but to his amazement he discovered that it was no
+well, but led to a sloping tunnel cut in the sandstone. That then was
+the place where the master had so suddenly disappeared. For what
+purpose? And where did it lead? It was impossible to tell without
+exploring it. Should he make the venture? Should he enter it?
+
+Paul hesitated for a moment, but only for a moment. The next he entered
+the tunnel, cautiously drawing over the lid which concealed it. The
+passage in which he found himself sloped downward, and was at first
+scarcely large enough to allow him to walk upright. Little of light
+penetrated into it, and he had, therefore, to walk cautiously along,
+like a blind man, making sure of every step he took.
+
+Presently the path seemed to broaden. Extending his arms to their full
+extent Paul could just feel the walls on either side. He proceeded still
+more slowly, straining his ears to catch the sound of footsteps. All was
+silent. It was the silence of the tomb.
+
+"My stars, what a queer place! I wish I could only strike a light, so as
+to have a peep at it," thought Paul. "What can Mr. Weevil do down here?
+It isn't a cheerful place, even for a man who happens to be very much in
+love with his own society."
+
+He came to a sudden pause. What was the use of exploring the tunnel
+further? He could see nothing, hear nothing. So where was the use of
+groping along in the darkness? It was folly, especially when he might be
+precipitated at any moment into some hidden chasm. But folly though it
+might be, Paul could not turn back. A mysterious voice within him seemed
+to be urging him on. If Mr. Weevil had passed along that tunnel in
+safety, why shouldn't he? It must have an outlet somewhere, and Paul
+grew more and more curious to find out what that outlet could be.
+
+"I feel very much like an explorer in darkest Africa," he smiled to
+himself. "Shall I be coming across an unknown lake presently, or a race
+of pigmies? Hallo! What's that? Light at last."
+
+Light it was but of the faintest. It came with a faint streak into the
+tunnel. The darkness was only darkness before, but now fantastic shadows
+seemed to menace Paul at every footstep he took. Feeble though the
+light was, it was enough to show him that the tunnel had broadened
+considerably. Stepping warily along, the light grew stronger at every
+step, until he at length discovered that the path along which he was so
+cautiously travelling led into a cave lit with oil-lamps.
+
+Then he came to a sudden pause again, and his heart beat wildly against
+his ribs, as he caught the sound of voices. The cave was not empty.
+There was some one inside. Who?
+
+As he approached nearer he saw that a curtain was partly drawn over the
+entrance. Paul knew that a false step might betray him.
+
+To lessen the risk of detection, therefore, he crawled on hands and
+knees to the curtain, and eagerly peered through the space nearest the
+wall.
+
+The cave looked quite warm and comfortable. A fire of anthracite, which
+sent out plenty of heat but no smoke, burnt on a hearth cut out of the
+sandstone. Two or three lamps suspended from the roof diffused an
+Oriental glow, while several warm bear-skin rugs were scattered over the
+ground.
+
+A couple of guns and two or three cutlasses were hanging on the wall;
+and what was more astonishing to Paul, several maps and designs. The
+nature of these it was impossible for him to ascertain. He further
+noticed that in one niche of the wall was a photographic camera. In
+another were ship models, in the third the models of torpedoes, engines,
+and machinery of various kind.
+
+Paul had taken all this in at a glance. He had not yet seen the
+occupants of the cave, but there appeared from what he could hear, to be
+only two. They were conversing in low tones at the far end, where the
+lights from the lamps dimly penetrated. After a while the conversation
+became more animated, and the two moved to a table at the centre.
+
+"I think we've succeeded in quieting suspicion," said the foremost of
+the two. As he spoke the light from the lamp fell full upon his face.
+
+It was Zuker, the German Jew!
+
+Paul's glance turned from him to the other man. It was Brockman, the
+burly ruffian who had seized the bridle of Falcon on the night of his
+flight to Redmead--the ruffian who struck the blow which caused the
+gallant horse's death.
+
+"We've succeeded in calming suspicion for the time being," Zuker was
+saying, "and that is a great point in our favour; but still we must move
+cautiously. A false step, and down would fall all my plans like a house
+of cards. We've been very near discovery once or twice, the nearest was
+when that youngster got ahead of us with the packet. You remember?"
+
+"Remember! I'm never likely to forget it," said Brockman. "I could never
+understand how it was the youngster slipped through my fingers."
+
+"Well, it doesn't matter so much as it has turned out, for those
+Admiralty men--the Hansons--have gone to sleep again. They think that
+danger is passed, that Zuker, the man they so fear and dread, is out of
+England."
+
+He chuckled softly to himself. Paul grew colder. He knew well enough the
+youngster they were referring to, no one better, for it was himself. It
+was quite clear that the letter he had sent from the school to Mr.
+Moncrief had never reached him. A staggering suspicion flashed into his
+mind. He recalled that he had entrusted the posting of that letter to
+Hibbert. Could it have been that Hibbert had failed him, or worse, could
+it have been that Hibbert had deceived him? Was he not the son of Zuker?
+But the suspicion only dwelt in his mind for one brief moment, and he
+felt indignant with himself that it had rested there so long.
+
+How could he doubt Hibbert, the one boy at Garside who had so clung to
+him and who was at that moment lying on a bed of sickness?
+
+"Heaven forgive me!" he said to himself; then he caught the voices of
+the men as they again spoke, and listened eagerly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+THE "FOX-HOLE"
+
+
+"They really believe you're out of England. You're quite sure of that?"
+questioned Brockman, in his thick, guttural voice.
+
+"As sure of it as you're standing there," answered Zuker. "The search
+for me went on actively for a fortnight, and then dropped. How should
+they suspect a hiding-place like this? How should they suspect that when
+the hounds were in full chase of the fox, he had a hole to retreat to
+where they could never follow?"
+
+"Ha! ha!" chuckled Brockman; "we ought to call it the Fox-Hole. I only
+wish we had the youngster in it who slipped through my fingers that
+night on the road to Redmead."
+
+"Do you really?" said Paul to himself. "Well, the youngster's obliged
+you, and yet you don't seem to be grateful to him."
+
+"_Zut! zut!_ Don't worry about him. He's only a cipher--a pawn in the
+great game we have in hand. If we win, it'll be for a prize worth
+winning--fame and fortune," went on Zuker, as he strode to and fro with
+rapid strides. "Yes, fame and fortune, and we shall have dealt a
+staggering blow at a country that we hate. The risk is great, but the
+stakes are greater still, and each day makes our position surer."
+
+"Surer? Do you think so? Sometimes it seems to me, master, that we're
+standing on the very edge of a deep precipice, and that one day we shall
+make a false step, and then----"
+
+Brockman did not finish the sentence, but gave a significant shrug of
+the shoulders which was much more eloquent than words.
+
+"Das ist recht--that is right; I have never hidden from you the danger.
+It is true that one false step might spoil all my plans, but that only
+makes the game more worth the winning. And listen, Brockman, we must not
+make that false step. We made one on that night we let the boy get
+through with the cipher to Redmead. We must not make another."
+
+Paul's ears tingled as he listened. Notwithstanding the peril in which
+he stood, his heart beat with joy. The words of Mr. Moncrief came back
+to him: "You have not only done a great service for me and my brother,
+Paul, but for your country." He had almost forgotten those words in the
+whirl of events that had since happened at Garside, but now they came
+flashing back, shining out vividly as a beacon in the darkness around
+him.
+
+"No; we must not make another," answered Brockman, sending his fist
+vigorously into the palm of his hand to emphasize his words. There was
+silence between the two for a moment, then it was again broken by Zuker.
+
+"Those ancestors of yours were dull dogs, Brockman, but there must have
+been some grit in them to have got up to Chatham. See, they got to this
+point." Paul could see that a chart was spread out upon the table, and
+that Zuker was pointing with his finger to a place on it. "Here is the
+River Medway, which, as you know, can be reached through this tunnel."
+
+The river through that tunnel! Was he awake or dreaming? Paul could
+scarcely believe the evidence of his ears. His heart thumped so loudly
+against his ribs that he feared the conspirators might hear him.
+
+"A chain had been drawn across the river, for all England was in a state
+of alarm at the approach of the Dutchmen," went on Zuker.
+"Fortifications had been added to Sheerness and Upnor Castle just here."
+
+Brockman bent over the chart and followed the finger of Zuker.
+
+"Just there. And the chain--what happened to the chain?"
+
+"Sheerness was first taken, and then, taking advantage of a spring tide
+and an easterly wind, the Dutch broke the chain."
+
+"Broke it? But wasn't it fortified?"
+
+"It was guarded by three ships, but the Dutch took them. They played
+havoc with several other vessels, and advanced with six men-o'-war and
+five fireships as far as Upnor Castle, where they burned three more.
+That was good, wasn't it?"
+
+"Splendid! Real pluck! Dull dogs and slow, as you say, but real grit.
+I'm proud of my Dutch fore-fathers."
+
+It was clear that Brockman, if not himself a Dutchman, was of Dutch
+descent.
+
+"The Dutch," continued Zuker, "then fell down the Medway--see, in this
+direction." His finger again went to work over the chart. "They sailed
+next to Portsmouth; they assaulted Harwich, and then sailed again up the
+Thames as far as Tilbury--this point here--where they were repulsed.
+What has been done once can be done again. Why not?"
+
+Zuker, in his excitement, strode over in the direction of the curtain.
+Paul drew back and waited. Had he seen the curtain move? Did he suspect
+there was a listener behind? For a moment Paul scarcely breathed. Then
+he heard Zuker pacing back to the table, and breathed freely again.
+
+"You forget the difference in the times," answered Brockman. "Then there
+were no ironclads."
+
+"I'm forgetting nothing. Ironclads are useless without the brains behind
+them. Battles nowadays are won not so much on the battlefield as by the
+Intelligence Department--the Secret Service"--his voice went almost to a
+whisper--"the service to which you and I belong."
+
+A cold feeling of horror and repulsion stole over Paul as he listened.
+He felt as he might have felt in listening to the rattle of a deadly
+snake. These men were in the Secret Service of another country--spies,
+collecting material for the enemy--material which might be used at any
+time with deadly effect against England, dear old England! And as he
+looked, a mist seemed to rise before him, and suddenly out of the mist
+he saw a strange picture--the cabin of a ship, a man bending over a
+dispatch-box, and rapidly turning over the papers within. Then the door
+of the cabin opened. An officer, with a bronzed, noble face swiftly
+entered, and seized the spy at the dispatch-box. The spy threw himself
+at the officer's feet and pleaded for mercy. Paul saw it all as clearly
+as though it were on a screen before him. Looking at the spy's face, he
+knew it for Zuker. Looking at the officer's face, he knew it for his
+father's.
+
+As the scene faded, he felt that he, too, must spring out on Zuker and
+denounce him. "Spy--traitor! You're the man who tried to betray my
+father! You are the man who would betray Britain!" By some impulse over
+which he had no control he tried to shriek out the words. His lips
+moved, but fortunately no sound came from them.
+
+The next instant he was brought to his senses by the sound of
+footsteps--footsteps in the tunnel by which he had entered. Instantly he
+realized the position in which he stood. The new-comer, whoever he was,
+was probably a confederate of the two spies inside, and would be bound
+to pass into the cave through the curtain behind which he was hidden.
+Quick as thought he retreated a pace or two, well out of the light of
+the lamps, and drew himself close up to the wall.
+
+Nearer and nearer came the footsteps. Presently Paul could just see the
+shadowy outline of a man's figure. Then he passed him, coming so close
+that his coat brushed against him. The figure paused. Paul held his
+breath, and for one brief instant thought that he had been discovered.
+The next, the curtain was lifted aside, and the new-comer passed inside
+the cave.
+
+"Ah, Weevil! What news?" came the voice of Zuker.
+
+Weevil! Paul crept again to the curtain, and peered through the side. It
+was the master, sure enough. He wore a cape, with the collar turned up
+and buttoned tight round the chin.
+
+"Still the same," answered the master.
+
+"No change?"
+
+"No change to speak of. Sometimes he's a little better; then he goes
+back again, and is worse. Poor little chap! it makes my heart bleed to
+see him."
+
+Then Paul knew they were speaking of Hibbert.
+
+"Your heart! What of mine?" exclaimed the man fiercely. "You always
+speak as though you were the only one who cared for the boy. And a lot
+of good you've done for him. It was through you I had him trained as an
+English boy. His mother was English, said you. It was through you he
+went to Garside, because you could take greater care of him, said you.
+What care? Himmel, himmel! You let those imps of Satan torture him;
+through you he has been brought to the door of death."
+
+"Cease, man--cease to torture me!" cried the master.
+
+Paul listened in wonder, not unmixed with awe. He had heard that note of
+anguish in the master's voice before--on that night when he had seen him
+by Hibbert's bed; but the face, with the light of the lamp flickering on
+it, might have been hewn from the limestone. It was as stern and rigid
+as Fate itself.
+
+"I have no wish to torture you; but it sickens me to hear you speak
+about that boy as though it were no concern of mine--as though you were
+the only one who cared for him. I tell you again, I was a fool to let
+him go to Garside."
+
+No answer came for a few moments. It seemed as though Mr. Weevil were
+struggling with his feelings. When he at length spoke, his voice was
+calm again. It had resumed that calm, deliberate tone with which Paul
+was so familiar.
+
+"I would like to speak to you for a few minutes alone, Israel."
+
+Brockman took the hint, and retreating at the other entrance of the
+cave, left the two together.
+
+"I wished to speak with you alone, because I have discovered one or two
+matters which will interest you. You were struck, you may remember, with
+the name of the boy who saved Tim's life?"
+
+"Yes; what of it?"
+
+"You thought that he might be the son of that Captain Percival who years
+ago saved your life at the risk of his own. I knew that the boy's father
+was dead, and on examination of the school-books, I found that he was a
+naval officer. I was not aware of the circumstances under which he met
+his death, however. I have since discovered that he was drowned at sea
+'whilst trying to save the life of a spy'--pardon me the word, but so
+the record runs."
+
+"_Ach!_ Is it possible?" came hoarsely from Zuker's lips. "I had my
+suspicions when I first questioned him."
+
+Paul pressed his ear closer to the side of the curtain. He was anxious
+not to lose a word of what was spoken, for he knew that he was "the boy"
+to whom the master was referring; that "Tim" was, of course, Hibbert.
+
+"I have discovered, further, that it was this same boy--Paul
+Percival--who got through with that letter to Redmead."
+
+"The same? Ach Himmel! I caught but a glimpse of him in the darkness
+that night."
+
+"The hand of a Higher than man is in it. You cannot escape it. Be warned
+in time. Give up this scheme of yours; if not for your own sake, for the
+sake of your son."
+
+"Give up the scheme--the scheme for which I have worked so long. The
+scheme which, day by day, brings me nearer to fame and fortune. You talk
+like a madman. It is more to me than life itself--more to me than the
+life of fifty sons!"
+
+A cry of pain came from Mr. Weevil's lips.
+
+"I know you well enough--you have no love for my scheme. Your heart is
+in what you call science, and in the boy. You wish to frighten
+me--frighten me from the work which every day draws nearer to success.
+Shall I tell you what for? So as to drive me back to the Fatherland that
+you may keep all to yourself, my boy--the boy of your dead sister. Ach!
+I see through your scheming!"
+
+"Hush, man--hush! Is it to hear reproaches from your lips that I have
+risked so much--that I have involved myself in these schemes of yours
+which may mean my ruin?" Mr. Weevil's voice was stern, fearless; but as
+quickly turned to a softer key. "Let us not quarrel, Israel. Heaven
+forbid that we should quarrel over the boy whom we both love in our own
+peculiar way. Remember that his life is still in jeopardy."
+
+They shook hands, and then Mr. Weevil turned towards the curtain behind
+which Paul was hidden.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+THE LETTERS AT THE TUCK-SHOP
+
+
+This time Paul did not move--he could not. He was as one rooted to the
+spot. Fortunately, Mr. Weevil did not come to that side of the curtain
+where he was crouching, but passed through on the other side. It was not
+till he had hastened past Paul that the power of movement returned to
+his limbs. To remain there longer was useless. He had heard enough--more
+than enough. But he was unable to think clearly in that tunnel. The air
+seemed to stifle him; he must get outside.
+
+So he followed in the master's footsteps, taking care, however, to keep
+a good distance between them. At length he reached the entrance. He
+waited a minute or two, then cautiously lifted the circular piece of
+wood that covered the entrance, and made his way through the undergrowth
+to the open.
+
+By that time Mr. Weevil had disappeared from view.
+
+"Am I awake or dreaming?" Paul asked himself, as he drew a deep breath
+of relief.
+
+It seemed, indeed, like a dream--or, rather, a nightmare--that cave, the
+two conspirators, the conversation he had overheard about the taking of
+Sheerness by the Dutch, the advance on Upnor Castle, and, lastly, the
+appearance on the scene of Mr. Weevil.
+
+What was he to do? How was he to act? He was face to face with the same
+dilemma that had confronted him when Hibbert had confessed to him his
+relationship to Zuker. The more he thought of it, the more difficult it
+seemed to move. He was bound hand and foot by the promise he had made
+to Hibbert. How could he be false to that promise--how could he give
+information which might cause his death?
+
+Strange to say, his confidence in Mr. Weevil had grown by what he had
+overheard at that interview. It was true enough that the master seemed
+involved in some way in the schemes of Zuker, but it seemed equally
+certain that he was against them. The words he had overheard were still
+ringing in his ears: "You wish to drive me back to the Fatherland, and
+keep all to yourself, my boy--the boy of your dead sister!" Things
+seemed clearer to Paul. The master's purpose seemed clearer. It was his
+love for his nephew--for Hibbert--which had involved him in the schemes
+of Zuker. Paul had disliked and suspected Mr. Weevil, but, curiously
+enough, he now seemed to understand better than ever he had understood
+before, and that understanding was to the advantage rather than the
+disadvantage of the master.
+
+"The hand of a Higher than man is in it." Those were the master's words.
+They had been spoken from his heart; there was no doubt of that. Though
+they had failed to move Zuker, they had moved Paul strangely. Yes; the
+hand of a Higher than man was in it, and the designs of Zuker would
+certainly be overturned.
+
+"I wish Mr. Moncrief had answered my letter, though," he said to
+himself, as he returned to the school. It must have miscarried. He
+determined to question Hibbert about it again that very evening.
+
+So when the evening came he went to the sick-room, and the nurse, who
+was now in attendance, gladly vacated her place at the bedside to him.
+As usual, Hibbert had been looking forward to Paul's visit, and the thin
+white face was at once all sunshine.
+
+"I'm feeling ever so much better," he said, in answer to Paul's
+inquiries. "I'm feeling quite strong. I shall soon be out again if I go
+on like this. Do you think the fellows will be pleased to see me?"
+
+"Of course they will!"
+
+"I was never very popular, you see," Hibbert went on thoughtfully. "It
+was all my fault. I never took any interest in the sports. I mean to be
+different when I get off this wretched bed--turn over a new leaf; go in
+for footer, cricket, and that sort of thing. I don't see why I shouldn't
+do as well as the rest of them, do you, Percival?"
+
+"I don't see why," answered Paul cheerfully.
+
+"And there's a lot of other things I mean to do. Do you know, I've been
+thinking over so much to-day about our being at the same school--how
+wonderful it all is that you and I should be at Garside. And when I get
+out again, do you know what I mean to do?"
+
+Paul shook his head. He was looking at the face, which seemed to grow
+smaller and smaller, and wondering whether Hibbert would get out again.
+
+"I mean to do my best to pay on that debt my father owed your
+father--the debt that never has been paid. That'll be something to live
+for and work for, and God helping me, I'll do it--do it! Don't say that
+you don't wish it--that you don't want it."
+
+"Certainly not," answered Paul, very softly, falling in with his mood.
+"You shall do as you think best when you get out again."
+
+There was silence between them for a few moments. Hibbert lay with his
+hands crossed on his breast and his eyes upturned to the ceiling.
+
+"What have you been doing this afternoon, Percival?" he suddenly asked,
+as his eyes went back again to Paul's face.
+
+The question took Paul by surprise. How could he tell Hibbert what he
+had been doing that afternoon--the discovery he had made, what he had
+seen and what he had heard in the cave?
+
+"Doing?"
+
+"Yes. Half-holiday, wasn't it? I still keep count of holidays, you see."
+
+Hibbert smiled.
+
+"Oh, I went for a walk!"
+
+"By yourself?"
+
+"By myself." Paul could see that the boy's eyes were scanning his face
+curiously, so he added quickly: "I'm rather fond of walking by myself."
+
+"Have you heard anything about the flag?"
+
+"How did you come to know that it was gone?" Paul asked, astonished, for
+he had thought it better not to trouble him with the information.
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Trounce told me. I get her to tell me any special news. I like
+to know what's going on in the school. Matron's a good sort. It was a
+beastly shame to take the flag, whoever did it. Have they got any clue?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+"I expect the Beetles had a hand in it. What do you think?"
+
+"I scarcely know what to think. It's a mystery. You haven't been
+climbing to the turret in your sleep, and hauling the flag down just for
+the fun of the thing, have you?"
+
+The idea quite tickled Hibbert, for he laughed outright.
+
+"By the by," said Paul, turning the conversation to the purpose for
+which he had come to that room, "you recollect that letter I gave you to
+post a few weeks back?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You're quite certain you posted it?"
+
+"Quite certain. I think that I said so at the time."
+
+Paul noticed that though Hibbert was quite certain that he had posted
+the letter he spoke with some hesitation.
+
+"Yes, yes; you said so at the time--that's quite right. But I was
+wondering whether by any chance you might have given it to some other
+boy to post."
+
+"No; I put it in the letter-box with my own hands." Hibbert again
+hesitated for a moment, then added; "Something did happen, but I did not
+think it worth while to worry you about it."
+
+"What was it?" Paul asked eagerly.
+
+"I was blockhead enough to run full tilt against Mr. Weevil when I got
+outside, and--and he caught sight of your letter."
+
+"Caught sight of my letter! And what did he do?"
+
+"Made me go to his room. He asked me who sent me with the letter, and I
+was obliged to tell him. It didn't matter, did it?"
+
+"It didn't matter," repeated Paul, his throat suddenly becoming parched.
+"Well, well, what happened then?"
+
+"He took the letter to his room, but came back with it in a minute or so
+and handed it back to me. He said that you had broken the rules of the
+school in sending off a letter without the knowledge of the masters, but
+he would overlook the offence, for--for my sake. That's the reason I
+didn't make a fuss about it to you."
+
+"He said that--Mr. Weevil said that? And he gave you back my letter?
+You're quite certain it was the same?"
+
+"Oh, quite certain! I thought perhaps he might have opened it, as he
+said he had a right to, so I looked at it to make sure it was the same.
+It was the same--in your handwriting. I could tell that anywhere. But
+what makes you ask? Has it miscarried?"
+
+"I hope not. I haven't had an answer yet--that's all. I dare say I shall
+get one presently, so don't you worry about it."
+
+To prevent him doing so, Paul turned the conversation again to other
+matters, and then went out. The information Paul had given him about the
+letter set him thinking. What had the master done with his letter in the
+few brief moments he had had it in his possession away from Hibbert? Had
+he opened it and read it? If so, was the letter he had handed back to
+Hibbert to post the same letter that he--Paul--had written? to Mr.
+Moncrief? Hibbert was sure that it was--sure that it was in his
+handwriting. In any case, a letter had been posted to Mr. Moncrief. What
+letter was it?
+
+In this state of perplexity, Paul determined to write briefly to Mr.
+Moncrief again. That was the only way in which all doubt could be ended.
+
+So he wrote a note stating that he had written a letter of some
+importance a few weeks since, and wishing to know as soon as possible
+whether or not it had been received. This letter he directed the same as
+before--"W. Moncrief, Esq., Redmead, Oakville, Kent." He determined that
+this time he would post the letter himself; so the next day, watching
+his opportunity, he slipped from the grounds, and posted it at the
+village post-office.
+
+"It can't go wrong now," he said to himself, as he retraced his
+footsteps.
+
+Meanwhile, Plunger and Moncrief minor were thrown into a state of great
+excitement by finding letters awaiting them at the adjacent tuck-shop.
+Plunger tore the envelope open.
+
+Immediately he drew out the letter and glanced at it he groaned. His
+groan was echoed by Harry. On the top of Plunger's letter was a
+rudely-designed facsimile of a cockroach. On the top of Harry's letter
+was a similarly grotesque design.
+
+Beneath it, in scarcely less grotesque handwriting, as though one of the
+legs of the cockroach had been dipped in ink and made to trace words
+upon the paper, was the following:
+
+"Brother of the Mystic Order,--Greeting from the Brethren. Meeting
+to-morrow afternoon at headquarters. Time, half-past three sharp. Be not
+absent at thy peril."
+
+Then followed the lines which Plunger so well remembered--the words
+which had formed part of the incantation of the "Mystic Circle:"
+
+    "Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call,
+    Rest not, pause not, hither crawl,
+    Or to the realms of Creepy-crawly,
+    Shivery-shaky, we will haul thee."
+
+Plunger groaned again. Harry again echoed it.
+
+"What are you making that row for, you little ass?" cried Plunger
+testily.
+
+"Thought I'd cheer you up a bit. You look just awful, Plunger!"
+
+"You look worse than that! Ever seen a petrified mummy? No? Well, just
+look at yourself in the glass, then! What's your letter about?"
+
+They exchanged letters, and found that they were in precisely the same
+terms--that both were summonses for them to appear before "the Mystic
+Order" at the same date and hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+"FORGIVE, AND YE SHALL BE FORGIVEN"
+
+
+The two boys looked at each other blankly. How were they to act? What
+was to be done? If they refused to obey the summons from the "Mystic
+Brethren," they knew not what would be the penalty. The more they looked
+at the letters, with their grotesque design, the more imposing they
+seemed.
+
+"What's to be done, Freddy?" asked Harry, when they were outside the
+shop.
+
+"We shall have to go, I suppose!" answered Plunger despondently. "We've
+given ourselves away, you see. We're one of them--one of the wretched
+Beetles. We've taken the vow of allegiance. They've got us in a tight
+corner."
+
+"What's the 'realms of Creepy-crawly, Shivery-shaky' I wonder?" asked
+Harry, in an equally dejected tone.
+
+"Some ditch with plenty of toads and slime about it, I expect. You
+needn't be anxious. We'll know soon enough!" groaned Plunger. "I wish to
+goodness you'd been anywhere before you let me in for this mess! Why did
+they ever let you loose from Gaffer Quelch's?"
+
+"Oh, shut up, Plunger! You're tiring! After all, you wouldn't make such
+a bad Beetle. You can crawl a lot better than you can punt, and----Oh,
+oh!"
+
+Plunger had caught him by the ear and given it a vigorous pull. Harry
+returned it by kicking Plunger on the shins. Having thus equalised
+matters, they became once more on friendly terms.
+
+"Look here, Harry, we're both in the same boat. Supposing we don't go?"
+
+"Then what'll happen?"
+
+"I don't know. We shall have to chance that. They can't eat us."
+
+"Oh, but I'm not afraid! It's not that; but--but I don't somehow like
+breaking my word."
+
+"Neither do I. It's jolly awkward; yet, come to think of it, I don't see
+why we shouldn't."
+
+"We promised to be true to the cause."
+
+"Yes; but the promise was got from us by force, and that isn't binding.
+I've heard my pater say so."
+
+"Oh, he's in the glue line, and ought to know what's binding! Stop it,
+Plunger!"--as Plunger seized him once more by the ear. "That's the worst
+of you. You don't know a compliment when you hear one. Don't I wish my
+pater was in the glue line! It's fine stuff. Made out of horses' hoofs,
+isn't it? Well, go on. Not binding, you said. How do you make that out?"
+
+"Haven't I said, stupid--because it was got from us by force? But don't
+take my word for it. Let's ask your cousin. Will that satisfy you?"
+
+Harry at once consented. He still had the highest admiration for his
+cousin, notwithstanding the fact that he had been defeated by a Beetle.
+They returned to the school, where they were not long in finding
+Stanley, who had just been joined by Newall.
+
+"We want to talk with you alone, if--if you wouldn't mind, Stan," said
+Harry.
+
+"You don't think that I'm going to clear out for any of you Lower Form
+cubs, do you?" sneered Newall.
+
+"Oh, you can speak before Newall as you would before me, Harry! Come,
+fire away!"
+
+Harry still hesitated. He could not forget how Newall had served him
+when he first came there, but while he was hesitating Plunger began:
+
+"This is what we want to know. Supposing any fellows in this school--we
+won't mention names--happened to be captured by the enemy, and supposing
+the enemy forced them into a--a----"
+
+"Secret society," put in Harry, as Plunger came to a standstill.
+
+"Yes, secret society. A kind of brotherhood--vendetta, with masks and
+knives and forks--daggers, I mean--and that sort of thing----"
+
+"Now, look here, Master Plunger, stop plunging! Drop it, and come to the
+point!" said Stanley firmly. "What do you want to know? Come, Harry;
+you're not so gassy. Perhaps we can get some sense out of you."
+
+Harry explained as well as he was able what they wanted to know. Stanley
+at once decided that a promise given under such circumstances was not
+binding, and his opinion was, of course, backed up by Newall, who was
+eager to know what this mystery could mean. Thus assured, Plunger and
+Harry told them all that had happened on the afternoon they had been
+captured by the "Mystic Brethren." As may be imagined, Stanley and
+Newall were greatly excited by the story--especially that portion of it
+referring to Paul.
+
+"Now are you satisfied?" cried Newall triumphantly. "Didn't I always say
+what Percival was? He's not only a cur, but a traitor!"
+
+And Stanley, who in days gone by would have fiercely resented the
+slightest reflection on Paul, allowed the words to go unchallenged.
+
+"You're quite certain that it was Percival you saw?" he at length asked.
+
+"Am I certain that I see you?" answered Plunger. "Besides, Harry saw
+him, too. Both of us couldn't be mistaken."
+
+"There wasn't much mistake, Stan. I wish there had been. That makes the
+second time I've seen them together."
+
+"If you don't believe us, you'd better put to him the question straight.
+Send for him now, and put him face to face with us. See if he'll deny it
+then!"
+
+"I think you're right, Plunger. We'll send for Percival, and see what he
+has to say. You go and fetch him, Harry. You'll find him somewhere about
+the grounds.
+
+"One moment. Don't be in a hurry. We've got an artful young gentleman to
+deal with, and if we want to find things out, and pay back the Bedes in
+their own coin, we shall have to be artful as well. We mustn't show our
+hand too soon."
+
+"I don't quite understand."
+
+"No; but I'll make all clear in a word or two. If we call in Percival,
+we shall not get much from him. It isn't likely he'll give himself away.
+He'll say that Plunger was mistaken; that it wasn't him, but somebody
+else who was talking to the fellow up at Bedes. What we've got to do is
+to meet craft with craft, and go one better than Percival at his own
+game."
+
+"Hear, hear!" cried Plunger. "But how are you going to do it? Strikes me
+you'll have to get up very early in the morning to score off Percival."
+
+"We sha'n't score if you keep that noisy tongue of yours wagging, Mr.
+Plunger. All you've got to do is to keep quiet till to-morrow evening,
+and then you can let it wag again as much as you please. My scheme is
+this: We've first got to make good your word about the flag. If we can
+get it from that shed in which you say it is, we can prove that you
+haven't been dreaming. With the flag in our possession, we'll call a
+meeting of the principal fellows from each Form down to the Third. You
+and Moncrief minor can tell the story. Percival can then say what he
+pleases. We can produce the flag to prove our case--and--there you are!
+Percival will be kicked out of Garside!"
+
+Stanley did not speak. The chasm between him and Percival had gone on
+widening instead of narrowing, but it was no pleasure to him to hear
+those words. Percival kicked from Garside! Then Garside would no longer
+be Garside to him. Harry, too, was silent. He did not know why, but he
+began to think they were not doing the right thing by Percival. They
+were trying to trap him, and the one setting that trap was the one who
+hated him.
+
+"A jolly good idea, Newall!" exclaimed Plunger enthusiastically.
+"Smart--real smart! But how are you going to work it? How are you going
+to get the flag?"
+
+"To-morrow's Wednesday; so we've got the whole of the afternoon before
+us. You're supposed to meet the Beetles at half-past three, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes; half-past three sharp."
+
+"Well, we'll be beforehand--half an hour, say. That will give us plenty
+of time to get possession of the flag, and away with it before your
+brethren of the Mystic Circle put in an appearance."
+
+"You--you won't want me?" asked Plunger anxiously. He had a keen
+recollection of what had happened at the shed the last time he was
+there.
+
+"Of course we shall. You'll have to take us to the shed and show us
+what's inside it."
+
+Plunger did not like this suggestion. Why couldn't Newall have selected
+Moncrief minor? But he could not very well raise any objection. So,
+making a virtue of necessity, he raised his eyebrows to their fullest
+extent, and said he should be "delighted."
+
+Then came the question as to who should go with Plunger. It was not
+advisable to take too many, for fear of the risk of discovery. So Newall
+decided that only three should accompany Plunger--Stanley, Parfitt, and
+himself. Stanley would gladly have given way to anybody else, but Newall
+insisted that he should be one of the party. He seemed determined to
+leave no stone unturned to blacken Paul in the eyes of his one-time
+friend.
+
+Stanley crept away as soon as he could to the solitude of his dormitory.
+
+He was very wretched. He felt as though he were acting a mean part. It
+might be true that Paul was not the friend to him that he had at one
+time been--that he had gone over to the Bedes, and acted a mean part;
+but that was no reason why he should act a mean part, too. Two blacks
+did not make a white. "Percival will be kicked out of Garside!" Newall's
+words kept repeating themselves in his brain. He could not forget them.
+Percival would be kicked out of Garside, and he would be one of those
+who had helped to kick him out.
+
+No, no; whatever wrong Paul had done him, he could not do that. But how
+could he prevent it? How could he put him on his guard? He thought for a
+long time; then he got a half-sheet of notepaper, and wrote on it in a
+disguised hand:
+
+"Beware! Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn you from Garside."
+
+The next difficulty to get over was--how to get that note to Paul
+without rousing suspicion. It must be read by him, and him alone. He was
+a long time before he could think of any means of accomplishing this
+purpose; then he remembered that Paul was in the habit of reading a few
+verses every night before going to rest from a Bible given to him by his
+mother. He went to Paul's dormitory--the dormitory in which he had once
+slept, and to which he had often longed to get back.
+
+Glancing cautiously in, he found that it was empty. He crept softly to
+Paul's locker, and drew out his Bible. There was a bookmark in it. He
+opened it at the bookmark. The first words that met his eyes were:
+
+"Judge not, and ye shall not ye judged; condemn not, and ye shall not be
+condemned; forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.... With the same measure
+that ye mete, withal it shall be measured to you again."
+
+Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven! The words seemed in a mist before
+Stanley's eyes. Pshaw! What had he to do with forgiveness?
+
+His eyes went again to the Bible:
+
+"With the same measure that ye mete, withal it shall be measured to you
+again."
+
+He read the words thrice, then placed the note inside the Bible and
+closed it.
+
+"He's sure to see it, I should think, and won't suspect who put it
+there," he told himself, as he stepped softly to the corridor.
+
+Scarcely had he reached it when he heard a footstep coming along it.
+
+Looking in the direction whence it came, he saw that it was he of whom
+he had been thinking--Paul Percival!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+THE MISSING FLAG
+
+
+Stanley did not wish to meet Paul. He might suspect his purpose in being
+there. There was no possibility of turning away, however, so he kept
+straight on, keeping as close to the wall as possible. Paul's head was
+bent to the ground. He seemed absorbed in thought, and passed by Stanley
+as though he had not seen him.
+
+"I don't think he saw me," Stanley told himself. "He looked a bit
+worried, and I don't wonder at it. He can't have a very pleasant time of
+it."
+
+For an instant Stanley felt inclined to turn back. "Forgive and ye shall
+be forgiven." Still the words he had just read were repeating
+themselves. Paul and he had not spoken for so long. A few words might
+clear up everything. Clear up everything? No. How was it possible to
+clear up that scene in the sand-pits? So Stanley's heart hardened again,
+and he went on.
+
+Meanwhile Paul entered the dormitory, and drew from his pocket a note he
+had just found awaiting him at the porter's lodge. He had read it twice
+before, but he could not help reading it again.
+
+"Meet me to-morrow (Wednesday), half-past two, at old elm, near
+sand-pits. Be sure and come. Very important."
+
+This note was scribbled in pencil, and unsigned, but Paul knew the
+writing well enough. It was Wyndham's. What was it Wyndham wanted with
+him? What was it that was so important? Had he gained any information as
+to the missing flag? He was thinking over this note when he passed by
+Stanley, and it was this which had given to him that "worried"
+appearance that Stanley had noticed in his face.
+
+He sat for some time musing over this letter, and then, to get away from
+it, drew from the locker his Bible. It opened, of course, at the place
+in which Stanley had placed his note. Paul unfolded and read it, with no
+small astonishment: "Beware! Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn
+you from Garside."
+
+Plot on foot to turn him from Garside! What could the plot be? This note
+was more puzzling than the other. Like that, too, it was unsigned; but
+this time Paul was beaten. The writing was unknown to him. He could not
+guess the writer, but he could see plainly enough that it was in a
+disguised hand.
+
+Then he suddenly realized that the two notes clashed. The one was an
+invitation to meet a Bede; the other warned him to steer clear of Bedes.
+If he obeyed the one, he would have to disregard the other. What was he
+to do? He did not hesitate long. Wyndham he knew. His friendship had
+been proved. He knew nothing of this anonymous writer--the writer who
+professed to warn him of a hidden danger, but did so in a disguised
+hand, and had not the courage to put to it his name. He would keep the
+appointment with Wyndham, whatever happened.
+
+So the next day, as soon as the clock had struck two, and he was free,
+Paul started off for the old elm, near the sand-pits. Punctual though he
+was, Wyndham was awaiting him.
+
+"I'm so glad you've come, Percival," he said, as he came towards him and
+shook him warmly by the hand. "I've splendid news to tell you."
+
+"The flag?" exclaimed Paul, speaking the thought that was uppermost in
+his mind.
+
+"You've made a very good guess. Yes, the flag. I've got some very good
+news about it--very good news indeed. In fact, I rather fancy I know
+where it is."
+
+"Where--where? Can we make for it?" exclaimed Paul, excited at the news.
+
+"Wait a bit. Don't be in such a steaming hurry!" smiled Wyndham. "Before
+I say a word more, I must ask you not to make use of the information I'm
+going to give you against any of our fellows at Bede's."
+
+Paul readily consented. To get possession of the flag was the chief
+thing he cared for. That accomplished, he could afford to be
+magnanimous.
+
+"From the first I suspected that one of our fellows had a hand in it,"
+went on Wyndham. "You remember that day when you were set upon by a
+dozen or so of the sweet cherubs from Bede's?"
+
+"Only too well."
+
+"Sorry to stir up painful memories. There was one amongst the number
+said to belong to the amphibia. Do you recollect that, too?"
+
+"Of course I do!" laughed Paul. "Mellor, you mean--once a Gargoyle, now
+a distinguished Beetle? Recollect it? Who could forget it? It labelled
+him to a T. You don't mean to say----"
+
+"Yes, I do," smiled Wyndham. "He and another Beetle, whose name I
+needn't mention, captured the flag between them. It was a plucky thing
+to do, and when I found out what had happened, I don't think I should
+have troubled any more about it, only I remembered that there was a
+fellow at Garside who was standing alone, fighting against the wall."
+
+"Wyndham!"
+
+"Don't interrupt. This fellow was rather anxious to get hold of the
+missing flag; and so, out of respect for him, and not for any of the
+mean cads who hail from the same place, I persuaded Mellor & Co. to hand
+it over. It was not easy work, I can tell you. They felt that I was
+robbing them of their rightful prey. But at last they came round,
+and----"
+
+"You got possession of the flag!" cried Paul. "How splendid of you,
+Wyndham! Instead of getting out of debt, I get deeper and deeper into
+it. But where is the flag?"
+
+"Can't you guess?" smiled Wyndham.
+
+"Guess?" repeated Paul, puzzled.
+
+"Yes. I've done my part; that's your part," answered Wyndham, enjoying
+his mystification. "S'posing we go for the old game--'Hot boiled beans
+and very good butter'? Hallo!" The smile died from his face as his
+glance went to the roadway. "Here are some of your lot! They haven't got
+wind of our meeting, have they?"
+
+Paul glanced in the direction of the roadway. Sure enough, there were
+four Garsiders coming along the road--Newall, Parfitt, Plunger, and
+Stanley. As his glance went to the road Parfitt caught sight of him;
+then all four stopped and glanced in the direction where Paul and
+Wyndham were standing. An animated conversation took place for a minute.
+It seemed as though they were undecided how to act. Then they came to a
+decision, and walked quickly on.
+
+"I'm not sorry they didn't come, though I should have been pleased
+enough to meet them at any other time," said Wyndham contemptuously.
+"Let's get on with our game. Now, then, are you ready? 'Hot boiled
+beans, very good butter; ladies and gentlemen, come to supper.' At
+present you're frightfully cold, freezing, perfect icicle."
+
+He rubbed his hands together, and flung them across his chest, and blew
+upon his fingers as though he were suffering from the same complaint;
+and then he laughed again at Paul's mystified expression as he gazed
+round. There was no sign of the flag. At length Paul's glance rested
+upon the decayed old elm-tree, near which they were standing.
+
+"You're getting warmer," smiled Wyndham. Then, as Paul walked towards
+the tree: "In fact, quite hot."
+
+Paul put his hand into the hollow of the tree, and drew out the missing
+flag, wrapped in a covering of American leather-cloth, just as it had
+been when Mellor and Crick had taken it to St. Bede's.
+
+"What can I say, Wyndham?" he asked, in a thick voice as he stood there,
+with the prize in his hand. For the moment there seemed to be a mist
+before his eyes.
+
+"Say? Nothing, of course! All you've got to do is to get back to Garside
+as soon as you can, for I shouldn't be surprised if those fellows we saw
+just now mean mischief."
+
+The anonymous letter flashed into Paul's mind as Wyndham spoke--"Beware!
+Steer clear of Bedes. Plot on foot to turn you from Garside."
+
+Could it be that the four he had seen were concerned in that plot? It
+was quite possible to believe it of Newall and Parfitt--they had always
+been his enemies--but Stanley--No, he could not believe it of him.
+However, he scarcely cared what happened to him now he had gained
+possession of the flag. He would be able to redeem his promise. The main
+thing was to get it back to its old place on the turret.
+
+So he took Wyndham's advice, and started back to the college without
+further delay.
+
+Meanwhile the three who had started from Garside, under the guidance of
+Plunger, for the purpose of capturing the flag on their own account, had
+passed Wyndham and Paul, as we have seen, on the way. They little
+suspected the purpose of that meeting. They never imagined that it had
+anything to do with the flag.
+
+Parfitt, the first to catch sight of the two, gloated over the
+discovery. Stanley's heart fell. He now saw with his own eyes that Paul
+was really on friendly terms with Wyndham. He had taken no heed of his
+note of warning. He had treated it with scorn.
+
+"He's playing a deep game," said Parfitt. "I believe he means turning
+over Garside for Bede's, like Mellor did."
+
+"I believe so, too; but he can't do it before next term, and we must get
+our blow in before then. It all depends on getting hold of that flag.
+Now, then, Plunger, buck up!"
+
+Plunger increased his pace, and it was not long before he reached the
+shed in which he and Moncrief minor had been initiated into the "Noble
+Order of Beetles." They reached it, as arranged, fully half an hour
+before the time appointed for Plunger to meet "the mystic brethren." So,
+as they hoped and expected, they found it empty.
+
+"Now, Plunger, where do you say the flag is? Quick! We've got no time to
+lose!" said Newall.
+
+Plunger did not answer. He stood dumfounded. There was the place where
+he had been initiated into the "mystic brotherhood." There was the place
+where he had stood and looked up at the "mystic emblem," and had
+discovered to his amazement that it was the missing school flag. He
+rubbed his eyes then; he rubbed them now. The flag had gone! Gone! Had
+it ever been there? Was that scene, after all, as it had more than once
+seemed, only a dream?
+
+"Wake up, sleepy!" cried Newall, kicking him on the shins to rouse him.
+"Where's the flag?"
+
+"It was there, just over my head," answered Plunger, pointing to the
+roof above him; "but it isn't there now."
+
+They searched the shed, but could find no trace of the missing flag.
+There was a large box in which it might be hidden, but that was locked,
+and there was no time to force it.
+
+"You're not making fun of us, Plunger, are you?" demanded Newall,
+clutching him fiercely by the arm.
+
+"Really, I'm not."
+
+"Well, look here, you'll have to meet these fellows again, just as
+though you'd turned up in answer to their note, and see if you can worm
+out anything about the flag. If we're seen here it'll spoil the game.
+But we won't be far off. If you want any help, yell out, and we'll see
+what we can do for you. Do you understand?"
+
+Plunger understood perfectly, but, all the same, he did not like the
+prospect of meeting the brethren of the mystic order again. However,
+there was nothing for it but to give in, so he gave in with as good
+grace as possible.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+HOW THE FLAG FOUND ITS WAY BACK TO THE TURRET
+
+
+Paul got safely back to Garside with his prize. He mounted with it to
+his dormitory and undid the covering in which it was encased. Yes, there
+was the old flag, none the worse for its temporary absence from the
+school. Paul's heart beat the quicker. He was as proud of the flag as
+any boy at Garside, and as he looked at it he realized in some degree
+the feelings of a soldier when he has recaptured the colours from the
+enemy.
+
+Folding it up again, he hid it under one of the cubicles, and went in
+search of the boys who had been with him in the dormitory when the loss
+of the flag was first discovered.
+
+He was not long in finding Moncrief minor, who was wandering about the
+ground like a lost spirit. He was unhappy at the absence of his
+companion in mischief, the redoubtable Plunger. He began to think that
+he had been left out in the cold. What a hero Plunger would be if,
+through him, the flag were brought back again to the school!
+
+As he was thus thinking he saw Paul coming towards him. He quickly
+turned his head and walked off as though he had not seen him, but Paul
+came up with him in a stride or two, and, clutching him by the arm,
+twisted him round till he was in front of him.
+
+"You needn't run away, Harry. I want you to do me a favour."
+
+"What is it?" asked Harry, reluctantly.
+
+"You remember that afternoon when the flag was lost?"
+
+Harry looked up quickly. What was coming out about the flag now? Ha, ha,
+he guessed what it was! Percival had begun to smell a rat. He meant
+trying to pump him, so he answered cautiously.
+
+"Of course I do, and so do most of the fellows here, I'm thinking. I
+wonder if we shall ever get it back again?"
+
+"I wonder. It was Viner who brought us the news, I remember, and besides
+yourself there were several other fellows in the dormitory at the
+time--Baldry, Plunger, Sedgefield, Bember. I want you to get together
+again the same fellows if you can, and bring them to my dorm. Would you
+mind doing that for me?"
+
+"What for?" was the curious answer.
+
+"Oh, I'll explain what for when you're there. Will you do it?"
+
+Harry thought for a moment before answering. What was Percival's game?
+He was curious to know; but there couldn't be any harm in doing as he
+asked.
+
+"I can't bring Plunger--he's got something special in hand, but I'll
+hunt up some of the others, and bring them along with me, if I can."
+
+So he ran off, and Paul returned to the dormitory. Half an hour elapsed
+before he heard the welcome sound of footsteps on the stairs. Harry had
+succeeded in capturing three out of the five, Sedgefield, Baldry, Viner.
+They were just as curious as Harry was to know what Paul could want with
+them.
+
+"I'm much obliged to you for coming along," said Paul, "it's really very
+good of you, considering the dead-set against me. But I wanted to get
+together the fellows who were here when Viner brought up the bad news
+about the flag. I wish all six were here, but I must be satisfied with
+four out of them. At any rate, there's enough of you to remember what I
+said. I said, you'll remember, that through me the school had eaten
+dirt."
+
+"Oh, yes, we remember that well enough," said Viner bitterly, "because
+it was so true."
+
+"So true; yes, Viner. As your memory's so good on that point, perhaps
+you can remember what else was said?"
+
+"Of course I do. We all do, for one or two of us have laughed over it
+since. You talked some nonsense about the school suffering through you,
+and through you being lifted up again."
+
+"And that you meant getting the flag back again, and putting it in its
+old place on the turret," added Sedgefield.
+
+"You're right, Viner, and so are you, Sedgefield. I'm glad you remember
+things so well. I made that promise, uncertain whether or not I should
+be able to carry it out, but determined to do my best. Well, by God's
+help, I'm able to keep my word."
+
+To the profound amazement of the boys, he drew out the flag.
+
+"Where did you find it? Where did you get it from?" cried Viner.
+
+Harry did not speak. He could only stare at the flag. Was it really the
+old flag? There could be little doubt about that. How, then, had
+Percival come by it? Had he stolen a march upon Plunger and the others?
+
+"Where did I get it from? Well, that's my secret for the present. I've
+got the flag, and kept my promise. Now I want you to mount with me to
+the turret, so that we can put it back again in its old resting-place."
+
+He waved the flag over his head, and Baldry and Sedgefield gave a cheer.
+Harry echoed the cheer in a dazed, bewildered fashion. He had not yet
+recovered from his surprise. Viner remained silent. They followed Paul
+to the turret, where once again the flag was placed on the summit with
+another cheer.
+
+Meanwhile Plunger was inside the shed, awaiting with no small
+trepidation the arrival of the "Mystic Brethren." He had not long to
+wait before six of the masked brethren entered. The foremost of these
+was Mellor, followed by five of his companions. They had put on their
+masks outside the door, so that Plunger was just as much in the dark as
+to who they were as ever.
+
+"Gargoyle with the eyebrows, greeting!" exclaimed Mellor.
+
+"Greeting," repeated the other masks, bowing.
+
+"Now, then, greet," came a peremptory cry, as Plunger received the point
+of two or three knees in different parts of his body, which sent him
+staggering round the circle. It revived painful memories of a similar
+performance on his part on a previous occasion, and he hastily stammered
+out, "Gr-gr-greeting," and jerked his head in imitation of the
+brethren.
+
+"We are glad thou hast obeyed the call; but where is thy brother
+novice--Henry Moncrief?"
+
+"He--he's otherwise--engaged," stammered Plunger, not knowing what to
+say.
+
+"Otherwise engaged! Know this, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch, no
+engagement should keep him from answering the call of the Mystic
+Brethren. It shall be inquired into."
+
+As he spoke, Plunger saw, with fear and trembling, that one of the
+number had drawn from the box the weapons he so well remembered--the
+sticks with bladders attached to the ends. He guessed what was coming,
+and it came.
+
+"Describe the Mystic Circle!" cried Mellor.
+
+It was useless resisting. Down flopped Plunger on his knees and hands,
+and crawled round the ring as quickly as possible three times, while the
+bladders showered upon his head with amazing rapidity. Then the brethren
+joined hands, and galloping wildly round him, repeated as before:
+
+    "Beetles of the Mystic Band
+    Wind we round thee, hand in hand;
+    Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call,
+    Rest not, pause not, hither crawl,
+    Or to the realms of Creepy-crawly,
+    Shivery-shaky we will haul thee."
+
+And once again, to the strains of this extraordinary incantation,
+Plunger was sent whirling about the ring from side to side, as though he
+were an indiarubber ball. The last time two of them--Harry and
+himself--divided honours; but this time Plunger had it all to himself.
+Owing to this fact the brethren were able to give him their sole and
+undivided attention, and they did it with such effect that Plunger began
+to wonder whether he was himself or someone else.
+
+"Dost thou like the Mystic Circle?" inquired Mellor, when they paused.
+
+"Oh, y-y-yes," stammered Plunger, with a painful attempt to laugh, "very
+much." And then he added quickly, as he saw the uplifted bladders ready
+to descend: "But--but if you've got any more of it, you might keep it
+for my brother novice."
+
+"It shall be as thou askest, Gargoyle with the eyebrows," said Mellor.
+"And now to business."
+
+"To business? Do they call what I've just gone through pleasure?"
+thought Plunger, as he waited in fear and trembling what was to come
+next.
+
+"Thou belongest to the Third Form?"
+
+Plunger nodded.
+
+"A wonderful scholar art thou, Gargoyle with the wiry thatch," was the
+cutting comment.
+
+"Oh, I could be much higher in the school," exclaimed Plunger, blushing
+to the roots of the "wiry thatch"; "but I don't like the boys in the
+upper Forms, you know. They put too much side on for me."
+
+"You look a modest, retiring kind of fellow. That's the reason the
+Mystic Brethren have taken such a fancy to thee."
+
+Down came the bladders on Plunger's back as tokens of brotherly
+affection. Plunger felt flattered at this testimony of the brethren to
+his virtues, but he wished at the same time they had expressed it in
+some other way.
+
+"It's very kind of you," he gasped.
+
+"Though thou dost despise the bounders of the Upper Form, peradventure
+thou wouldst not mind taking a small present from the Mystic Brethren of
+the Fifth?"
+
+"A present?" repeated Plunger, pricking up his ears. "Not at all. Shall
+be delighted to make myself useful."
+
+"Let me see. The head boy of the Fifth is one named Hasluck, is he not,
+wearer of goggles?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is there not also in that same Form one named Leveson, famous
+timekeeper, owner of a stop-watch?"
+
+Plunger nodded, marvelling at the accuracy of the brethren's
+information. At a sign from Mellor, one of the masks, who was no other
+than Crick, left the circle, and brought from the corner of the shed a
+long parcel, wrapped in American leather-cloth--a facsimile, in fact, of
+the parcel which Paul had received from Wyndham a little earlier.
+
+"Give this to Hasluck, in the presence of the timekeeper Leveson and as
+many other menials of the Fifth as thou canst find. It is a souvenir
+from thy brethren to celebrate thy initiation to the Mystic Order. Dost
+thou understand?"
+
+Fluttering with excitement, Plunger clutched the parcel, and declared
+that he understood perfectly.
+
+He had not got far on the homeward road before he was rejoined by his
+companions, who had been lying in wait for him behind the friendly
+shelter of a hedge.
+
+"I've got it!" he gasped.
+
+"Got what?" demanded Newall.
+
+"The flag!" he cried, flourishing the precious parcel.
+
+"Bravo, Plunger!" exclaimed Newall.
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted Parfitt. "How did you get it?"
+
+"Presented to me in honour of my initiation to the Mystic Order."
+
+"Let's have a look at it."
+
+"It mustn't be opened till we get to the school. Hasluck's got to open
+it, in the presence of Leveson."
+
+As Plunger had faithfully followed out their instructions, they could
+not very well object to this condition, so they ran by his side,
+questioning him by the way as to what had happened to him in his
+absence. Plunger answered to the best of his ability, colouring
+considerably the part he had played in the ceremony, and the esteem in
+which he was held by the brethren.
+
+"Why--why, what's that?" exclaimed Stanley, coming to a dead stop. The
+others did the same. Their eyes followed his to the turret. There was
+the old flag flying from the top!
+
+Plunger turned pale; then a sickly hue went over his face as he looked
+from the flag to the parcel in his hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+FRIENDS IN COUNCIL
+
+
+Plunger's bewilderment was shared by his companions as they saw the old
+flag fluttering on the turret. What had happened? How on earth had it
+got there? Newall's hand went out to Plunger's ear.
+
+"Thought you said you'd got the flag, ass?"
+
+"Oh, oh, oh! Le' go my ear!" roared Plunger, as he gazed first on the
+turret, then on the mysterious parcel in his hand. He firmly believed
+that the Mystic Brethren had given the flag into his care, that it was
+inside the parcel when he had set out from the shed, but that by some
+magical influence it had managed to transfer itself from the parcel to
+the turret. Yet there was something still inside the parcel without a
+doubt. What was that something?
+
+"Yes, bounder!" exclaimed Parfitt, helping himself to the other ear.
+"Got the flag--that's what you told us! Presented to you in honour of
+your initiation! What's your game, blockhead?"
+
+"Oh, oh, oh! Le' go my ear! That flag up there must be a beastly fraud,
+or there must be two of 'em! Le' go my ear, will you!"
+
+Plunger began to think that the sympathetic attention he had received at
+the hands of the enemy was only to be equalled by the polite attention
+of his friends.
+
+"Didn't you say you'd got the flag in that parcel, Plunger?" asked
+Stanley, in a quieter tone, because he detested bullying himself, and
+did not like it practised on others.
+
+"Yes, I did, Moncrief!" persisted Plunger. "That's a twin up there, or
+an imitation, or something of the sort. Get Hasluck and Leveson, and
+I'll prove it to you."
+
+"We're not going to wait for Hasluck or Leveson! You've gammoned us
+enough! Give it up!"
+
+Newall snatched the parcel from Plunger's hand. It was carefully bound
+round with cord. Too impatient to untie it, Newall severed the cord with
+his knife. As he did so a small bundle of "swishers"--long sticks, such
+as were used by the boys of St. Bede's for "beating the bounds"--fell
+from the cloth. They were bound round in turn with a sheet of white
+paper, and on this paper was written in a bold hand:
+
+"Your dull ass will only go with beating. You've provided the ass. We've
+provided the swishers. We deliver both safely into your hands. Times to
+be called by the Gargoyle--Leveson--with the stop-watch."
+
+Disappointed though they were, the boys standing around Plunger burst
+into laughter. Plunger had been skilfully hoaxed. Under the impression
+that he was carrying the flag, he had delivered into their hands the
+formidable-looking swishers, with precise directions as to the method in
+which they were to be employed. Plunger's self-assurance for once gave
+way. Where was he standing? He scarcely knew. The ground was crumbling
+under his feet.
+
+"Well, Plunger, if you don't take the cake, and the bun, and the
+biscuit!" came the cutting voice of Newall. "My word, how the Beetles
+must be sniggering at you! The flag, didn't you say?"--holding up the
+swishers. "Oh, oh, it's too funny! Given in honour of your initiation to
+the Mystic Order! Oh, oh! Help yourself, Parfitt; help yourself,
+Moncrief!"
+
+He tossed them a swisher each, and selected one for himself, the quality
+of which he tested by flipping it in the air, much too near the
+crestfallen Plunger to be pleasant.
+
+"Thanks, Newall!" said Parfitt, putting the swisher he had received to a
+similar test on the other side of Plunger. "Wasn't to be opened till you
+got to the school, was it, Plunger, in the presence of Leveson--eh?"
+
+"Yes, in the presence of Leveson!" repeated Newall grimly. "Cut and find
+him, Plunger, and tell him to be sure and bring his stop-watch."
+
+Down came the swishers--twice, thrice. Plunger did not require any
+second bidding. He did "cut." His speed would have astonished himself
+had he had time to think about it, but he hadn't. His one great desire
+was to put as great a distance as possible between himself and Newall
+and Parfitt. Moncrief major had been more considerate of his feelings,
+and had not made use of his swisher.
+
+"Where can I hide myself," panted Plunger--"where?"
+
+He was not only sore and wounded in spirit, but in body as well.
+
+And here perhaps it is necessary to add a brief word of explanation as
+to how it was Plunger came in possession of the extraordinary parcel
+which had drawn upon him so much ridicule. When, with much reluctance,
+Mellor and his friends had given up the flag to Wyndham, they decided,
+by way of compensation, to prepare a parcel that closely resembled it.
+If the flag had been taken from them, they did not wish to be defrauded
+of their due share of sport at the hands of the enemy. So the note had
+been sent from the "Mystic Brethren," which, by a roundabout method, had
+drawn Plunger to the shed. What followed has been seen.
+
+To return to the scene outside Garside. So soon as Newall and Parfitt
+had ceased chasing Plunger they turned to Stanley.
+
+"You don't seem to be enjoying the fun, Moncrief?" said Parfitt.
+
+"No; can't quite see where the fun lies," answered Stanley gravely.
+"Seems to me that Plunger's not the only ass that wants beating. We
+might use those sticks very well on ourselves. We've been just as much
+sold as he has. We've been on a fool's errand. We were going to bring
+the flag back, and the flag's come back without us."
+
+"Yes; the flag's come back, sure enough," answered Newall. "And how the
+dickens did it come back?--that's the puzzle. Hallo! There's your young
+cousin. He ought to know something about it. Moncrief--Moncrief minor!"
+he shouted.
+
+Harry, who was crossing the grounds at the time, turned in answer to the
+shouts and came towards the three boys.
+
+"Got the flag?" he asked innocently.
+
+"No cheek, kid, else we'll trounce you like we've just trounced your
+friend Plunger!" retorted Newall sharply.
+
+"Who brought the flag back? How did it get there?"--glancing to the
+turret.
+
+"Oh, it got there by a friend of yours--Paul Percival," answered Harry,
+hitting back. "He's beaten you, just like you've beaten my friend
+Plunger."
+
+Newall scowled, and would have treated him to a taste of the swisher,
+only he recollected that he was Stanley's cousin.
+
+"Be serious, Harry," said Stanley. "Percival, did you say? Do you really
+mean that the flag was brought back by him?"
+
+"I am serious, Stan--never more so in my life. The flag was brought back
+by Percival, and put in its old place on the turret by Percival."
+
+He then told them precisely what had happened. The three boys listened
+in silence. Percival had stolen a march upon them, that was quite clear.
+Stanley wondered whether his note of warning had put him on his guard.
+The thought that it had been of some service might have pleased Stanley,
+but the memory of Percival talking to Wyndham hardened his heart against
+him once more. He smothered the old feeling of friendship that would
+keep trying to assert itself, in spite of himself.
+
+"I told you that we should have to meet craft with craft!" cried Newall,
+breaking the silence. "But so far Percival has beaten us. Plunger's an
+ass, but he was quite right for once when he said that we'd have to get
+up very early in the morning to score off Percival. What's our next
+move?"
+
+As neither Moncrief major nor Parfitt responded, Newall went on:
+
+"We saw Percival talking to a particular friend of yours, Moncrief."
+Stanley winced at the cold, cutting words. "That was a couple of hours
+ago. At that time the flag was not on the turret. We can all answer as
+to that, I think?"
+
+Stanley and Parfitt nodded assent.
+
+"What happens? In the interval Percival returns to Garside with the
+flag. Where did the flag come from? I think the answer's simple
+enough--it must have come into Percival's possession by the help of your
+particular friend, the Beetle who was so kind to you at the sand-pits,
+Moncrief."
+
+Every word had its venom, and distilled its poison in the breast of
+Stanley.
+
+"Well, well, what of it?" he demanded hoarsely.
+
+"What of it?" repeated Newall, raising his eyebrows and regarding him
+with feigned astonishment. "It's all clear enough, I should think. The
+whole business is an artfully-concocted plot between Percival and
+Wyndham. The flag disappears. How it disappears is a mystery. No one
+knows--least of all Percival. But he makes use of some high-sounding
+words in the presence of a few of the fellows--flag gone, by Heaven's
+help he'll bring it back again! The fellows cheer him to the echo. A
+short time elapses, during which the mystery deepens; then Percival
+turns up with the flag. He has kept his word. More cheers. Oh, yes, it's
+all clear--clear as day! Don't you think so, Moncrief?"
+
+"One moment," answered Stanley, passing his hand over his forehead. "I'm
+a bit dazed somehow. Let me understand. You believe that--that----"
+
+"That the hand which brought back the flag is the same hand that took it
+away."
+
+"Of course!" assented Parfitt. "As you say, Newall, it's as clear as
+day. Nothing could be clearer."
+
+"Nothing could be clearer," echoed Stanley, as his head fell to his
+breast.
+
+Harry was silent. Like his cousin, there had always been deep down in
+his heart a real affection and sympathy for Paul. He had always hoped
+that he would be able to reinstate himself in the good opinion of the
+school; so it was he had cheered with the rest when Paul returned with
+the flag. It was all very mysterious, it was true; but Harry had shut
+his eyes on the mystery. The flag had come back to the school. Paul had
+brought it. He had made good his word. That was enough. He would be
+again the Paul he had once known--the Paul Stanley had known and loved.
+
+"What's to be done?" demanded Stanley.
+
+"Well, we can't do anything to-day. Let's wait developments to-morrow.
+Mr. Weevil's bound to take some sort of action."
+
+"Oh, there you go again!" cried Stanley impatiently. "Putting things on.
+Yesterday it was the same."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"I wanted to make straight for Percival. 'No,' said you; 'don't be in a
+hurry. We mustn't show our hands too soon.' And so on, and so on. Oh,
+I'm sick of it all--sick of everything--sick of waiting!"
+
+Harry looked up at his cousin. There was a note of passionate revolt in
+his voice, a fierce light in his eyes; both hands were clenched, and he
+seemed to sway to and fro, as though no longer master of himself.
+
+"For that matter, so am I," said Newall softly. "Perhaps I was wrong,
+Moncrief, in putting things off. I dare say I was. You gave in to me
+yesterday, I give in to you to-day; that's only fair. What do you want,
+old fellow?"
+
+Newall placed a hand quite lovingly on Stanley's shoulder.
+
+"Want? No more of this wretched waiting game! Let's go to Percival
+straight--straight! Do you hear?" came hoarsely from Stanley's lips.
+
+"Yes, I hear; and I am with you."
+
+And Newall exchanged a swift smile of triumph with Parfitt.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+UNEXPECTED TIDINGS
+
+
+As soon as Paul had accomplished his purpose, and seen the flag waving
+in its old place on the turret, he went to the room of Mr. Weevil. He
+knew well enough that inquiries would be made respecting the return of
+the flag, and therefore he took the straightforward course of going at
+once to headquarters.
+
+"Come in!" came the voice of the master in response to the knock on his
+door.
+
+He was pacing to and fro the room--the same room in which Paul had seen
+him on that never-to-be-forgotten night with Zuker. He stopped as Paul
+entered, and regarded him in his usual manner--through half-closed eyes.
+
+"You, Percival! What is it you want with me?" came the sharp answer.
+
+"I only came to tell you that the flag is back in its old place, sir."
+
+"I know--I know! And you brought it back, I understand? I meant
+inquiring into the matter. I'm glad you've forestalled me. You want to
+explain--eh? That's what you've come for--eh?"
+
+"That's what I've come for, sir," answered Paul, astonished that he
+should have gained such speedy information as to what had happened.
+Sometimes, indeed, it seemed as though those half-closed eyes not only
+saw further than other eyes, but that they had the faculty of double
+sight as well.
+
+"And yet I don't know whether I can call it an explanation, for there
+are things which cannot be explained."
+
+"Not explained? How do you mean, sir?" came the sharp answer.
+
+"I received the flag back from a friend of mine--a proved friend--on the
+solemn promise that I would not make use of the information he had given
+me to get any of the fellows who had taken it into a scrape."
+
+"Why did you make that promise?"
+
+"Because it was the only way of getting the flag back."
+
+"And that is all the information you can give me?"
+
+"That is all, sir."
+
+"And you call it an explanation? Really, sir, it is one of the most
+extraordinary I have ever heard! And you expect me to accept it?"
+demanded the master, facing Paul, and looking him fully in the eyes.
+
+"I trust so, sir, because I can give no other--have no other to give."
+
+Mr. Weevil did not at once answer, but took two or three more turns
+across the room.
+
+"I believe you to be a lad of honour, Percival," he said, stopping once
+more, "and a lad of sense. Let me put it to you, then, as a lad of
+honour and of sense. Supposing I am perfectly ready to accept your
+statement, do you really believe that the school will be as ready to
+accept it?"
+
+"The school might be curious to know more, sir, but if you accept my
+explanation as sufficient, I don't see why anybody should question it."
+
+"Yes, yes; that might be well enough. But there have been one or two
+rather mysterious things that have happened within the last month or two
+which have never been cleared up. There was the breaking open of my
+desk, for instance, and the torn pages in the Black Book."
+
+"I could mention a still greater mystery that wants clearing up,"
+thought Paul, as his mind went back to the afternoon when he had seen
+the master enter the strange hiding-place of Zuker.
+
+"The culprit in that case has never been found out. It still remains a
+mystery," continued Mr. Weevil. "Then came the mysterious disappearance
+of the flag, and its equally mysterious return. The school will be
+getting suspicious--uneasy. If no better explanation is forthcoming
+than that you have given me, suspicion will grow--I am certain of it."
+
+Paul saw that the master was right. Still, he had no intention of giving
+up his secret.
+
+"I have given my word, sir," he answered firmly. "You would not have me
+break it?"
+
+"You said that you have received the flag from a friend, if my memory
+serves me--a proved friend?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"May I ask in what way his friendship has been proved?"
+
+How could Paul answer him? How could he tell the man before him in what
+way Wyndham had proved his friendship to him? Suddenly, it flashed into
+Paul's mind that the bold course was the best.
+
+"When I was home last vacation, sir, a gentleman had an accident with
+his horse. He asked me to take a packet for him to Mr. Moncrief, the
+father of Moncrief minor. I took the packet. On the way I was set on by
+two ruffians. I got away from them, but they followed me, and would have
+got the packet from me had it not been for the friend I speak of."
+
+Mr. Weevil's eyes began closing as Paul was speaking. When he finished
+they opened again.
+
+"What did this friend do?"
+
+"Hid me till the ruffians had gone."
+
+"Good! And that enabled you to get the packet to Mr. Moncrief?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Excellent! But, do you know, Percival, this really seems a stranger
+story than the other."
+
+"Perhaps so, sir; but I can prove every word of it, if you like. By your
+permission, I will send for Mr. Moncrief----"
+
+"No, no; that is altogether unnecessary!" said the master quickly.
+"Strange though the story is, I accept every word of it--every word. The
+friend you speak of was indeed a friend in need. You must keep your word
+to him--it would be an act of baseness to break it. I did not know the
+facts, you see. You may leave the rest to me."
+
+Paul's heart bounded joyfully. The bold course had been the right one.
+It had succeeded where a weaker course might have utterly failed.
+
+"Thank you, sir. It is very kind of you."
+
+Paul was about to withdraw, when the master called him back.
+
+"Let me see, there was a letter came for you while you were out. There
+it is in the rack."
+
+Paul took the letter from the rack as Mr. Weevil turned to his books.
+Again his heart gave a great bound. One glance at it told him who it was
+from. It was the letter he had been so anxiously awaiting from Mr.
+Walter Moncrief.
+
+"It _is_ for you, isn't it?" Mr. Weevil asked, glancing into the boy's
+eager face.
+
+"Yes, sir," answered Paul, wondering whether the master suspected who it
+was from or had any knowledge of its contents. He inspected the envelope
+as he hastened to his dormitory. No; it did not seem to have been
+tampered with. Mr. Weevil could not have seen its contents. On reaching
+his room, he tore open the envelope, and read:
+
+     "My dear Paul,--I received your first letter, but was away from
+     home at the time, so was unable to answer it. Pardon my delay. You
+     need not worry about the man Zuker. I am kept informed as to his
+     movements.
+
+     "With regard to your master Mr. Weevil, I quite agree with you--I
+     cannot think that he has anything to do with a traitor to his
+     country, though appearances may be against him. At any rate, till
+     anything is distinctly proved, give him the respect due to a
+     scholar and a gentleman.
+
+     "To turn to other and more agreeable matters. I trust that Harry is
+     getting on well. He seems too busy to write much. And when he does
+     write, it's nothing but 'Plunger, Plunger, Plunger,' from start to
+     finish. You would fancy there was nobody else but Plunger in
+     existence. Tell him that when he can get away from Plunger we shall
+     be very glad to hear from him again.
+
+     "I know the great friendship there is between you and my nephew
+     Stanley. I only hope that Harry will find as good and worthy a
+     friend. Tell Stanley that he has to come here during next vacation,
+     and bring you with him. I think we shall be able to provide you
+     with plenty of amusement, though I can't promise you it will be of
+     so exciting a kind as you had last vacation.--Your sincere friend,
+
+     "WALTER MONCRIEF."
+
+A great feeling of relief came over Paul when he read the first part of
+this letter. There was nothing to worry about Zuker. Mr. Moncrief was
+kept informed of his movements; and yet, and yet----If Mr. Moncrief knew
+of his movements, why, in the name of wonder, did he not arrest him? But
+perhaps there were reasons against it. In any case, the answer was
+satisfactory, and he felt relieved.
+
+It was with far different feelings he read the last part of the letter.
+
+"I know the great friendship existing between you and Stanley," Paul
+read again, with sorrow. "I only hope that Harry will find as good a
+friend."
+
+And the message? What was he to do with the message Mr. Moncrief had
+asked him to deliver to Stanley? He turned the letter over and over in
+his hand. He must deliver it to him somehow.
+
+"Stanley must answer it; not I. I will give it to his cousin."
+
+As he passed along the corridor a deep groan came from one of the
+dormitories. It sounded like some one in pain. He stopped and listened.
+A few seconds more, and the groaning was repeated. He opened the door
+softly and looked in. The dormitory was to all appearances empty.
+
+"Strange! My ears must have deceived me," thought Paul.
+
+He was on the point of retreating when the sound came again to his ears.
+
+"No; I wasn't mistaken," he said, stepping softly into the room and
+closing the door after him. "It was somebody, but who?"
+
+He looked round, puzzled. There was no one visible. He stood perfectly
+still and waited. A few seconds more, and the groaning was repeated. But
+this time he detected whence it came. It came from under one of the
+cubicles. He crossed to it and looked underneath. A boy was huddled up
+on the floor. One glance was sufficient to tell him who it was--it was
+Master Plunger.
+
+"Here. Plunger, come out of that!"
+
+Plunger did not attempt to move.
+
+"Come out of that, I tell you!"
+
+As Plunger still refused to move, Paul took him by the leg and hauled
+him out.
+
+Such a woebegone Plunger it was! His wiry thatch was more dishevelled
+than usual. The eyebrows seemed to have made a more desperate attempt
+than ever to invade the territory of the forehead. The self-assurance
+which had been the distinguishing mark of Plunger's manner had gone.
+
+"Le' me go--le' me go!" he groaned. "I want to die!"
+
+"Die!" Paul could scarcely refrain from laughing. "There's not much of
+that about you! You're not one of those whom 'the gods love,' so you'll
+never die young, Plunger. What have you been up to? I believe you've
+been smoking."
+
+This accusation brought Plunger to a sitting posture on the bed.
+
+"I haven't been smoking--I haven't been smoking! It's the flag!"
+
+"What about the flag?"
+
+"I angled for it, and thought I'd hooked it; but I hadn't. Some other
+fellow had; so instead of hooking the flag I got a beastly swishing.
+That's not all. I shall get roasted all round, and, of course, the Two
+J.'s will be poking fun at me in the 'Gargoyle Record.' I'd like to know
+who the fellow was who got the flag. Have you heard?"
+
+"I have heard, but I haven't time to go into it just now. Your friend
+Moncrief minor can tell you all about it. Cheer up, Plunger, and don't
+talk any more about dying."
+
+Paul hurried off, leaving Plunger to digest the scanty information he
+had given him as best he could.
+
+"Now for Stan!" he said, as he made his way to the common room, but
+little dreaming what was there in store for him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+THE STORM BREAKS
+
+
+As Paul approached the common-room, the sound of voices came through the
+open door, and clear above the hubbub rose the voice of some one making
+free use of his name. He knew the voice well enough. It was Stanley's.
+Why were they discussing him?
+
+On entering the room, the voices ceased as by magic. Every eye was
+turned in his direction. Several boys were gathered round the fireplace.
+Foremost in the group were Newall, Parfitt, and Stanley.
+
+"I thought I heard my name?" Paul exclaimed, as he stepped into the
+room.
+
+"Quite right," said Stanley, coming from the group and confronting him.
+"I've been looking for you."
+
+Paul was on the point of saying that he also had been looking for
+Stanley, but the silence that followed Stanley's words, the concentrated
+gaze of that group of boys, and, above all, the face of Stanley
+himself--white, yet with a burning, feverish light in the eyes--kept
+back the words.
+
+"Looking for me?" he repeated.
+
+"Yes; I did hope that I should never have to speak to you again, but one
+or two things that have just happened make me. All the fellows here know
+how much it's against the grain."
+
+Paul's face fell. He had come in search of Stanley with the hope of
+bringing about a reconciliation. That hope receded in an instant to the
+far distance.
+
+"If it's against the grain, I wonder you should trouble," he could not
+help answering.
+
+"Oh, we have to swallow things we don't like sometimes." Then he broke
+off into a tone of banter. "So you've brought the flag back to Garside?"
+
+Paul did not answer. He was only conscious that the group had drawn
+closer to him, and that Stanley's eyes were burning at a fiercer heat.
+It seemed some other than Stanley who was speaking. He had assumed the
+tone and manner of Newall; but he was forcing himself into a part which
+did not suit him, so that he acted it badly.
+
+"The worst of Percival is that he's so modest. He doesn't know what a
+smart thing he's done," went on Stanley. "It isn't to be wondered at
+that the kids of the Third and Fourth have been cheering him like mad.
+Why should we be left out in the cold, eh?"
+
+"Why?" echoed Parfitt. "Let's give him a rouser."
+
+Parfitt led off the cheers--cheers which fell with a hollow sound on
+Paul's ears, for he knew well enough they were only mocking him.
+
+"When we hear about a smart thing, we're naturally anxious to know how
+it was done," jeered Parfitt.
+
+"Naturally," echoed Newall, followed by cries of assent from the rest.
+
+"Order! Order for Percival!" exclaimed Stanley, holding up his hand for
+silence.
+
+Silence instantly reigned. You might have heard a pin drop as they
+waited for Paul to speak; but they waited in vain. He neither spoke nor
+moved. He was not thinking of himself, nor of the boys that stood around
+him. He had ears and eyes for Stanley, and no other. It was a
+transformed Stanley--not the Stanley he had once known.
+
+"Lost your tongue?" cried Stanley, breaking the silence. "Come, out with
+it. We can't wait here all day! How did you manage to get hold of the
+flag? Who had it, and how did you get it back to Garside? Don't be so
+awfully modest? You've hidden your light under a bushel too long."
+
+"The flag is back at Garside," answered Paul firmly, ignoring the taunt.
+"For the rest you had better ask Mr. Weevil. I don't owe any explanation
+to you or any other fellow in the Form!"
+
+He turned away, but Stanley sprang between him and the door.
+
+"That won't do? You do owe us an explanation, and I mean having it!"
+
+"You?"
+
+There was more of sorrow than anger in Paul's voice, but to the
+sensitive ears of Stanley, strung to the highest tension, it sounded
+strangely like contempt.
+
+"I! What were you doing with the Beetle we saw you with near the
+sand-pits this afternoon?"
+
+"The Beetle you ran away from, you know," added Newall. "The Beetle you
+left Moncrief to fight for you!"
+
+This wholly unnecessary piece of information sent the scarlet back for a
+moment into the white face of Stanley. His hands opened spasmodically;
+then closed in a firmer grip than before.
+
+The gibe acted differently on Paul. He recalled that Stanley had really
+suffered for him; he recalled too, the note of warning that had been
+left for him in his dormitory. Perhaps, after all, it had been written
+by Stanley? The Stanley he had once known as a friend. And there came
+over him the old longing to clasp him by the hand.
+
+"I will try to explain to you if you will meet me somewhere alone," he
+said, drawing near to Stanley, and speaking in a little more than a
+whisper.
+
+"Speak out! I want no secrets!" cried Stanley.
+
+"All the fellows in the Form have as much right to hear as I have! What
+I can hear they can hear! I don't want to go about sneaking and
+whispering in corners!"
+
+Murmurs of applause greeted this expression of opinion.
+
+"If that's the way you look at it," answered Paul sorrowfully, "the
+thing's ended. I've nothing more to say."
+
+"But I have, and you must hear--must!" repeated Stanley, with emphasis,
+as Paul tried to pass him. "It's your honour I'm thinking of, as much as
+the honour of the school. Do you know what they are saying?"
+
+"I don't know or care," came the swift answer. "As for my honour, it can
+very well take care of itself."
+
+"Like it did at the sand-pits," put in Parfitt, amid an outburst of
+laughter.
+
+Paul bit his lip to keep back the angry words that sprang to his tongue.
+And the gibe went again as a poisoned shaft to the wound that was lying
+as a canker in the breast of Stanley.
+
+"Well, we'll leave your honour out of it, if you don't care to stick up
+for it. But there's the honour of the school, and do you know what
+they're saying? They're saying that the flag business was all a
+dodge--that it's been engineered between you and the Beetle you would
+not stand up to in the sand-pits!"
+
+"Engineered! How do you mean?" demanded Paul, staggered by this fresh
+accusation.
+
+"That it was all arranged between you and the Beetle."
+
+"I--I can't quite see. I don't understand. Do you mean----"
+
+"Let him have it straight; so that he can't wriggle out of it!"
+exclaimed Newall, as Paul paused, unable to get out the words that came
+as a torrent to the lips.
+
+"I mean that the theft of the flag was arranged between you and that
+fellow at St. Bede's; and that it's come back again by the same clever
+piece of trickery."
+
+"Is that what they're saying?" demanded Paul.
+
+"That's what they're saying."
+
+"And--and--what do you say, Stan?" The name came out in a gulp.
+
+Had Stanley only followed his better impulse, he would have answered:
+
+"I don't believe it. Though appearances are against you, I cannot
+believe it. I still have faith in you, as I used to have. We have
+wandered apart, but Garside has never been what it was since we ceased
+to speak. I have been unhappy--miserable."
+
+But the gibes of Newall and Parfitt were still rankling in his breast.
+He seemed to feel again the blows of Wyndham on his face. So instead of
+answering as his better nature dictated, he replied:
+
+"I stand by the Form. I say the same."
+
+"Then it's a lie--a dirty lie. Let me pass."
+
+Paul was choking. It would not so much have mattered what his Form said.
+He could trust to time to bring them round again; but that Stanley could
+have believed him guilty of such mean, despicable trickery--there was
+the sting. Stanley had felt the blows of Wyndham on his face, but that
+was as nothing to the torture endured at that moment by Paul. It was as
+a flail cutting deep down into his very flesh.
+
+Stanley still barred the way to the door, and did not move.
+
+"Let me pass!" came again the hoarse, choking cry.
+
+Stanley did not budge. Neither did he answer. He was as dumb, as
+immovable, and as white as a block of marble. Paul could endure it no
+longer. He caught him by the arm to turn him aside. His touch started
+the statue before him into life. As though it were an insult to be wiped
+out, Stanley struck out blindly with his fist. Paul received the blow
+full on the face, and fell to the ground like a log.
+
+It was a cruel blow. Stanley knew it the moment he had struck his
+one-time friend, and he would have given all he possessed to have
+recalled it. But it was too late.
+
+"Well hit!" applauded Parfitt, as though Stanley had just made a
+brilliant drive in the cricket-field instead of striking his best
+friend.
+
+"First knockdown and blood to Moncrief!" exclaimed Newall. "Oh, he's all
+right, Waterman. He doesn't want any help from you."
+
+Waterman, who had been standing in the background, leaning in his usual
+indolent manner against the most comfortable corner of the fireplace,
+shook on his lethargy as Stanley struck the blow which felled Paul to
+the ground, and at once left his favourite spot by the fireplace and
+went to his assistance.
+
+"Hurt, Percival?" he asked as, heedless of Newall's remarks, he wiped
+away the blood that was trickling down Paul's cheek.
+
+Paul had been momentarily dazed by the unexpected blow; but he was
+strong, and soon shook the feeling off.
+
+"Thanks, Waterman. No; I'm not hurt," he whispered, rising slowly to his
+feet.
+
+The boys gathered round. The excitement had grown from the moment Paul
+had entered the room. From that instant the storm-clouds had begun to
+gather, and with the blow struck by Moncrief major they had burst.
+
+What would happen?
+
+"Steady yourself, Percival," whispered Waterman. "So--Are you sure you
+are all right?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+Waterman let go his arm. The blood still trickled down Paul's face, but
+he walked steadily up to Stanley, who had thrown up his arms in defence,
+as though expecting a return of the blow.
+
+"You can put down your hands, Stanley. I'm not going to fight you," said
+Paul calmly.
+
+"He's moulting again--more feathers!" cried Newall.
+
+"And aren't they white ones?" added Parfitt.
+
+"I'm not going to fight you," repeated Paul, looking Stanley squarely in
+the face; "but I'll pay you back again--some day."
+
+Stanley did not attempt to stop him this time; so Paul made his way back
+to his room, and sank upon his bed thinking. He had done nothing of
+which he was ashamed, but the blow of Stanley was burning on his cheek,
+and he felt wretched, miserable. He had striven for the best, but
+somehow things had turned out for the worst. Once before when things
+were at their blackest, there was one who had come to him, and placed a
+little hand in his; but now there was no one, save the good God above.
+
+He was thinking thus, when there was a tap on the door; the door was
+jerked open with a shoulder; and Waterman, with his hands thrust deep
+into his pockets, strode indolently in--just for all the world as though
+he were coming to a picnic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+IN THE GARDEN
+
+
+"It's tiring work getting up stairs, especially these stairs--ugh!" said
+Waterman, as he entered. "If you don't mind, I'll take a seat."
+
+And without waiting for Paul to answer, Waterman dropped down, with his
+hands still in his pockets, beside him on the bed.
+
+"It was very good of you to give me a helping hand just now, Waterman."
+
+"Oh, humbug! I've got a wretched sort of memory. Fact is, it's too great
+a fag trying to recollect half the things crammed into you at school,
+but I seem to have a better memory than most fellows for some things.
+And there's one thing I can't forget--I can't forget you coming across
+the ground with that little chap, so like a drowned rat, in your arms. I
+shall have to be blind, deaf, and silly before I forget it."
+
+Waterman spoke in his usual drawling tone, but its underlying note of
+earnestness was quite unusual. Strange that Paul, too, had just been
+thinking of Hibbert, but in a scene far different from that to which
+Waterman had referred. God had been very good to him after all. He had
+been thinking how utterly lonely he was, and yet a friend--true, a
+somewhat indolent one--had come to him in his hour of adversity.
+
+"And look here, Percival," went on Waterman, "there's something else I
+remember. I don't know why, you know, but I do."
+
+"What's that? Seems to me your memory's improving," said Paul.
+
+"Oh, my memory's fairly good when it's not grubbing about amongst Latin
+roots, or making a fellow bald-headed worrying over problems invented by
+a fiend calling himself Euclid ever so many years ago. Why the
+undertakers couldn't have buried them along with old Euclid, or stowed
+them away with his mummy, is one of those things I could never
+understand. Then if people wanted to dig them up again, they'd have been
+in their right place--in the mummy department of the British Museum.
+Where was I? Oh, on memory. Yes, there's one thing I remember, in spite
+of the Latin roots and weary old Euclid. I recollect what you told me on
+that day when you surprised every one by turning tail at the sand-pits.
+I've kept it to myself all this time. Is it necessary to keep it a
+secret any longer?"
+
+"Yes, Waterman," answered Paul firmly.
+
+"Why? Let me set you right with the Form? It'll be an awful fag, I know.
+Still, the vac's coming on, and one can have a good long rest after
+one's pulled through."
+
+"No, Waterman," said Paul, shaking his head; "I'm not going to curry
+favour that way. You've been a friend to me--a friend where I least
+expected to find one. Bear with me a little longer."
+
+"But you don't understand the dust that Newall, Parfitt & Co. are
+kicking up? Can't you see that they've got Moncrief major completely
+under their thumb? They'll make Garside too hot to hold you."
+
+"We'll see. I'm not beaten yet."
+
+"Better let me speak," persisted Waterman.
+
+Paul shook his head.
+
+"I give you up. You are worse than old Euclid!" exclaimed Waterman,
+plunging his hands deeper into his pockets.
+
+With a yawn he strolled towards the door, edged his shoulder round it
+until he had opened it wide enough for his body to pass through, closed
+it by a like man[oe]uvre, and with the same measured step went on his
+way.
+
+"After all, I've got one friend at Garside," thought Paul, with a smile,
+"though he does like to take his time over things."
+
+He looked in the glass. His cheek was swollen and bruised. His
+appearance was very much what Stanley's had been when he had returned
+from the sand-pits after his encounter with Wyndham.
+
+"I hope Stanley is satisfied," he said, smiling grimly at himself in the
+glass.
+
+Then he remembered that he hadn't carried out the purpose for which he
+had gone to the common room. He had gone there for the purpose of
+speaking to him about Mr. Moncrief's letter. It was useless to think of
+doing so now. He would put the letter in his desk till a more convenient
+season. His hand went to his pocket. The letter had gone!
+
+The old feeling came over him that had come over him on the day when he
+had lost that other letter on his way to Redmead. It had disappeared
+from his pocket just as mysteriously. He looked around. There was no
+trace of it in the room. Then he remembered that he had pulled out his
+handkerchief in the common room to staunch the blood from his cheek. He
+must have pulled out the letter with it.
+
+It would not have mattered much had it been an ordinary letter. But it
+was not an ordinary one. Far from it. It contained references to Zuker
+and Mr. Weevil which might cause no end of mischief were it to get into
+the wrong hands.
+
+He did not like the idea of returning to the common room; it was like
+swallowing a nauseous draught of medicine. Probably the boys were still
+there, laughing over his discomfiture. Yet, nauseous though the draught
+was, it had to be swallowed, and it was best to swallow it quickly.
+
+So he again descended to the common room. He faintly hoped that it might
+be deserted, but that hope vanished as he reached the room. This time he
+heard the voice of Newall. He paused for a moment; then went boldly
+forward.
+
+Stanley had gone--he saw that at a glance; so had most of the others;
+but Newall, Parfitt, and two or three more had remained, and were
+evidently discussing recent events.
+
+They could not have been more startled had a ghost entered, instead of
+a being of flesh and blood. Paul searched round the room in the hope of
+finding some trace of the missing letter, but found none.
+
+"Dotty!" came the voice of one of the boys, who had by this time
+recovered from their surprise at the unexpected return of Paul.
+
+"Looking for the courage that oozed out at his heels," sneered Parfitt.
+
+"I've lost a letter," said Paul, on whom these facetious remarks were
+quite lost. "You don't happen to have seen it?"
+
+No one answered him. They stared blankly at him. They did not mind
+speaking at him. Speaking to him was quite a different thing.
+
+It was perfectly useless to expect an answer from them; so Paul went
+out, feeling far from comfortable. He could only hope that no bad use
+would be made of the letter, supposing it had fallen into their hands.
+
+_The Gargoyle Record_ came out next day. Among other items of
+information were the following:
+
+"Old flag back to tower. Brought back by 'two P's' of the Fifth. Great
+enthusiasm--little waddlers of the Third cheering like lunatics; big
+cacklers of the Fifth hissing like geese. Mystery in three volumes. Vol.
+I.--How the flag disappeared from Garside. Vol. II.--Where it went to.
+Vol. III.--How 'two P's' got it back again. Snorters of the Fifth
+getting excited. A commission of inquiry into the conduct of 'two P's.'
+
+"Rumours of a scrum in common room. 'Two P's' again distinguishes
+himself. Still living up to his old motto:
+
+    "He who fights and runs away
+    Will live to fight another day."
+
+"What has become of that promising junior whose name rhymes with hunger?
+Nothing has been seen or heard of him for the last day or two. What has
+come over him? His native modesty seems to have left him. He has
+retreated to a back seat. Is he projecting further adventures in desert
+islands, or giving lessons in punting? Anxious inquiries are being made
+at the offices of the _Record_. Colonial papers in the neighbourhood of
+desert islands, please copy."
+
+Paul, on reading these paragraphs, knew well enough who was meant by
+"two P's." They were the initials of his own name--Paul Percival.
+
+But his mind was taken from these happenings by a message from the
+sick-room. Hibbert had been up for a few hours each day, and had pleaded
+hard with the doctor to be allowed to go out; so the doctor at last gave
+the nurse permission. On two days the invalid went out with the nurse.
+
+On the third day he asked Paul, as a special favour, to take him out.
+Paul willingly consented, only too pleased to feel that he could be of
+some help to him again. There was one favourite spot to which the
+solitary boy used to go when he was well. It was in the garden attached
+to the schoolhouse, apart altogether from the playing-fields. It was
+marked "Private," and the boys, as a rule, were not allowed there. It
+was chiefly used by the masters.
+
+It was because it was so tranquil, so different from the playing-fields,
+and because the sun seemed to linger around this old garden longer than
+anywhere else, that the dreamy boy loved it, and used to steal there
+when he was well.
+
+"I'm so glad to feel you on my arm again, Hibbert!" said Paul, as he led
+him to a basket-seat, with cushions, beneath a wide-spreading elm.
+
+"I feel better now than I've felt for a long time, Paul. How I must have
+wearied people lying up there!"
+
+He glanced in the direction of the school.
+
+"Don't say that, Hibbert. It sounds as though there was no one in the
+world who cared for you."
+
+"I know it sounds ungrateful; but even when we care for people, we must
+get weary of them when they're ill a long time. I don't mean you, but
+the nurse, and doctor, and--other people."
+
+Paul knew that Hibbert was thinking chiefly of his father, who, absorbed
+in his own schemes, had only been to see him once since his illness--on
+that afternoon when Mr. Weevil had introduced him to Zuker.
+
+To turn the boy's mind from these sad thoughts, Paul told him some of
+the latest exploits of Plunger, winding up with his recent discovery of
+him under the bed in his dormitory. Hibbert was amused and interested.
+
+"Plunger's a funny lot. He makes me smile to think of him. I hope he's
+never worried himself much about that raft accident?"
+
+"Plunger's not the sort of fellow to worry himself much about anything
+for long; but he's often asked me about you."
+
+"I was thinking a good deal about what happened on the raft last night.
+I could not sleep for thinking of it; and then, when I went to sleep, I
+dreamed--dreamed that my mother was standing by me all in white. She was
+smiling down at me, and held out her arms to me. I tried to get to her,
+and in trying to get to her I awoke. Do you know, I was so disappointed!
+The dream was better than the awaking. I so wished my mother had lived,
+for then you would have known her, Paul. I'm sure you would have liked
+her, and that she would have liked you. But perhaps it is best as it
+is."
+
+"I'm sure it's for the best, though it seems hard to say so. Everything
+is for the best, Hibbert. We don't see it, because we're only blind
+people leading the blind. But God sees, and God knows. That's what my
+mother has told me so often that I've never forgotten it. It has helped
+me a lot--more than I can tell you. You've talked about your mother, let
+me tell you a little about my own."
+
+And Paul talked to Hibbert about his own mother. The boy listened
+eagerly, with one hand resting in Paul's, a smile upon his lips.
+Suddenly he drew a deep sigh of content; the fragile head fell back upon
+the chair; the hand in Paul's grew suddenly cold.
+
+Paul looked into the boy's face. The smile still hovered about his lips,
+but he saw something in the face he had never seen there before.
+
+"Hibbert!" he cried. But there was no response.
+
+Paul gently withdrew his hand and ran to the house. He met Sedgefield,
+and sent him for the nurse, while he hurried back to Hibbert.
+
+The little fellow was still lying back in the chair. A wren had perched
+itself lovingly upon his shoulder, but Hibbert knew nothing of its
+presence. He was fast asleep--in the long, last sleep that knows no
+waking.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+HOW THE VOTE WAS CARRIED
+
+
+Hibbert's death caused a lull in the storm that recent events had raised
+at Garside. Notwithstanding his illness, it was thought that he was
+getting better. It came, therefore, with a shock to the school when he
+was found sleeping that afternoon in the garden. The little fellow was
+laid to rest in a country churchyard, at some distance from the school,
+by the side of the mother whom he had so loved.
+
+No one in the school, with the exception, perhaps, of Mr. Weevil, missed
+him so much as Paul did. He had a great pity for Hibbert, and that pity
+had grown to love. He never forgot that last scene in the garden--in the
+warm sunshine, with the shadows creeping over it, and the Great Shadow
+of all drawing nearer and nearer, until it at last rested on the boy's
+head.
+
+Nor did he forget the interview he afterwards had with Mr. Weevil, when,
+with tones that were strangely uneven for Mr. Weevil, he had questioned
+him about all that Hibbert had said in those last moments before he had
+fallen asleep. When Paul told him what the boy had said about his
+mother--of his dream, and the awakening--the master's eyes blinked as he
+had never seen them blink before.
+
+"Ah! He has his wish; he is with her--with his mother," said the master,
+as one speaking to himself rather than to Paul. "He is at rest
+and--happy."
+
+Then he remained silent for so long, as one buried in deep thought, that
+he seemed to have quite forgotten the presence of Paul. Paul knew of
+whom he was thinking; that he, too, was thinking of the boy's
+mother--the sister whom he had loved and reverenced; so he stole
+quietly from the room.
+
+During this time Paul saw nothing of Hibbert's father. He wondered
+whether he was still carrying on his schemes in the cave, or whether the
+death of his son had altered his plans in any way. In any case, Paul
+felt no cause for alarm. The letter of Mr. Moncrief had removed all
+cause for anxiety. None the less he could not help feeling anxious as to
+what had become of the letter itself. Where had it gone to on that day
+it had fallen from his pocket? Into whose hands had it fallen? Had it
+fallen into the hands of the enemy, Newall and his lot? If so, what use
+were they making of it?
+
+He was still left pretty much to himself, so he was able to put the
+finishing touches to his essay on "The Invasion of Great Britain," a
+subject, as the reader knows, which had occupied some share of his time
+and attention. Then the essay was sent in with others for the
+competition.
+
+The breach between him and Stanley, as may be imagined, had not been
+lessened by what had happened between them in the common room. Stanley
+avoided him as much as possible, and they never spoke.
+
+After the momentary lull in the storm caused by the death of Hibbert, it
+broke out again more violently than ever. This was due to the fact that
+Mr. Weevil had made no inquiry, or seemed to have made no inquiry, into
+the circumstances which had brought about the return of the flag. Newall
+and his parasite Parfitt said it was a disgrace to the school.
+
+Thus the storm, which had momentarily lulled, broke out with fresh
+vigour. While it was at its height, the Fifth once more assembled in the
+Forum. Hasluck presided, as usual, and the rest of the Form, with one
+exception--Paul--were present. Arbery and Leveson guarded the door
+against invasion from "the little beggars of the Third and Fourth."
+
+Hasluck mounted the rostrum, and brought his mallet down with a bang as
+a signal that the meeting had commenced.
+
+"Now then, you fellows, order! I'm not going to spout a lot----"
+
+"Couldn't if you tried!" put in Devey.
+
+"Look here, Devey, are you in the chair, or am I? If you don't keep
+quiet, I'll chuck the mallet at you," said Hasluck, raising it
+threateningly. "As I said before, till I was interrupted by an ass
+braying, I'm not going to spout a lot. What we've got to do is to get to
+business, and most of you know what that business is."
+
+"Hear, hear, hear!"
+
+"Most of you were present in the common room when certain charges were
+made against Percival by Moncrief major. He told Percival to his face
+that the flag business was all a dodge; that it was engineered between
+him and the champion of the Beetles. Percival denied it; but you know
+what happened after that. Moncrief struck him, and Percival went away
+with his tail between his legs just as he did at the sand-pits. We were
+all disgusted----"
+
+"All!" echoed the others, with the exception of Waterman, who was
+reclining languidly on a box, apparently quite unconcerned in what was
+going on.
+
+"We were all disgusted, and decided to take some action which would
+bring matters to a point. Unfortunately, Hibbert died just then, and we
+could do nothing. We were obliged to wait a decent interval. The time
+for waiting's past." (Cheers.) "We've got to get to business. Moncrief
+major will explain."
+
+Stanley, with white, set face, was standing between Newall and Parfitt.
+After the charge he had made against Paul at Newall's instigation, and
+the blow that had followed it, he had been forced into a position from
+which it was impossible for him to retreat. First he had been adroitly
+forced into the position of being Paul's accuser; and now, with no less
+adroitness, he had been compelled to take a step which struck more
+cruelly at his friend.
+
+"Oh, I haven't much to explain," he said, in a thick, unnatural voice.
+"As Hasluck has said, we all decided to take action after what happened
+in the common room. Hibbert's death prevented us. I think you know what
+that action is. We're going to call upon the Head to expel Percival from
+the school."
+
+A loud cheer greeted this announcement. There could be no doubt as to
+the feeling of the Form, and that Stanley had voiced it.
+
+"Move, move!" came from several of the boys, when the cheers had
+subsided.
+
+"Yes, we must have everything in order," said Hasluck. "It's about the
+first time that we've ever called upon the masters to expel a fellow."
+
+Stanley hesitated. How was it possible for him to strike at Paul
+again--this time behind his back!
+
+"Get on--move! What are you stopping for?" demanded Parfitt, nudging him
+with his elbow. "I'll back you up."
+
+"Get on," repeated Newall, nudging him from the other side.
+
+"I--I move," said Stanley, in faltering tones, "that we call upon the
+Head to expel Percival from the school."
+
+"And I second!" cried Parfitt.
+
+"And I support!" exclaimed Newall.
+
+"Hands up for!" demanded Hasluck.
+
+"One minute before you vote," came the languid voice of Waterman, as the
+hands shot up. "You don't want to be in such a hurry. It's bad for the
+nerves. People in a hurry have fits. They get themselves into knots and
+tangles which take no end of time to get out of, and leave them with a
+lovely headache into the bargain. That's what you're going in for--fits,
+tangles, headaches. I gave Moncrief major credit for sense. You're not
+going to follow his lead, are you?"
+
+The arms that were held up fell. The boys stared at Waterman in
+astonishment. It was not often that he took the trouble to speak at
+these meetings, but when he did it was usually to the point.
+
+"Of course we are. Why shouldn't we?" exclaimed Parfitt.
+
+"You'll be bigger asses than I took you for--and that's saying a good
+deal, you know--if you do. I didn't hear all that took place after
+Moncrief struck Percival. The atmosphere was getting bad, you see, and I
+don't like breathing bad atmosphere, if I can help it; so I don't know
+what passed between you fellows. I've no doubt it was something choice,
+and that I lost a great deal; so perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me
+why Percival's to be expelled."
+
+This demand on Waterman's part, made in the most innocent manner, was
+met with howls of derision. They could never quite tell from Waterman's
+manner whether he was serious or poking fun at them; but this time it
+seemed quite clear that he could only be poking fun.
+
+"Yes, that's very musical," proceeded Waterman calmly, when the howling
+had subsided. "I couldn't do better myself, if I tried. You're going to
+expel Percival because you believe he engineered the flag. That's it,
+isn't it?" (Cries of assent.) "Good! I like to get at things," retorted
+Waterman, still keeping his languid position on the box. "Engineering
+the flag means--what? It means that Percival, by trickery, got it away
+from Garside. Is that it?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" came the approving shout.
+
+"Well, vote as you like. Here's one that's going to vote against you."
+
+"Why? What's your reason?"
+
+"Because I happen to remember what happened on the day the flag was
+lost. Seems to me most of you have forgotten."
+
+Waterman had started up from his languid position on the box; his face
+had lost its wearied, languid expression, and had become quite animated.
+
+"I haven't, and never shall, though I never pretend to remember things;
+they're so beastly uninteresting, as a rule. This wasn't. That's why I
+remember, I suppose. Well, on the afternoon the flag was lost I was
+going from the school, when I nearly ran full tilt against a fellow who
+was carrying a little chap, dripping wet, in his arms. The fellow was
+Percival; the little chap was Hibbert. You know what happened, though
+you seem to have forgotten it. Percival, at the risk of his own life,
+saved the little chap from the river."
+
+Stanley's head fell to his breast. The scene came to him as Waterman was
+speaking. Had he not met Paul on that day staggering along with his
+burden? Had he not avoided him, when he might have given a helping hand?
+
+"What's that to do with it?" demanded Newall. "Supposing Percival did
+pull the youngster out of the river, what's that to do with the flag?"
+
+"What's that to do with the flag!" repeated Waterman. "It's this to do
+with it--how could Percival be playing tricks with the flag, and fishing
+at the same time a poor little chap out of the river? Besides, would a
+fellow who'd done a splendid thing like that stoop to such a mean thing
+as the other?"
+
+"Yes," retorted Newall boldly. "A fellow who would turn tail like he did
+at the sand-pits, and again in the common room, would do anything. It's
+you who forget, Waterman. We've asked Percival for an explanation. If
+he's innocent, why doesn't he explain?"
+
+"I don't know, and what's more, I don't care. What I've seen of Percival
+is quite good enough for me."
+
+"Vote, Vote!" cried Parfitt. "We don't want any more twaddle."
+
+Hasluck brought down his hammer as a signal that discussion was at an
+end. Then he put the motion moved by Stanley--"That the Form call upon
+the Head to expel Percival from the school."
+
+Stanley would have voted against his own proposal had it been possible.
+But it was impossible; so his hand went up with the rest--all save one.
+
+"Against!" cried Hasluck.
+
+Up went the hand of Waterman, amid the derisive cheers of those around
+him.
+
+"Phew! The atmosphere of this place is getting beastly, just like the
+common room on the day when the shindy was. Phew! I don't wish to be
+unpolite, but I'm sure you fellows won't mind if I get out of it."
+
+And thrusting his hands into his pockets, Waterman sauntered out.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So the vote was carried that Paul Percival should be expelled from
+Garside.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+WATERMAN DOES A STRANGE THING
+
+
+For one who had professed himself as beastly hot and fagged, Waterman
+did a strange thing after he had left the Forum. He walked with a speed
+that was simply amazing for him in the direction of St. Bede's; and what
+was still more remarkable, he did not stop until he had reached it. None
+of the Beetles were about at the time, but he had not long to wait
+before he caught sight of one of the junior form.
+
+"Will you tell Wyndham I wish to see him--as quickly as possible."
+
+The boy stared at him, as Murrell had stared at Paul when he had visited
+St. Bede's. It was not till he had repeated his message that he seemed
+to comprehend.
+
+"Quick, there isn't much time to lose!" exclaimed Waterman, as though it
+were a matter of life and death.
+
+Then the boy hurried off, and a minute or two later Wyndham appeared.
+Waterman was unknown to him; so that he was just as much astonished at
+seeing him as the smaller boy had been.
+
+"I'm a Gargoyle, you can see that. My name's Waterman, and I've come
+here about a fellow named Percival. Spare me the fag of explaining too
+much."
+
+"Percival! What about him!" demanded Wyndham, at once interested.
+
+"There's a strong movement on foot to get him expelled from Garside.
+It's chiefly over the flag. His best friend, or one who was, has turned
+against him; and things are looking as black for Percival as they can
+look. I'm afraid that he'll get the worst of it, unless something's
+done. I can do nothing; so I've come to you. There's some beastly
+mystery about the whole business. Percival won't explain because of
+somebody else, and that somebody else is you. I'm certain you won't see
+Percival kicked from Garside, if a few words from you will set things
+right."
+
+"Kicked from Garside!" exclaimed Wyndham. "Tell me what happened?"
+
+Waterman, feeling that the time for speaking frankly had come, told
+Wyndham all that had happened--from the day Wyndham had fought and
+conquered Stanley in the sand-pits.
+
+They remained a long time in conversation, and when Waterman at length
+returned to Garside, Wyndham returned with him.
+
+In the meantime an interview of a different nature was taking place at
+Garside. After the meeting in the Forum, Stanley, feeling very wretched,
+had retreated to his dormitory, where in a few minutes he was joined by
+his cousin Harry, who was looking just as miserable and uncomfortable.
+
+"I say, Stan, is it right what I hear--that Percival is to be kicked out
+of Garside?"
+
+"Well, what if he is? Doesn't he deserve it?"
+
+"I don't know. It's a puzzle. I can't make things out. Look at this
+letter. I picked it up while the shindy was going on between you and
+Paul in the common room. All the fellows were crowding round you. No one
+saw the letter but me. Paul dropped it when he was mopping the blood
+from his face. I ought to have given it back, but I saw that it was
+father's handwriting; so I sneaked off with it, and read it; and
+then--then I knew that I'd done a mean thing and did not like to give it
+back to Paul."
+
+He handed Stanley the letter--the letter in which Mr. Moncrief had
+answered Paul's inquiries about Zuker and Mr. Weevil, and concluded by
+inviting him and Stanley to Redmead at the next vacation.
+
+"What does it all mean?" demanded Stanley, when he had read the letter.
+
+"I can't make out. I thought, perhaps, you might be able to throw light
+on it."
+
+"I'm afraid not; but you might leave it with me. I'll think it over."
+
+"All right; but I say, Stan, you must do something to prevent Paul being
+chucked from the school. That's going it a bit too strong. I know whose
+working that beastly dodge--Newall and his jackal Parfitt."
+
+How could Stanley tell his cousin that it was he--Stanley Moncrief--who
+had actually moved that Paul should be expelled from the school? If it
+were possible for Stanley to have felt more wretched than he had felt
+when Harry came to him, he certainly did so when he was once more alone.
+"I know the great friendship there is between you and my nephew
+Stanley." Those were the words which stared him in the face. Friendship?
+What mockery! How had he proved his friendship? By doing his best to get
+Paul expelled from the school. What would his uncle say to him when he
+next visited Redmead? It was to show him this letter Paul had doubtless
+come to him that day in the common room. And he had met him--with a
+blow. It was dastardly.
+
+He must do his best to undo the mischief he had done. Stanley started
+up, and went to the door; then he paused, and his heart began to harden
+again.
+
+After all, if mischief had been created, Paul was alone responsible. It
+was he, and not Stanley, who had acted in a dastardly manner. It was he
+who had run away at the sand-pits, and left him to fight his battle with
+the beastly Beetle; it was he----
+
+His meditations were cut short by the door being opened, and the
+entrance of Waterman.
+
+"Hallo, Moncrief. The very fellow I've been looking for. Horrid bore
+looking for fellows. Phew! Close in here, isn't it? You look a bit off.
+Come for a little stroll. I've got a fellow who's dying for an
+introduction to you."
+
+Waterman slipped an arm through Stanley's, and before Stanley was aware
+of it, had led him through the door.
+
+"A fellow--wants to be introduced to me! What fellow?" he demanded.
+
+"Ah, that's it. What fellow? You'd never guess. It's a pleasant little
+surprise I've got in store for you. Think of all your rich uncles and
+aunts, and people of that sort. Ha, ha! A pleasant surprise, lovely,
+delightful. Mustn't spoil it by telling you. Come along."
+
+Waterman's reference to uncles at once reminded Stanley of the uncle
+whose letter he had been reading. Could it be that his uncle Moncrief
+was paying him a surprise visit? But Waterman did not take him to the
+visitors'-room. He took him out of the grounds to some elms which
+flourished not far from the school. Here a boy was leaning against one
+of the trees. Stanley glanced at him; then turned white. It was Wyndham.
+
+"Told you I had a little surprise," said Waterman. "Wasn't I right? I
+like little surprises--don't you? Explanations are an awful bore. I
+never like explanations if I can get out of them. Wyndham's got
+something to tell you. You'll find him very decent for a Beetle."
+
+And Waterman vanished with a speed which was really marvellous for him,
+leaving the two together. The last time they had met face to face they
+had met as antagonists, and had fought hard. The memory of that time was
+present to both of them, for neither seemed anxious to break the
+silence.
+
+"Do I understand that you wish to see me?" Stanley presently asked.
+
+"Yes; it was kind of you to come."
+
+"You needn't compliment me, for I mightn't have come had I known whom I
+had to meet," answered Stanley coldly. "Waterman misled me."
+
+"Anyhow, I'm glad you have come, and so will you be, I think, before you
+go back. I hope you don't look upon me as an enemy?"
+
+"How else can I look upon you? Have you sent for me to mock me?"
+
+"That's my last wish. I've sent for you to prevent you doing a great
+wrong to a friend of yours--Paul Percival."
+
+"A friend of mine!" repeated Stanley, scornfully.
+
+"Well, one who was your friend, and who, I hope, will soon be your
+friend again."
+
+"You have more reason to be thankful to him than I have," laughed
+Stanley, bitterly. "He ran away from you, and left me with the work he
+hadn't the courage to go on with. I know that I didn't come very well
+out of it, but I didn't run away."
+
+"No; you did well--much better than I did. I'm sorry, very sorry, I
+fought with you. More so, as by fighting you I separated two friends.
+Often and often I have prayed to be forgiven. It has all been a ghastly
+mistake."
+
+"Mistake? Percival running away--there wasn't much mistake about that,
+I'm thinking."
+
+"That is the greatest mistake of all. All of you put it down to fear of
+me; but it wasn't--far otherwise. I don't believe that Paul Percival
+knows what fear is; and you, who were his friend, ought to have known
+that as well as I do."
+
+"So I thought--up till then. After, what could I think? What could any
+of us think?"
+
+"Your best of him, instead of your worst. Haven't you ever suspected the
+reason why he would not stand up to me?"
+
+"Never! Why?"
+
+"Blind--blind! Do you remember that Percival on one occasion--during
+last vacation--helped a gentleman in distress by acting as his
+messenger?"
+
+"Quite well, seeing that that gentleman was my father."
+
+"Your father? Yes, that was the gentleman, I believe, for whom Percival
+did this kindness. He was set upon by the way by two ruffians, but
+managed to escape. Did he ever tell you how he managed it?"
+
+"By hiding down a well."
+
+"Right! But there was a boy who helped him to this queer hiding-place.
+That boy was me!"
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes. On the day Percival came to the sand-pits to meet the champion of
+the Beetles, he little knew whom he was to meet. I knew as little whom I
+was to meet. He looked upon me as one who had saved his life. How could
+he fight me? So he turned away."
+
+"Why didn't he explain?" asked Stanley.
+
+"And give away his secret, or, rather, your father's secret, before that
+mob of boys? You--you ask that?"
+
+"But after----"
+
+"After? From what he has told me, he made more than one effort to
+explain to you, but you would never listen to him."
+
+It was true enough. Stanley remembered it all--the effort Paul had made
+to speak to him immediately after the fight, and later. Everything was
+now clear. How noble Paul had been! How he had wronged him! He covered
+his face with his hands. He could not speak. Wyndham respected his
+silence.
+
+At length he placed his hand upon the bowed shoulder. Stanley did not
+shrink from it.
+
+"I'm sorry if I've caused you pain; but it was the only way. Mischief is
+being done. You must prevent it from going any further."
+
+"I will--I will! You can trust me," cried Stanley, fervently. "Paul,
+Paul, how I've wronged you!"
+
+"I'm glad you see that. You will make it up with him--you will be
+friends with him once more?"
+
+"Yes, yes; if he will have my friendship. But I don't deserve it. I
+deserve kicking. It was kind of you to take so much trouble."
+
+Wyndham turned on his heel, but as suddenly turned round again.
+
+"Would you mind taking my hand, Moncrief?" he said.
+
+Stanley took it in his, and shook it heartily.
+
+"Thanks; I am very sorry it was raised against you. But we understand
+one another better now."
+
+Stanley wiped away the mist that had somehow gathered in his eyes, and
+when he could see clear Wyndham had gone.
+
+Then he went in search of Paul, anxious to ask his forgiveness, and
+undo, as best he could, the mischief that had been done. But he could
+not find him.
+
+He searched everywhere with the same result. And, what was still more
+astonishing, his cousin was also missing.
+
+Night came on, and still Paul and Harry were missing from the school.
+
+Mr. Weevil began to get alarmed. It was past ten, and still no news of
+the missing boys. What had become of them?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+IN THE FOX'S HOLE
+
+
+What had become of Paul? What was the cause of his absence from the
+school? Had he heard of the decision come to by his Form, and instead of
+waiting to be expelled, had he left of his own accord? That was the view
+of Newall and others of the Fifth.
+
+"About the best thing he could have done," said Parfitt. "It wasn't only
+the flag business, but there were other things in the background. The
+Black Book business has never been cleared up, you know."
+
+Parfitt made this remark in his most significant manner, with uplifted
+eyebrows and a shrug of the shoulders.
+
+"That's right. Kick a man when he's down," drawled Waterman. "Parfitt's
+better at a drop kick than any fellow I know."
+
+The Third were just as much concerned over the disappearance of
+Moncrief, jun., as the Fifth were over the disappearance of Percival.
+Stanley was doubly anxious--anxious for Paul, anxious for his cousin.
+
+Could they have gone away together? That was scarcely likely. They were
+hardly on speaking terms for one thing; and even if the idea of running
+away from Garside had suddenly come into Paul's head, it was not at all
+likely that he had induced Harry to run away with him. What, then, had
+happened?
+
+While the school was thus anxiously awaiting news of the missing boys,
+we will try to explain what had really happened.
+
+Paul knew that a meeting of his Form had been called, and that he and
+his doings were to be discussed, probably censured. When would the time
+arrive that he might take steps to defend himself? When would his lips
+be unsealed? How much longer would Mr. Moncrief keep him in suspense,
+and what had become of Zuker?
+
+Unconsciously Paul had strayed from the school to the garden where
+Hibbert had, not so long since, fallen asleep--in the sleep that knows
+no waking. He sat for a long time under the tree, thinking of these
+things, with no one to disturb his thoughts, save the birds that
+fluttered around him as they used to flutter around Hibbert.
+
+What had become of Hibbert's father? Again and again the question came
+to him, and he could not dismiss it from his thoughts. He thought of the
+strange circumstance under which he had last seen him--of that weird
+scene in the cave with the man Brockman. All that had happened at that
+interview was fixed indelibly on his memory. He could see Zuker tracing
+with his finger on the chart the passage of the Dutch to the
+Medway--could hear his voice as he described all that had happened as
+they broke the chain on the river and advanced on Upnor Castle.
+Then--then had followed the strange appearance of the master, and the
+still stranger interview between him and Zuker.
+
+Was the cave still there? Often and often a strong desire had seized
+Paul to go there again, but he had resisted it. Now, however, as he
+thought of all that had happened on the evening he went there, the
+impulse grew so strong upon him that he could wrestle with it no longer.
+He must respond to its call.
+
+So, as one under some mighty spell, Paul passed from the garden, and was
+soon on his way to Cranstead Common.
+
+It was beginning to get dusk as he followed the trail along which he had
+once followed in the footsteps of Mr. Weevil. After travelling some time
+in the direction of the river, he came to the thickly-wooded part, where
+the master had disappeared.
+
+Searching amongst the brambles, he found the curious division which
+marked the centre, and placing his hand beneath the bushes as before, he
+was not long in finding the ring that was attached to the circular
+opening. Raising it, he entered again the sloping tunnel cut in the
+sandstone.
+
+Though he had only been in that tunnel once before, he had travelled
+along it so often in imagination since that it seemed to him he was on
+familiar ground. He had hesitated when he first entered it. He knew not
+whither it would lead him, what dangers might meet him on the way. He
+hesitated no longer. Still he walked cautiously, with his hands before
+him, like a blind man in the darkness, until it began to broaden. Once
+he thought he heard footsteps behind him, and he came to a sudden pause.
+Was some one really following him, or was it only the echo of his own
+footsteps?
+
+He listened attentively, but could hear nothing. It was as silent as the
+tomb.
+
+"My ears must have deceived me," he told himself, as he continued his
+way.
+
+Presently he came to that part of the tunnel where a faint film of light
+penetrated into it, and again the fantastic shadows he had before seen
+seemed to menace him at every footstep he took. The cave, then, was not
+deserted. It was still inhabited by some one. Who? Zuker and
+Brockman--the same tenants as before, or had some one else come into
+possession?
+
+Yes, there was the curtain, partly concealing the main entrance to the
+cave. To reach it, he crawled on hands and knees as before, and peered
+through the space between the curtain and the wall.
+
+There was no anthracite fire burning this time. It was dimly lighted by
+one of the lamps suspended from the roof. There was no sign of life. The
+place seemed deserted.
+
+Paul waited for a long time listening. No sound came from the cave. It
+was as silent as the tomb. But as he listened, he thought that he could
+again hear the sound of a light step behind him, coming along the path
+he had travelled.
+
+Was it possible that some one else had entered the tunnel? Surely the
+master had not again followed unconsciously in his footsteps? Paul
+turned his head and listened, but it was as silent in that direction as
+the other.
+
+"I'm getting as nervous as a kitten," he laughed to himself. "My ears
+have again deceived me."
+
+No one appeared to be in the cave. Mr. Moncrief had said in his letter
+that he knew about Zuker's movements. Could it have been that he had
+been arrested? It was just possible. Anyhow, he would like to have a
+nearer view of the cave. There could be no danger, and if there were, it
+was worth the risk.
+
+So Paul rose from his hiding-place behind the curtain, and stepped
+cautiously into the cave. The guns and cutlasses were still hanging on
+the wall, but the models and designs had gone, and the photographic
+camera had gone from its niche.
+
+There was a passage on the other side of the chamber similar to the one
+through which he had come.
+
+"Where does that lead to, I wonder?" thought Paul.
+
+There could be no harm in exploring it a little way. He might just as
+well know where it led to, if it were possible to find out. The
+information might be useful. Paul was animated with the adventurous
+spirit of the explorer, which knows no rest until it is satisfied. He
+crossed to the opening. At the moment he reached it, a figure emerged
+from the darkness, and confronted him. It was Zuker.
+
+It was so sudden, so unexpected, that Paul could not move. He stood
+there as one rooted to the spot. Before he could move, the man had
+sprung upon him with the swiftness of a tiger, and seizing him by the
+throat, dragged him to the light.
+
+"You!" he cried. "The boy from Garside. Your name is----"
+
+"Paul Percival," gasped Paul, as the fierce grip relaxed.
+
+"Paul Percival. _Ach Himmel!_ It is Fate itself."
+
+He had in turn shrunk back, as though Paul were no longer a being of
+flesh and blood, but a phantom. Then he murmured hoarsely to himself:
+"Weevil was right. The hand of a Higher than man is in it."
+
+In the uncertain light he had not at first recognized Paul; but now he
+saw him, and knew that just as he had once been face to face with the
+father at a supreme crisis in his life, now he was face to face with the
+son. Had Paul seized that moment of stupefaction, he might have escaped,
+but he made no effort. And the moment passed.
+
+"Who showed you this place? Who brought you here?" demanded Zuker,
+himself again.
+
+"No one; I found it out myself."
+
+"How?"
+
+"That is my secret."
+
+Zuker's hand went to his breast, to a weapon concealed there.
+
+"Be careful how you answer, boy. You're not now in school, and you
+haven't a school-master to deal with. Is this the first time you've been
+here?"
+
+"No."
+
+Zuker started in spite of himself.
+
+"Not the first time! How many times have you been here before then, may
+I ask?"
+
+"Once."
+
+"_Ach!_ Now I understand. It is through you my plans have been defeated.
+It is through you my man--_mein_ Brockman--has been arrested. It is
+through you that I have scarcely dared venture from this hole for two
+days past. You have been a mean, dirty spy."
+
+"As you were to my father when I was a child." The words were upon
+Paul's lips, but he forced them back. Then aloud, "I've not been a spy.
+I've told no one."
+
+Zuker looked searchingly into Paul's face.
+
+"Who has told, then--who has given information to the police, to what is
+called your Secret Investigation Department--if it is not you?"
+
+Paul was silent. He now understood Mr. Moncrief's letter. It must have
+been Mr. Weevil who had given information to Mr. Moncrief, it must have
+been he who had kept him informed of Zuker's doings. Mr. Weevil was not
+a traitor to his country, after all. Nay, it seemed as though he had
+striven, in his peculiar way, to defend it against traitors.
+
+"Silent, eh? I can see what you've told me is false. You have worked
+against me from the first. It was you who outwitted me once before. It
+was you who got that packet through to the man who has always stood
+between me and my plans, the Admiralty man, Moncrief. All would have
+been over; I should have got all through had it not been for that. _Ach
+Himmel_, you will not have the chance of blabbing any more secrets! I
+have you now--tight in the Fox's Hole--and you will not leave it alive.
+Let me see what your school is good for. I will give you five minutes
+to get ready for _sterblichkeit_. _Ach_, it is a long word! Do you know
+what it means?"
+
+Paul knew what it meant. It was the German word for mortality.
+
+"Thank you," answered Paul simply. "That is longer than my father had
+when he was called upon to die, and it should be enough for me."
+
+Zuker's hand trembled as it fingered the weapon concealed in his breast.
+Paul closed his eyes, and repeated in a low, yet clear voice:
+
+"'Our Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom
+come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day
+our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that
+trespass against us----"
+
+"Halt! Stop!" cried Zuker hoarsely. "You spoke of your father just
+now--how he died. Tell me quickly how it was."
+
+"He was drowned, in saving the life of a man who had robbed him."
+
+"_Ach!_ And do you know who that man was?"
+
+No answer came from Paul's lips for several seconds, seconds that seemed
+as hours. Deep silence reigned in the cave, then it was broken by the
+clear voice of the boy:
+
+"Yes; I know who that man was. He called himself Israel Zuker."
+
+Zuker could not repress a movement of astonishment as Paul pronounced
+his name.
+
+"Knowing this--knowing that it was through me your father lost his life,
+you could yet say that prayer--'As we forgive them that trespass against
+us'? You are as brave as your father was," came hoarsely from his lips.
+
+"I could wish no greater praise than that," answered Paul. "But I had
+not finished. Shall I go on?"
+
+"You need not be in so great a hurry. Wait till I tell you. I have one
+or two more questions to ask you. How did you come to know that I was
+the man who spied upon your father--the man through whom he lost his
+life--the man----_Ach!_" He stopped himself suddenly. His brow darkened;
+the veins stood out in knots upon his forehead. "Fool! Why didn't I
+guess it? I see it all now. It is your master--it is Weevil who told
+you. It is Weevil who has betrayed me."
+
+His hand went to the weapon in his breast again.
+
+"No, you are mistaken; Mr. Weevil has told me nothing. He has not
+betrayed you."
+
+"You are telling me false. You are trying to mislead me. Beware! No one
+else knew my secret. Who else could tell you?"
+
+"I learned it from a little fellow whom I loved as a brother, and who
+loved me as a brother, too. Alas, he is now dead! We called him
+Hibbert."
+
+"Hibbert--my son!" Zuker's voice softened wonderfully as the words
+passed his lips; then it hardened again, as he demanded: "How was it my
+son came to betray me?"
+
+"It was after that accident on the river. Perhaps you have forgotten? It
+was I who helped him back to the school. And the dear little chap was
+always so grateful for it--always made such an awful fuss about it. That
+was his way--ever so much too sensitive and grateful. Poor little chap!"
+
+Paul brushed the back of his hand quickly across his eyes; and somehow
+the man did the same.
+
+"Well, I was often with him after that," he presently continued. "He
+felt that he would never get well, I think, and I could see that he
+suffered a good deal from something he had on his mind. I never guessed
+what it was; but one night, when I was sitting beside him, he told me
+that he could not sleep because of it, and he felt that if he didn't
+speak, God would never forgive him. That's how it was he came to tell me
+that you, Israel Zuker, were his father."
+
+"I see--I see! Now I understand!"
+
+Zuker strode across and across the chamber, as though uncertain how to
+act. At length he disappeared into one of the recesses of the cave,
+evidently used as a storehouse, and almost as instantly appeared again
+with a coil of rope in his hands.
+
+"For all you did for my son, I spare your life; but I must keep you here
+for a few hours. My safety depends on it."
+
+Paul knew that it was useless to protest. He knew well enough that
+Zuker had the power of shooting him as a dog, and he was not the man to
+stand any nonsense. So he allowed himself to be bound; and when he had
+bound him, Zuker brought out some cushions from the recess, and placed
+Paul on them.
+
+"There! I am making you as comfortable as circumstances will permit," he
+said. "_Gute nacht_--good-night. Remember Israel Zuker again in your
+prayers. _Ach!_ it was good of you to be kind to my boy when others so
+mocked and hated him. Adieu!"
+
+With these words, he passed swiftly out by the way he had come. Paul
+rested for a few minutes, thinking quietly over the strange interview
+through which he had just passed. It was kind of Zuker to spare his
+life, but he did not much appreciate the prospect of lying there, bound
+hand and foot, for several hours--nay, it might so happen that Zuker
+would never return.
+
+His last words had an odd sound. It was difficult to know what he meant
+by them. He might have an intention of returning, or he might not.
+Perhaps he was uncertain himself. He knew well enough that he might be
+arrested at any moment, just as his confederate had been. In that case
+he (Paul) might lie there, bound hand and foot, for days and nights,
+gradually getting weaker and weaker, and finally dying of starvation.
+The prospect was not a very agreeable one.
+
+So Paul determined to do his best to free himself of the coils that
+bound him. He was a strong boy, and struggled might and main to loosen
+them; but Zuker seemed to have tied them with devilish cunning. Struggle
+as Paul would, he was unable to loosen them. And the more he struggled,
+the more the rope cut into his flesh.
+
+"My! The tightest knots I've ever struck," said Paul, as he lay back
+gasping.
+
+"Paul!"
+
+What was that? An echo, or some one calling him by name?
+
+"Paul!"
+
+There it was again. Surely it was some one calling him. He tried to turn
+his quivering limbs in the direction whence the voice came. Was he awake
+or was he dreaming?
+
+The figure of a boy was creeping towards him--creeping, as it seemed
+to him, from the shadows in the tunnel. Who--who was it? Was it
+really a being of flesh and blood? At first it seemed to him that
+it must be the wraith of the little fellow about whom he had been
+speaking--Hibbert--but even as the thought filtered through his mind the
+boy was kneeling beside him, looking anxiously into his face.
+
+It was Moncrief minor.
+
+"Harry!" cried Paul in amazement.
+
+"Are you all right?" came in a whisper from the boy.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BOY WAS KNEELING BESIDE HIM,--IT WAS MONCRIEF
+MINOR.... 'ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?' CAME IN A WHISPER FROM THE BOY."]
+
+"Right enough, but not altogether comfortable. Where in the name of
+wonder did you spring from?"
+
+"Is there any chance of that man you called Zuker coming back?"
+
+"No; you may be sure of that."
+
+"Then, first, let me get that rope off."
+
+Paul, as may be imagined, was by no means opposed to that proceeding. So
+Harry drew out his pocket-knife and promptly severed his bonds.
+
+"Ah, that's better," cried Paul, springing to his feet and stretching
+his limbs. "It's worth while being tied up, so as to feel how nice it is
+to be free again. Now perhaps you'll tell me how you got here?"
+
+"There's really no fear of that man, Zuker, coming back?"
+
+"No; I'm sure of it."
+
+"Then I'll explain. First of all, I must tell you that I've done a mean
+thing. You lost a letter when that scrimmage took place between you and
+Stan in the Common Room. I found it, and seeing that it was from my
+father, read it; then I was too ashamed to give it back to you, so I
+kept it. Hearing that there'd been a meeting about you in the Forum, I
+took the letter to Stan and showed it to him. As I came away from
+interviewing Stan, I saw you hurrying through the gates. You looked
+round, and seemed anxious that no one should see you. That made me
+curious. I'd just been reading my father's letter to you--remember. I'd
+begun to see there was some mystery which wanted clearing up. Why
+shouldn't I have a hand in it? I asked myself. So forgive me, Paul, I
+followed you."
+
+Paul was silent. How could he blame him? Was it not the same spirit of
+curiosity which had first led him to that place?
+
+"It was fortunately dusk, and I took good care that you shouldn't see
+me," continued Harry. "Besides, you seemed to be so taken up with your
+own thoughts that you scarcely looked round once when you had gained the
+common. It was easy following you after that. I was never so puzzled in
+my life when I saw you creeping about amongst the bushes, then disappear
+through the ground.
+
+"I was so close to you then, that I saw the exact place where you had
+disappeared, so that it did not take me long to find the opening to the
+tunnel. I must say that I funked following you farther; but my curiosity
+grew. I was on the verge of a big discovery. If I followed you, I should
+find out the secret which would explain the mystery about you, and set
+you right with the school. Believe me, Paul, that was what I longed for,
+and I don't think that anything short of that would have made me go
+farther, and so I felt my way along the tunnel until I could just see
+you stretched at full length beside the curtains at the entrance to this
+place."
+
+Paul recalled the sounds he had heard as he made his way along the
+tunnel. His hearing had not deceived him after all.
+
+"I was still more amazed when I saw that, I can tell you. I was struck
+all of a heap," went on Harry. "What were you up to? What were you doing
+there? You seemed to be watching for somebody. Who? I was burning. I got
+more and more curious. All thought of turning back had gone. I must find
+out what it all meant. So, when you rose to your feet, and stepped
+cautiously into this chamber, I just as cautiously crept to the place
+where you had been lying, and watched you moving about. Then I saw the
+man you called Zuker enter, and all that went on after.
+
+"It was fearful, Paul. I saw you were in a fix, but I could do nothing
+to help you. Once I tried to cry out. It was when that man used the long
+foreign word. I did not understand what it meant at first, though you
+seemed to; but presently, when you began to say 'Our Father,' I knew
+what it meant. Then it was I tried to cry out, but no word came from my
+parched throat. I think it must have been God who prevented me from
+crying out, for had I done so, it might have been worse for both of us.
+
+"A minute later I could see that a great change had come over the man
+when you began speaking about your father and Hibbert. Then I was
+knocked all of a heap again when I learned that poor little Hibbert was
+the man's son, and that you knew it. I think that the time I passed
+while I was watching and listening behind the curtain was the most awful
+I have ever been through--yes, worse than the time on the raft, and
+that's saying a great deal; but there was one good thing about it--I was
+beginning to see how we had all wronged you at Garside--what a noble
+fellow you really are, Paul."
+
+"Humbug! Get on."
+
+"There's little more to tell. I didn't so much mind when the man bound
+you, especially as I saw that he was going to leave you. I waited till
+he had gone--long enough to make sure that he didn't mean popping in his
+head again; then I crept from my hiding-place. The rest you know. I hope
+you're not sorry I followed you?"
+
+Paul began to think that the hand of God was in this, as it had been in
+so many other things. It must have been Something Higher than mere
+chance which had prompted Harry to follow him to that place.
+
+"Heaven only knows what might have happened to me, Harry, if you hadn't
+followed me. But come, we mustn't waste any more time. We don't want to
+spend the night in this place."
+
+"Not quite, though I would not mind exploring it some other time,"
+exclaimed Harry, gazing round the chamber curiously. "Plunger would give
+something to strike on a place like this. It's chalks better than desert
+islands. Where does that other passage-way lead to?"
+
+Paul had more than once put the same question to him self. That place of
+mystery had often been in his thoughts since the day he had first
+visited it, and frequently had he asked himself--Where does it lead to
+on the other side? He had now seen clearly enough that there must be
+some way out on the other side, for Zuker had gone that way. If he
+could only find out, the information might be of some service to Harry's
+father.
+
+"I don't know, Harry; but I'd very much like to find out. Would you mind
+waiting here for a few minutes? I won't be long."
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"Going to explore--just a little way. The coast's clear."
+
+"Going to explore? Well, then, I do mind waiting here. If you mean
+exploring, I mean going with you."
+
+"Very well, Harry, we'll explore together."
+
+So the two boys passed together through the passage on the other side of
+the chamber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+THE BURNING SHIP
+
+
+The two boys had not gone very far before they came to a pause. It was
+impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them because of the
+darkness.
+
+"Let's try to get a light," suggested Paul. "We can get one, I think, in
+the place we've just come from."
+
+They returned to the chamber. Paul entered the recess from which Zuker
+had brought the rope and the cushions, and found that it was quite a
+storehouse; one part of it for provisions, tinned meats, fruits, fish;
+another for wood, tools, weapons, models; a third, for a curiously mixed
+wardrobe, which Paul guessed served the purpose of disguise. Here he
+found a lantern and matches, and thus provided with a light, they
+resumed their way.
+
+The gallery or tunnel along which they now passed was about two hundred
+feet long. The width, as Paul roughly judged, was about thirteen feet,
+narrowing to some six or seven feet at the top. It had been cut through
+the chalk bed, at a depth of about six feet below the sand which covered
+it. At the end of this gallery were two passages, extending right and
+left. Passing down the former, they found it blocked by heaps of sand
+and chalk.
+
+"It's quite certain we can't get out that way, Harry," said Paul; "we'd
+better try the other."
+
+So, retracing their footsteps once more, they passed along the other
+passage. It was not so wide as the one they had already traversed, but
+the way was clear for a hundred yards or so; then the tunnel came
+abruptly to an end.
+
+Paul regarded the wall in wonder. There was no way through it. Where,
+then, had Zuker gone? How had he managed to get out? Paul held the
+lantern up and examined the roof. It was clear to see that he was
+standing below what had once been the shaft to the tunnel. There were
+footholes in the sides.
+
+"Ah, there's the way out! Hold the lantern, Harry, while I try to find
+the open sesame," said Paul.
+
+Harry took the lantern, and Paul quickly made his way by means of the
+footholes to the top. He could then see that there was a square space
+which, though similar in appearance to the rest of the gallery,
+concealed the entrance to the shaft. He pushed it upward. It gave
+easily. It was a trap-door, leading into a square, ramshackle shed!
+
+Paul made his way through into the shed, and a minute later Harry
+followed his example. They closed the trap-door, which then formed part
+of the floor, and completely concealed the opening into the shaft.
+
+"Well, if that doesn't beat all!" exclaimed Harry, as the trap-door
+fell. "Mr. Zuker and his confederates must have been very tricky. No one
+would imagine what's beneath this old shed. Hallo! What's that?"
+
+As Harry spoke a lurid gleam of light lit up the semi-darkness of the
+shed; only for an instant; then it as quickly died out.
+
+"Seems like a fire somewhere," said Paul, as he tried to open the door
+of the shed; but it would not open. It was locked on the outside.
+
+"We shall have to get through the window, Harry."
+
+There was a small window on the right of the shed, just wide enough to
+get through.
+
+"All right. Follow my leader, Paul."
+
+Paul soon mounted to the window and climbed through. Harry quickly
+followed him. As he reached the ground there came another lurid gleam of
+light; then it died out as quickly as before.
+
+"There it goes again, Paul. What is it?"
+
+Paul was asking himself the same question. What was it? Whence did the
+light come? It was a dark night--no moon and few stars. But in the
+distance they could see lights flitting about like will-o'-the-wisps
+from the mastheads of ships; so they knew they were not far from the
+Medway.
+
+"Thought so. We're close to the river," said Paul. "Now that we've found
+out all that we can, we'd better make for Garside."
+
+"Yes. Hallo! there it goes again! Why--why, it's a ship on fire!"
+exclaimed Harry.
+
+It was now clear enough to see that Harry was right. A ship was on fire.
+The flames, at first spasmodic, uncertain, had now gained a complete
+hold of the ship, and were shooting upward, like fiery serpents, into
+the sky.
+
+All thought of Garside vanished from the boys' minds as they raced
+towards the river. As they drew nearer, they could see that the unusual
+spectacle had already attracted a great throng of spectators to the
+banks.
+
+Little wonder, for as the flames crept upward to the rigging, writhing
+inward and outward to the arms, it was a grand, if terrible sight. And
+there was pathos in it, too; for the ship on fire was one of the great
+wooden ships in the Navy of the past. Its day of action--of
+fighting--had long since passed. So, moored in midstream, it had been
+used as a storeship.
+
+The signal-lights "Ship on Fire" flashed along the river, and a
+picket-boat from a flagship, with other boats, approached as near as
+they could to the burning ship. Was there anybody on board? It seemed
+not--so far, at least, as could be seen.
+
+But suddenly a cry of horror went up from the crowd. A man had suddenly
+made his appearance on the deck. He rushed about like a hunted fox,
+trying to elude its pursuers; then, finding it impossible, flung
+himself, with a strange cry that long haunted Paul's ears, into the
+river.
+
+Paul knew that the man was Zuker. The picket-boat tried to reach him,
+but could not. The fire had enveloped the sides of the old ship, and
+shot out tongues of flame from every porthole. For the space of a minute
+Zuker's figure was seen silhouetted in flame against the darkness. Then
+the waters closed over him, and he was seen no more.
+
+"That--that was Zuker. I'm sure of it," Paul whispered to Harry, when he
+could speak.
+
+"I thought it looked like him, too," said Harry, in an awestruck
+whisper. "What could he be doing on that ship?"
+
+"Up to no good, I'm afraid; but good or ill, his work is ended now."
+
+Zuker had at last come to his death by the element from which Paul's
+father had saved him so long ago.
+
+"Yes; I don't think he'll trouble anybody again," answered Harry, as he
+slipped his arm, with a shudder, through Paul's.
+
+The flames from the middle of the ship were now leaping fifty feet into
+the air. The river manuals played upon it, but made little or no
+impression. It seemed to hiss back contempt and defiance as the water
+fell.
+
+The excitement of the spectators grew, for a new and terrible source of
+danger had revealed itself. The chains by which the old ship was moored
+were beginning to give way. If that happened, she might drift, a mass of
+flame, against any one of the warships lying in her path.
+
+"I say, Paul, this business may get father into a mess," Harry
+whispered.
+
+Paul had forgotten, for the time, Mr. Moncrief's connection with the
+Government dockyard. Harry's words reminded him. A dread fear took
+possession of him. Perhaps the fire had all been designed--perhaps it
+was the work of an incendiary, and that incendiary Mr. Moncrief's
+enemy--Zuker. So long as the fire was limited to the old wooden ship it
+would not much matter, but if it once got from its moorings, it was
+impossible to say where the mischief would end.
+
+"Oh, you needn't worry about your father, Harry," Paul answered, putting
+on his most cheerful voice and manner. "No one could blame him for a
+ship catching fire."
+
+"I don't know so much about that. Pater's held responsible for almost
+everything. It's a great shame, that's what it is."
+
+Paul thought the same, but did not venture to express an opinion. A buzz
+of excitement from the crowd broke in upon his meditations.
+
+Looking in the direction in which all eyes were turned, he saw that a
+gunboat was steaming along the river. It was making for the flaming
+hulk.
+
+"What's it going to do?" cried Harry, clutching Paul's arm excitedly.
+"It'll be right into the burning ship."
+
+Paul was too intent on watching the man[oe]uvres of the gunboat to
+answer.
+
+Suddenly, when it had got to within one hundred yards of the burning
+ship, it stopped and opened fire, just as though it had entered into
+action. Its target was the old ship--a mass of flame from bow to stern.
+The first shell, missing its mark, went hissing into the river. Jets of
+water shot upward into the air and fell in a sparkling cascade.
+
+Boom! A flash of light from the gunboat, a whiff of smoke. This time the
+shell finds its target. Myriads of sparks are whirled in a mad dance to
+the heavens, then drop again like golden rain into the river. Shell
+followed shell. The old warship, engaged in its last great battle,
+fought grimly on. Like the old Guard, it refused to surrender. Twelve
+shots had been fired. Raked from bow to stern, it was a pathetic
+spectacle, like some huge leviathan lying wounded to death on the water,
+with its undaunted heart throbbing a requiem.
+
+Shell could not vanquish it, so a charge of guncotton was exploded
+immediately beneath it; then the old warship gave a lurch. There was a
+flash of light--its last dying effort. After, darkness. The great tongue
+of flame was engulfed in the waters.
+
+The boys had been so absorbed in the terrible spectacle that they had
+taken no heed of time. But when the ship had gone down, they found that
+it was ten o'clock. Garside was a good three miles distant, so that it
+would be close upon eleven before they reached the school again.
+
+Three or four search-parties had been formed under the masters, and they
+met one of these as they neared the gates. It had been decided between
+Paul and Harry that nothing should be said about their adventures in the
+cave until Paul had had an explanation with Mr. Weevil. There was, of
+course, no reason why they should not speak of the exciting spectacle
+they had witnessed on the river.
+
+"It must have been a remarkable sight," admitted Mr. Travers, the head
+of the search-party, "but I don't think Mr. Weevil is likely to accept
+it as an excuse for your long absence from the school. Besides, you had
+no business to take with you a junior boy."
+
+Harry was about to explain that he had followed of his own accord, but a
+glance from Paul kept him silent. When they reached the school, they
+found Mr. Weevil awaiting them in the hall. He seemed to know that
+something unusual had happened.
+
+"Come to my room, Percival," he said.
+
+Percival followed him to his room, just as he had done on that day when
+Hibbert died.
+
+"Something has happened. What is it?" he demanded, as he closed the
+door.
+
+There was no need for secrecy longer, so Paul told the master
+everything--how he had discovered Hibbert's parentage; how he had
+discovered the cave, and all the events that had happened in the train
+of these discoveries up to the moment of Zuker's death.
+
+"Zuker dead!" exclaimed the master, when Paul came to this part of his
+story. "You are sure of it?"
+
+"As certain as I can be of anything, sir."
+
+Mr. Weevil paced up and down the room with his arms behind him. It was
+very clear to Paul to observe that he was very much agitated.
+
+"Dead! dead!" he kept repeating; then suddenly stopped, and confronting
+Paul astonished him by abruptly demanding: "And what do you think of
+me--eh? What do you think of your master--eh? You think him a precious
+scoundrel--eh? You think that he ought to be with Zuker in the
+river--eh?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX
+
+THE PETITION--WHAT BEFELL IT
+
+
+The master put the questions--the questions which formed so strong an
+indictment against himself--with grim solemnity. Paul scarcely knew how
+to answer him, so was silent.
+
+"Well?" persisted Mr. Weevil.
+
+"I must say that at one time I was suspicious of you, sir. I thought you
+were in league with traitors against your country--against England."
+
+"When did your opinion alter?"
+
+"When I heard you in the cave appealing to Zuker to give up his scheme;
+when I heard you telling him that the hand of a Higher than man was in
+it. Then I remembered that however stern you had been to others, you had
+been kind and tender to Hibbert, and it slowly dawned upon me that it
+was for poor Hibbert's sake you kept in with Zuker, that for his sake
+you were playing a part you did not care for."
+
+"Thank you. I'm glad you've done me justice in your own mind, Percival,"
+answered the master, with more feeling than he was in the habit of
+displaying. "You have guessed my motive precisely. It was for Hibbert's
+sake--the son of the sister I loved--that I kept on friendly terms with
+Zuker. But my duty to Hibbert--my love for him--did not make me blind to
+the interests of my country. All along I have been in communication with
+the Moncriefs. It was I who first communicated with Mr. Henry Moncrief,
+in cipher, the information of Zuker's arrival in England. It was
+arranged, however, that Zuker was to be allowed to develop his plans,
+along with his confederates, before any action was taken to checkmate
+him. The Admiralty wished to obtain complete information of all the
+details of the scheme, and I alone was in the position of giving it
+them. First of all, however, I made my terms with the Admiralty. They
+were these: When Zuker's plans were developed, they were at liberty to
+take what action they pleased to counteract those plans, and arrest any
+accomplice who might be engaged in work with Zuker, but I made this
+proviso, that no step should be taken to arrest Zuker himself, without
+my knowledge and sanction. Furthermore, that in return for the
+information I was able to furnish as to every detail of the plot, I was
+to be permitted in the last resort to warn Zuker, so that he might
+escape to his native country, if he cared to.
+
+"In that interview you overheard, I made my first strong appeal to him.
+Unfortunately it was not successful, and worse than that, he became
+suspicious of me. The death of dear little Hibbert took away the only
+link that bound me to Zuker. One or two of his confederates were
+arrested, and he himself became conscious that the net was closing round
+himself. Your appearance in his hiding-place must have brought that home
+to him. What happened after that I can only guess. I have two
+theories--the first, that, in escaping by the river, he might have taken
+refuge for a time on the old battleship, and was in hiding at the time
+when the fire broke out. The other theory is that, recognizing that his
+schemes had been a complete failure, he deliberately set fire to the
+ship, and perished in the flames. He who knows the motives as well as
+the actions of all men, will alone know which of these theories is the
+right one. God be merciful to him, as to me, miserable sinner."
+
+Mr. Weevil stood with bowed head. And as he breathed, thus reverently,
+the response he had so often heard, Paul felt his mother's hand stealing
+into his, as it had so often stolen into it in the village church in
+days gone by, when the good vicar read the Litany, and prayed for
+deliverance from "lightning and tempest, from plague, pestilence, and
+famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death." The man who had
+brought about "the sudden death" of his father, had ended his with
+tragic swiftness, and now stood before the Judge of all. The time for
+the last great trial had come for Israel Zuker.
+
+"Before Him--before the Judge of all men," said Mr. Weevil, at length
+breaking the silence, "I hope to justify myself for what I have done, as
+well as for what I have left undone, but in the meantime I shall never
+forget the part that you have played, Percival. It is true, profoundly
+true, that no good deed is ever lost. Your kindness to Hibbert will ever
+be a sacred memory to me. Good-night, Percival, and God bless you."
+
+"Good-night sir."
+
+And Paul, with his heart very full, turned from the room.
+
+When Paul went out, Mr. Weevil did not retire to rest. He was one of
+those men who require very little sleep. He unlocked a drawer in his
+desk, and took from it several loose sheets of paper, with entries on
+them. These he regarded closely for a moment or two, then leaned
+reflectively back in his chair, with eyes closed. Then he looked at the
+pages again, together with some memoranda jotted on a separate sheet of
+paper. His scrutiny ended, he put them back into the drawer, and locked
+them up again.
+
+Having done this, he took up a sheet of foolscap, on which was written,
+in the form of a petition, the resolution of the Fifth calling upon Mr.
+Weevil to expel Percival from Garside. To this petition were attached
+the names of the mover and seconder of the resolution--Stanley Moncrief
+and Parfitt--followed by the names of the other boys in the Form, with
+the exception of Waterman.
+
+Mr. Weevil had not yet answered this unusual petition, so he took up a
+pen and paper and wrote:
+
+"Mr. Weevil's compliments, and he will be pleased to meet the Fifth, and
+go into their petition to-morrow. As so delicate a matter cannot be
+discussed before the whole school, the form will return to the
+class-room, where the master will come to them at the end of the day's
+work. One last proviso, as it is the conduct of Percival which has been
+impugned, it will, of course, be necessary for him to be present at the
+inquiry, so that he may be heard in his own defence."
+
+This note he folded up, placed in an envelope, and directed to Hasluck,
+the head of the Form. The following morning it was delivered to Hasluck
+by Bax, the porter. Having read it, Hasluck passed it round the Form.
+Waterman was next to Percival. Instead of passing it to him, he just
+glanced at it and passed it back to Parfitt with a yawn.
+
+"Doesn't interest me. More in your line, Parfitt."
+
+Waterman, in this dexterous manner, escaped the painful duty of passing
+on a note for which he was in no way responsible.
+
+As he afterwards said, "he liked to see others troubling over their own
+underhand business."
+
+Parfitt bit his lip, then, without a word, handed it to Paul. Paul read
+it. He had no difficulty in understanding its meaning. Harry had told
+him about the meeting that had been held about him. This letter was the
+result of it.
+
+Adopting Parfitt's own tactics, he handed it back without a word, but he
+could not help stealing a glance at Stanley. His eyes were heavy, as
+though from want of sleep. He looked quite haggard and ill. He kept his
+eyes away from Paul, as though uncertain as to himself. He looked very
+miserable, and, indeed, he was even more miserable than he looked.
+
+At the close of school that day, the Fifth passed back to their
+class-room. Soon after, Mr. Weevil entered. He looked cold, stern,
+implacable--a different man from the one Paul had seen the previous
+night speaking in tremulous tones about Hibbert. Those little human
+traits seemed to have vanished with the night. He was no longer the man,
+but the judge.
+
+"Step forward, Percival," he said briefly.
+
+Paul stepped forward.
+
+"You know the charge against you?"
+
+"No, sir; I've come to hear."
+
+"The charge is in this petition," said the master, taking up the
+petition, which he unfolded and placed on the desk. "I needn't read it,
+but I can tell you briefly what the charge is. The charge is that you
+connived with the boys of a rival college--St. Bede's--to have the flag,
+which is held in so much honour and esteem here, stolen from the tower."
+
+"Yes, sir. Anything more?" asked Paul, as the master paused and glanced
+down at the petition.
+
+"The petition further alleges that having placed this dishonour on the
+school, you connived with the enemy to keep it by them till it suited
+your time and purpose, and that then you arranged for its return."
+
+"Time and purpose?" repeated Paul. "What purpose?"
+
+"What purpose?" repeated the master, glancing again at the petition. "It
+is clearly enough set forth. Listen. 'Percival had made enemies of his
+Form, and had looked for his friends at St. Bede's. His object in
+getting back the flag was to try to regain at one stroke some of his
+lost popularity.' Is that clear enough?"
+
+"Quite clear, sir. What followed?"
+
+"A resolution was moved and carried, with only one dissentient, that you
+should be expelled from the school."
+
+"Who--who moved the resolution?" asked Percival, with an effort.
+
+"Is it worth while my giving names?"
+
+"I would like to know, sir, if you would be kind enough."
+
+Mr. Weevil glanced at the names. He did not answer. The silence was
+broken by Stanley.
+
+"I moved the resolution, Percival--Paul!" he cried, in a voice that
+seemed to be choking him. "I did you an injustice before all the Form. I
+now ask your pardon before all the Form. I'm ashamed of myself--ashamed
+that I so degraded myself as to move that resolution. My eyes were shut.
+Now they're open. I've been groping about in the dark. Now I'm in the
+light. I was a fool ever to doubt you, but appearances were so against
+you. It was your turning away from Wyndham at the gravel-pits that so
+rankled in my mind, and--and your friendly meetings with him after. I
+did not know----"
+
+"Stop! Not quite so fast!" commanded Mr. Weevil. Stanley had poured out
+at a feverish rate the words that had been burning at his heart
+throughout the whole of the night and day. "Do I understand that you,
+Moncrief major, who proposed this resolution, now wish to withdraw it?"
+
+"Yes, sir; every word of it. I have wronged Percival--deeply wronged
+him, and before all the Form I ask his pardon."
+
+Paul's heart leapt with joy. He cared little what the others might
+think. Stanley had come round of his own accord. He had voluntarily
+asked his pardon. Paul grasped the hand stretched out to him.
+
+"I see that it was you, Parfitt, who seconded this resolution, asking
+that Percival should be expelled from the school. Is it your wish to
+withdraw also?" asked the master.
+
+"Certainly not," said Parfitt indignantly. "I'm not going to turn tail
+because Moncrief has. If Moncrief has sold me, I'm not going to sell all
+the other fellows who signed that petition."
+
+A murmur of approval came from "the other fellows," except Waterman. He
+greeted it with the customary yawn.
+
+"You still hold to your wish that Percival should be expelled from
+Garside?" asked Mr. Weevil.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You understand that expelling a scholar from Garside is a very serious
+matter. It is a grave stigma placed on him at the commencement of his
+career--a stigma which clings to him when he goes from school into the
+sterner battle of life. I'm bound to impress this upon you, Parfitt, so
+that you may understand the gravity of the step you wish me to take."
+
+"I understand, sir. We all understand."
+
+"And you decline to do what Moncrief has done--withdraw from the
+petition?"
+
+"Yes, sir. We can't stand Percival any longer."
+
+"Hear! hear!" from Newall.
+
+Suddenly, to the astonishment of the Form, the master opened the desk
+before him, and drew from it a book.
+
+"You know this book?" he demanded.
+
+Know it? They knew it but too well. It was the dreaded Black Book.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER L
+
+FOUND OUT
+
+
+Why had the master produced the Black Book?
+
+What was it to do with the question whether Percival should or should
+not be expelled?
+
+"You are wondering why I produce the Black Book," said the master
+slowly, as though reading their thoughts. "I will explain--we have never
+yet discovered who tore out the leaves from this book. It occurred to me
+that before taking the step of expelling Percival from the school, it
+would be as well to make one more effort to find out who is the culprit.
+
+"A few weeks ago, I received an anonymous letter suggesting that
+Percival should be questioned as to what he was doing on the night that
+part of the Black Book, and other documents, disappeared from my desk.
+As a rule, I take no heed of anonymous communications. The testimony of
+any one who is ashamed to put his name to a letter is, as a rule,
+worthless. But I was keenly interested in trying to discover who the
+culprit was who opened my desk, and I thought it just possible that if I
+could only find out the writer of this anonymous letter, it might lead
+to other discoveries which would throw light upon the theft of my
+notes."
+
+The boys listened intently. What did it mean? Was yet another and more
+serious charge to be made against Percival?
+
+"The letter was in a disguised hand, like most anonymous letters," the
+master proceeded; "but a master becomes a bit of an expert in
+handwriting, so, with the help of Mr. Travers here, the master of your
+Form, I was not long in finding out who wrote the anonymous letter. It
+was written by Parfitt."
+
+The accusation was made slowly, deliberately, as by one who makes sure
+of his facts before speaking. It fell as a bomb in the midst of the
+listening boys. Parfitt turned to an ashen hue, and muttered something
+between his teeth.
+
+"Speak up, sir! Please not to mutter," commanded Mr. Weevil, turning to
+Parfitt. "Do you deny that this letter"--he held up the anonymous
+letter, with its cramped, disguised handwriting--"is the work of your
+hand?"
+
+Parfitt held up his head, and put on a bold front.
+
+"No, sir; I don't deny it. That letter was written by me. As there were
+other things coming out against Percival, I thought it only right that
+you should make some inquiry into what he was doing on the night when
+the pages were torn from the Black Book. I did not want to push myself
+forward. I thought the inquiry would be better made by you; but as no
+steps seem to have been taken to find out what Percival did, I don't see
+why I should keep back what I know any longer."
+
+"Well, what is it? What do you know? I am here to learn all I can."
+
+"Well, sir, on the night that the pages were torn from the Black Book, I
+saw Percival get out of bed, slip into some of his things, and out of
+the dormitory. I saw him steal along the corridor, for what purpose I
+couldn't guess. I made a pretty good guess the next day."
+
+"Your guess was that Percival opened my desk, and stole the papers?"
+
+"I believe he did, sir. For what else could he have stolen from the
+dormitory in the dead of night?"
+
+"Well, but what could be his purpose? Can you explain that?"
+
+"Oh, that's easy enough explained. There were entries against himself
+and his friend Moncrief in the book. A serious one had been made against
+Moncrief that very afternoon, for which, you will remember, sir, he was
+sent to Dormitory X."
+
+"I remember--quite well," said the master. "Well, Percival, what have
+you to say against this last charge?"
+
+"Only that it is as false as the other."
+
+"Did you leave your dormitory that night?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I don't deny that. I did leave my room, but not to steal. I
+left it to go to Moncrief in Dormitory X. I thought the punishment too
+severe, sir, if you'll pardon me for saying so, so I thought that I
+would keep him company. It was wrong of me, I know; but I did not give
+it much thought at the time."
+
+"And I can confirm every word that Percival has said!" exclaimed
+Stanley. "He came to me that night--to Dormitory X."
+
+"Pshaw!" cried Newall, taking up Parfitt's case. "How could he get to
+you through the locked door?"
+
+"He didn't get through the door. He came along the parapet, and got
+through the dormer window."
+
+Blank amazement fell on the group.
+
+"It's all very well to say that. Any one could say that," cried Parfitt;
+"but we want something better than that. We want proof!"
+
+"If you won't take Moncrief's word, I think I can prove it by Mr.
+Weevil," said Paul, turning to the master. "As I passed by the window of
+your room, sir, I took the liberty of peeping in. I saw you discussing
+some plans with a friend. Perhaps you can recall it, sir?"
+
+Mr. Weevil's mind had gone back to that night. He knew well enough to
+whom Paul was referring thus delicately as his friend--Zuker.
+
+"Percival is right in every particular, but"--he broke off, as though
+suddenly recalling something--"there is one thing I ought to say.
+Fancying I heard a noise in Dormitory X that night, I paid it a visit,
+but found nobody there, except Moncrief, and he seemed fast asleep."
+
+Parfitt, who had been looking glum, brightened up at this again.
+
+"Seemed, sir," repeated Stanley, with a smile; "but I was just about as
+wide awake as I am now, and Percival was--under the bed."
+
+There was a titter of laughter at this piece of information. The ghost
+of a smile played across the stern face of Mr. Weevil.
+
+"I think Percival has made it perfectly clear as to where he was that
+night. You see that he is perfectly innocent of the charge brought
+against him by Parfitt; so we are thrown back into precisely the
+position we were in before. We have still to find out who is the real
+culprit--who it was opened my desk that night. As Parfitt has failed in
+his purpose, let us put our heads together and see if we can get a
+little nearer the truth. I will try to reconstruct the case for you, as
+the French say. Who was the culprit? What was his motive? His motive was
+to get possession of certain pieces of paper in my desk which gave
+valuable information for a prize competition which was taking place
+amongst the seniors--the prize, that is to say, to be given by Admiral
+Talbot for the best essay on 'The Invasion of Great Britain.' He did not
+want the Black Book. That would give him no assistance in his essay; but
+what he wanted was to throw suspicion on a certain boy--also a
+competitor for the prize--who was absent from his dormitory that night.
+He did this by removing the leaf, amongst others, which referred to the
+boy himself and the detention of his friend in the Punishment Dormitory.
+Am I clear?"
+
+The Form were following Mr. Weevil so closely that they could only
+murmur an assent.
+
+"I have told you about the anonymous letter," continued Mr. Weevil, "and
+the conclusion I had arrived at by the help of Mr. Travers. You have
+seen that that conclusion is correct, for Parfitt has himself admitted
+it. So much is clear. Now follow me a little farther. Not long after
+receiving this anonymous letter, some of the competitors began to send
+in their essays for the Talbot prize. Among others was one from
+Parfitt."
+
+A profound silence fell on the room as the master once more pronounced
+that name. Every eye was turned to Parfitt, who was still doing his best
+to put on a bold face.
+
+"It was a remarkably clever piece of work and would assuredly have won
+the prize. It was too clever, in fact. It contained information which
+astonished me--information which could not be obtained from the school
+library. It was information, in fact, such as I myself had obtained
+after special research, and which had been embodied in the notes that
+had been stolen from my desk."
+
+"You mean to say that I am the thief--that I stole your notes!"
+blustered Parfitt.
+
+"Silence, sir!" came the stern voice of the master. "Have the courtesy
+to hear me to the end. I have but little more to add, and then I shall
+be only too pleased to hear anything you may have to say in your
+defence. The way in which the information was used was so ingenious that
+it would have been quite impossible to declare that the writer of this
+essay was the culprit. I was quite certain of it in my own mind, but it
+needed additional proof. How to get it was the next point. In
+consultation with Mr. Travers here, a speedy decision was come to. It
+was of the utmost importance that the innocent should be cleared; the
+guilty punished. A locksmith was called in on the next half-holiday.
+Parfitt's box was opened, its contents examined. At the bottom we
+discovered the missing notes. The pages from the Black Book, as being
+useless, had been destroyed. The same fate would doubtless have followed
+my notes, so soon as the result of the competition was known. I took the
+notes from the box. A facsimile was put in their place. Here are the
+originals."
+
+He held up the notes. All heads were eagerly craned forward to look at
+them.
+
+"These are the originals," repeated the master, when the sensation
+caused by their production had abated. "I doubt not the facsimiles to
+which I have referred will still be found in Parfitt's box. What I
+suggest, therefore, is that he hand over his key to Hasluck, the head of
+this Form, that the porter should then bring the box to this room, and
+that it be opened in the presence of all of you. We shall then see if
+the facsimiles are still there."
+
+Not a word fell from Parfitt's lips in answer to this appeal. At that
+moment he was passing through one of the most terrible ordeals a boy can
+pass through. The silence in the room became painful.
+
+"I hope it won't be needful to call in the locksmith again, Parfitt,"
+said the master. Then in a burst of agony came from the wretched boy's
+lips:
+
+"You needn't open the box. I--I did it."
+
+He dropped to the form, and covered his ashen face with his hands. Then
+came the master's voice again, with the solemnity of a judge pronouncing
+sentence:
+
+"I did not wish to go through this ignominy, Parfitt, before the whole
+school. That is the reason I confined the inquiry to your Form and this
+room. Everything has been done to spare your feelings, though I cannot
+help saying that you do not seem to have cared very much for the
+feelings of others. I am sorry to say that the sentence you wished
+passed on Percival must be passed on yourself. You can no longer remain
+a scholar at Garside."
+
+Parfitt knew well enough what that meant--it was a sentence of
+expulsion. He staggered to his feet, and was about to pass out without a
+word, when the voice of Paul brought him to a standstill.
+
+"I do not mind what has been said against me--indeed, I don't!"
+exclaimed Paul; "we've all made mistakes; so please don't go so far with
+Parfitt. Don't expel him. Give him another chance!"
+
+Parfitt could scarcely believe his ears. The boy whom he had sought to
+expel was taking his part--pleading that he might remain.
+
+"It is generous of you to plead for him, but after what has happened,
+how is it possible for him to remain?" said the master.
+
+Paul scarcely knew how to answer; but as he stood nonplussed a mist rose
+in the room, and as the mist cleared he saw a garden, with a
+delicate-faced boy, lying in an invalid chair, as though asleep. A
+little wren had perched itself upon his shoulder.
+
+"Let him stay for--for Hibbert's sake," came in a gulp.
+
+The master turned his head for a moment. When he once more faced the
+boys, the hard light had vanished from the blinking eyes, and a softer
+light shone there.
+
+"What has happened has not gone beyond this room. The facts, so far,
+have not been disclosed to the whole school," he said. "It may not,
+perhaps, be necessary. I will see what can be done in consultation with
+my colleagues. I trust it may be possible for us to respond to
+Percival's generous appeal. Attention! Half-turn! March!"
+
+And the boys filed slowly from the class-room.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Vacation at last!
+
+To Paul the term through which he had passed was the most memorable in
+his school life, as it was, perhaps, the most memorable in the history
+of the school. He spent a week with the good mother whom he loved, and
+who so loved him. He sat again in the old church with her, and heard
+again the vicar's fervent voice in the Litany:
+
+"From lightning and tempest; from plague, pestilence, and famine; from
+battle and murder, and from sudden death."
+
+In the days gone by he used to wonder how it was that his mother's hand
+used to tremble in his when those solemn words echoed in the church. Now
+he understood, as he knelt once more by her dear side--none better. The
+last term at Garside had taught him a lesson which would never be erased
+from his mind so long as life lasted.
+
+At the end of the week he went to Redmead, in response to the invitation
+which Mr. Walter Moncrief had sent him in that letter to Garside which
+had caused him such heart-burning. Stanley was there to meet him. The
+old friendship between them was resumed. The clouds had passed away,
+leaving them the better, the stronger--they were once more in the
+sunshine.
+
+Mr. Moncrief had learnt all that had happened at Garside. Harry
+entertained them at tea-time with his and Plunger's adventures as
+members of the Mystic Order of Beetles, and his sister nearly had a fit
+of apoplexy as he described Plunger crawling on hands and knees round
+the ring while the Mystic Brethren proceeded to initiate him as "a
+brother."
+
+Stanley was the only one who was not infected with Connie's mirth. He
+remained so serious amid the general merriment that Harry suddenly
+brought down his hand upon his shoulder and in a tragic voice declaimed
+the incantation which had made so remarkable an impression upon Plunger:
+
+    "Beetles of the Mystic Band,
+    Wind we round thee hand in hand,"
+
+and so on.
+
+"No, we're not going to send Stan to the Realms of Creepy-Crawley,"
+smiled Connie, putting her arm through her cousin's with an air of
+possession as Harry ended:
+
+"We don't mind Mr. Plunger going there. He'd be quite at home; but not
+Stan."
+
+Stanley smiled, but soon relapsed into his former gravity.
+
+"A penny for your thoughts, Stan!" said Mrs. Moncrief.
+
+"Oh, I was only thinking of one of the Beetles--Wyndham. I was wondering
+whether we should see anything of him during the vac."
+
+"Would you like to meet him?" asked Mr. Moncrief.
+
+"Very much."
+
+Paul said nothing; but he felt a keen sense of gratification at the
+words that fell from Stanley. It showed that all animosity towards
+Wyndham had completely vanished, and that he was anxious to meet him
+again, not as an enemy, but on a footing of friendship.
+
+Mr. Moncrief was absent for a good part of the next day. On the day
+following he announced that he was going to take them for a drive in the
+wagonette. They were, of course, anxious to know where.
+
+"Well, Harry has asked me once or twice whether we couldn't travel over
+some of the ground over which Paul travelled on the night when he broke
+in upon us here at the end of his last vacation. I think this is the
+most favourable opportunity we shall have to carry out his suggestion,
+if you're all agreeable."
+
+Of course they were agreeable. So, early the next morning, the wagonette
+came to the door, and the little party, in the best of spirits, started
+on the drive.
+
+No contrast could have been greater than the contrast between that
+morning of bright sunshine and the night when Paul started from Redmead
+with Mr. Moncrief. On that never-to-be-forgotten night danger seemed to
+be lurking in every hedgerow. The shadows lay thickly across their
+pathway, and the sight of home had never been so dear to Paul as when he
+at length came in sight of it that night. How different it all seemed in
+the bright sunshine!
+
+By an indirect route they came to the common over which Paul had ridden
+on Falcon. They stopped at the spot where Zuker and his confederate had
+seized Falcon's bridle. Then they turned back, and paused once more
+where the brave horse had staggered and fallen. Paul had not seen the
+place since, and as they reached it, he lived once again through the
+incidents of those few terrible moments when the life-blood of Falcon
+was slowly oozing away. He could see it lying there; he could see the
+crimson stream running from its flank, the look of pathos in its eyes as
+it turned to him.
+
+"I think we will drive on," said Mr. Moncrief gently. "We owe a good
+deal to Falcon, so I mean to have a little memorial to his memory some
+day--to the memory of a noble horse. There are some animals, it seems to
+me, who are as much entitled to it as human beings."
+
+A great surprise was in store for them when they reached the well down
+which Paul had hidden from his pursuers. Wyndham was standing there,
+just as he had stood on the night when he had covered Paul's retreat!
+
+Then it turned out that Mr. Moncrief had arranged this little surprise
+on the previous day; that he had visited Wyndham, and appointed to meet
+him at the well. To the delight of the boys, the arrangement went still
+further--Wyndham was to return with them, and spend a few days at
+Redmead.
+
+Stanley was one of the first to give him a hearty greeting.
+
+"You must be my friend as well as Paul's," he said earnestly, as he
+shook him by the hand.
+
+"There's no one, I suppose, who would like to repeat Paul's experience
+in the well?" smiled Mr. Moncrief, when the excitement of the meeting
+had cooled down.
+
+The invitation, it is unnecessary to say, was "declined with thanks."
+
+The happy party returned to Redmead. When the evening came on, the
+blinds drawn, the lamps lit, and the friends were all together, Paul
+could not help thinking there was just one thing missing to complete the
+day's experience.
+
+"When I came here that night and listened at the door, you were
+singing," he said.
+
+"Singing what?" asked Mrs. Moncrief.
+
+"'Now the day is over.'"
+
+"Happy thought! Let us have it again!" exclaimed Mr. Moncrief.
+
+Mrs. Moncrief went to the piano, and heartily they sang:
+
+    "Now the day is over,
+      Night is drawing nigh,
+    Shadows of the evening
+      Steal across the sky.
+
+    Through the long night watches,
+      May Thine angels spread
+    Their white wings above me,
+      Watching round my bed."
+
+Of a surety that fervent appeal had been answered. God had indeed
+guarded the boys through the "long night watches" at school, and through
+much trial and temptation had brought them safely together under the
+same hospitable roof.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+A SERIES OF EXCELLENT STORIES
+
+
+Full of incident and adventure, which will be read with keen interest
+and enjoyment.
+
+_Each with a distinctive Coloured Jacket, Coloured Frontispiece and
+other Illustrations. In Large Crown 8vo, cloth gilt._
+
+
+"HONOUR BRIGHT" (David Chester's Motto) _By H. ESCOTT-INMAN_
+
+THE SECOND FORM MASTER OF ST. CYRIL'S _By H. ESCOTT-INMAN_
+
+LOYAL AND TRUE _By M. B. MANWELL_
+
+THE BOYS OF MONK'S HAROLD _By J. HARWOOD PANTING_
+
+CLIVE OF CLAIR COLLEGE _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
+
+THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
+
+THE TWO RUNAWAYS _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
+
+AN UPHILL GAME _By HARRY HUNTINGDON_
+
+    PUBLISHED BY
+    FREDERICK WARNE & CO., LTD.
+    LONDON AND NEW YORK
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERO OF GARSIDE SCHOOL***
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