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Harwood Panting</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<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> </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> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </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> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<h4>LONDON<br /> +FREDERICK WARNE & 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—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,—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—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—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—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?"</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—for my sake"—placing her hand +upon his shoulder—"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—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."</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—and——"</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—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—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—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—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—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."</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—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—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—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"—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—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—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—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—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—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——"</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—as honest as the day—and detested falsehood of any +kind.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moncrief met with an accident—that's why," he answered doggedly.</p> + +<p>"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?"</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—eh?"</p> + +<p>Paul remained silent. He felt that he had said too much already.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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.</p> + +<p>With a cry of mingled rage and pain the man dropped the bridle.</p> + +<p>"Good Falcon—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—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—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.</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—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—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—"The wicked oppress me—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—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—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!"</p> + +<p>"Running away—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—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——"</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—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—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—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—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—like the eyes of a cat—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—a boy about your size—no, not +quite so tall," as the sharp eyes took note of Wyndham's height.</p> + +<p>"About my own size—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—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—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—to +the no small alarm of Wyndham—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—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—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—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—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—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.</p> + +<p>"Have you searched all your pockets?" asked Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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—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—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—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——"</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—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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; we're in the same Form."</p> + +<p>"What—at Garside School?" asked the boy eagerly.</p> + +<p>Paul nodded.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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—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—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—Paul's home—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—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—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"—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?"</p> + +<p>"Hibbert—Tim Hibbert. And—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—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—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—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—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.</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—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—a dark boy, with mischief-sparkling eyes—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.—Paul Percival. +Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>"Ra-ther. He's one of the seniors—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—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—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—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.—1 Cor. xv. 58.'"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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.</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—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"—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!"</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"—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.'"</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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.</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—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.</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—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!</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—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.</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—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—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—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—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.</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—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.</p> + +<p>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.</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"—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—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—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—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—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!</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—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—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."</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—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?"</p> + +<p>"No; nothing wrong." Then the master added with a grim smile: "I only +wanted to see if you were quite—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—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—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."</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—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.</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"—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."</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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.</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—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."</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—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—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."</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—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—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—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—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——"</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—go on."</p> + +<p>"I should go up to Newall and shake hands with him."</p> + +<p>"Would you really?" said Stanley haltingly. "I—I—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—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—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—if—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"—he broke into a mocking laugh—"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"—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."</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"—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—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."</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—"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"—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—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."</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—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—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—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—it was not being in the corridor, and Parfitt knowing +it—troubles me. But there's something else—much worse—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—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—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—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."</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—and—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—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—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?"</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—just yet."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</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—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."</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—<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—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—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?"</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—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—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—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—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—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!"</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—or tried to look +through—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——"</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—what——"</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—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—oh, my side! Don't you know that nose—that hair. I +should know 'em anywhere."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"No. I don't know 'em—not a bit. Who do you say they're meant for?" +came in jerks from Plunger.</p> + +<p>"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!"</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—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.</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—order for +the chair!"</p> + +<p>Down it came a second time.</p> + +<p>"Friends, Romans, and Countrymen——"</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—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—bumpety—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—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.</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—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—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—it—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—masters of +ceremonies—of the Form.</p> + +<p>"All here?" asked Hasluck, after bringing down his mallet on the box +before him.</p> + +<p>"All—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—interfered. I +tried to get between him and Newall to stop the quarrel. You know what +happened—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—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—phwitt! bang—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—gammon—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—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—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—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."</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—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.</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—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.</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—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."</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—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.</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—"Beetle, +otherwise cockroach—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—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—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—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—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"—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?"</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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.</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—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—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—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.</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—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—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—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.</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—"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—why doesn't Stan come?" he kept asking himself.</p> + +<p>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."</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—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—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—to see you——"</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—quite a choice collection of +names—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—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——"</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—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—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—who came off best, Hibbert?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—what have I done?" he asked himself as he rushed into +the grounds. "Fool—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—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.</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—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—why did I leave you?"</p> + +<p>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.</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—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——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; I've heard that. After—after——"</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—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."</p> + +<p>"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.</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—got you out of a tight corner in +which you might have lost your life? Are you following me?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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——"</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—the one you're to do battle with—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—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—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—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.</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—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.</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—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—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—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—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.</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—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—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—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——"</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>"——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—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."</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—really. A snub does one good on a +lazy sort of morning like this—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—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."</p> + +<p>A couple of days after the struggle at the sand-pit a number was issued +of the <i>Gargoyle Record</i>—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.—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.—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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Dropped. Somewhere near the sand-pit on Cranstead Common. Honour +of the Fifth. When last seen was covered by crawlers—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—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.</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—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—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!"</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'—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."</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—on——"</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——' 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—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—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——"</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—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?"</p> + +<p>While they were shrieking with laughter at his discomfiture Plunger +shouted above it all:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The laughter suddenly stopped.</p> + +<p>"Read—read," came in a chorus.</p> + +<p>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.'"</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—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.</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—there really isn't."</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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."</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—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—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—to all the school if need be—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—softer than that used by him to +any other boy in the school.</p> + +<p>"Out—in—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—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—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—but—I don't want any harm to happen +to—to——"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—and that so +simple—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—I—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—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—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"—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."</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—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—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—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.</p> + +<p>"Why? Do you?" Paul asked.</p> + +<p>"Y-yes," answered the boy, with hesitation. "I—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—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—I'm certain of it," +persisted the boy.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"A man of the—of the name of Zuker?" stammered Hibbert.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Tell me—do tell me—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—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—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—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—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—very +noble—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—the spy—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—thousands. He betrays a country."</p> + +<p>"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?"</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"—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?"</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—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—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—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—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—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.</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—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—on him!" was the cry.</p> + +<p>"Back—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—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—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—is it, +Bedes?"</p> + +<p>A murmur of ready assent went up at this appeal—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—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—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—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."</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—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—deeply sorry—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—hate him. So he had broken +off the friendship, and rushed into the arms of the two whom he +disliked—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—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.</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—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—that beastly +Beetle—who fought with you."</p> + +<p>"What were they doing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they were walking and talking together—very chummy. When they +left, they shook hands—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—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—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—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—catching. I'm all right now. Go on. You +were saying——"</p> + +<p>"I believe that paragraph was sent in to the editor—Dick Jessel, you +know—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—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"—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."</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—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—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—there you are. +Baldry in full plumage. It's all clear enough, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"All clear enough;—but——"</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—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?"</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—"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—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?"</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—"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—Wyndham," as he had seen him walking and +talking and shaking hands with him that afternoon.</p> + +<p>"A fine idea—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—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—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—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—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——"</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—Percival!" exclaimed Harry.</p> + +<p>"Per—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—y—yes; we—we—were speaking about you," stammered Baldry, at +length. "We—were—just wondering—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—punch me—kick me", exclaimed Harry. "Am I awake or am I +dreaming, Baldry?"</p> + +<p>"It was Percival right enough."</p> + +<p>"Then who—who's—in—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—and—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—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—animal, +vegetable, or mineral? Any more paragraphs for Jessell? We'll take them +along."</p> + +<p>"Open the door! I'll—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—I'll——"</p> + +<p>"Why—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—it looks like——"</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—not so much openly as secretly—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—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—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.</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—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—"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.</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—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——"</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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.</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—I'm all right. Is—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—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—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—yes," Hibbert feebly assented. "Wha—what's he to do?"</p> + +<p>"He's got to discover us—the twin Crusoes."</p> + +<p>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!"</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—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—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—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—Plunger, +Hibbert, and one of "the savages"—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—it's the Camel! What—what's wrong with him?" he asked, as he +stood gazing at the still form. "Is—is he dead?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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—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—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.</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—was Paul dreaming?—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—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—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—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—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—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.</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—where—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—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."</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—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——"</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—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—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—Plunger and Moncrief, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Right? Rather! Going stronger than ever, especially Plunger."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of that. And—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—Bember, Baldry, Sedgefield, Viner."</p> + +<p>"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——"</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—a beautiful, +sensitive plant."</p> + +<p>"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?"</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—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."</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—except you. Matron's really gone?"—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—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—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—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.'"</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—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."</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—Israel Zuker. What about it?"</p> + +<p>"What about it!" Hibbert made a painful effort to laugh. "Why, +Percival——"</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—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—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—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—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.</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—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!"</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—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—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.</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—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—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—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."</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—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."</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—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—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—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—glad—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—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."</p> + +<p>"Why not? He is very kind to you."</p> + +<p>"Why not—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—Israel Zuker."</p> + +<p>"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."</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—Paul—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—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—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?"</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—the man who thanked me for saving +the life of his son, was——"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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—Mr. Weevil, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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."</p> + +<p>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.</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—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?</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—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!</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—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—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—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—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—a voice +that was full of wondrous and sublime melody—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—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—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.</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—to that part of +it which was more thickly wooded—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—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—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—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—by taking the enemy +unawares—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—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.</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—"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—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—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—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—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—I really +wouldn't! Tired of life—eh? That's why you're poking your head into the +lion's den—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Wrong again—quite wrong. I've come to see one of your fellows who's +been very kind to me—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—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!"</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—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?"</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"—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."</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——"</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—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!'"</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—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."</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—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.</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—stop it, will you?" Plunger at length found breath enough to +stammer. "Oh—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—who are you? And—and—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—wretched Beetles—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—n—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—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—Frederick Pl—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—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—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—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—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—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—a tattered flag. Plunger rubbed his +eyes. Surely it was the old flag—the flag of Garside?</p> + +<p>"Why—why—that's—that's——"</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—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—I don't know any mystic circles," he stammered in despair.</p> + +<p>"On hands and knees—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—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—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—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—why didn't you +let me know?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you did know."</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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."</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——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—Beetles, I mean. Let's put the blame on the +right shoulders."</p> + +<p>"And the right shoulders are——"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</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—that——No, I can't say it—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—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"—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?"</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—"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—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"—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—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—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.</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—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—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—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."</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—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."</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——"</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—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—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—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?"</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—the Secret Service"—his voice went almost to a +whisper—"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—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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</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—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—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—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'—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—Paul +Percival—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—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!"</p> + +<p>A cry of pain came from Mr. Weevil's lips.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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.</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—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.</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—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—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.</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—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—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—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."</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—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—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—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—for my sake. That's the reason I +didn't make a fuss about it to you."</p> + +<p>"He said that—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—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—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—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?</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—"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,—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—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—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—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——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—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!"—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—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—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—we +won't mention names—happened to be captured by the enemy, and supposing +the enemy forced them into a—a——"</p> + +<p>"Secret society," put in Harry, as Plunger came to a standstill.</p> + +<p>"Yes, secret society. A kind of brotherhood—vendetta, with masks and +knives and forks—daggers, I mean—and that sort of thing——"</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—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—and—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—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—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—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—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—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—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.</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—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—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—very good news indeed. In fact, I rather fancy I know +where it is."</p> + +<p>"Where—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—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——"</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 & 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——"</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—'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—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—"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—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.</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—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—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—Henry Moncrief?"</p> + +<p>"He—he's otherwise—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—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—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.</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—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—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—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—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"—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:</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—Leveson—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?"—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—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—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—"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?—that's the puzzle. Hallo! There's your young +cousin. He ought to know something about it. Moncrief—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?"—glancing to the +turret.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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—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?"</p> + +<p>"One moment," answered Stanley, passing his hand over his forehead. "I'm +a bit dazed somehow. Let me understand. You believe that—that——"</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—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—sick of everything—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—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—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.</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—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?"</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—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."</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—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—uneasy. If no better explanation is forthcoming +than that you have given me, suspicion will grow—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—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——"</p> + +<p>"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."</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,—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—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.—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——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—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—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—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—white, yet with a burning, feverish light in the eyes—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—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—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—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—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—I can't quite see. I don't understand. Do you mean——"</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—and—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—true, a +somewhat indolent one—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—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—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 & 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—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—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.'</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—of his dream, and the awakening—the master's eyes blinked as he +had never seen them blink before.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—Paul—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——"</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——"</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—this time behind his back!</p> + +<p>"Get on—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—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—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—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."</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—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—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—"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—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—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—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—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—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—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—Newall and his jackal Parfitt."</p> + +<p>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.</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——</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—blind! Do you remember that Percival on one occasion—during +last vacation—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—you ask that?"</p> + +<p>"But after——"</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—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—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—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—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—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—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.</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—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——"</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—<i>mein</i> 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."</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—who has given information to the police, to what is +called your Secret Investigation Department—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—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 <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——"</p> + +<p>"Halt! Stop!" cried Zuker hoarsely. "You spoke of your father just +now—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—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.</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—the man through whom he lost his +life—the man——<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—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—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—always made such an awful fuss about it. That +was his way—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—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>—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—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—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.</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,—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—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—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."</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—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—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—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—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—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—of +fighting—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—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—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—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.</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—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—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—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—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?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX</h2> + +<h3>THE PETITION—WHAT BEFELL IT</h3> + + +<p>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.</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—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—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.</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—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—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—Stanley Moncrief +and Parfitt—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—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—St. Bede's—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—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—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——"</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—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—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—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—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"—he held up the anonymous +letter, with its cramped, disguised handwriting—"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—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—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—Zuker.</p> + +<p>"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."</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—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—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?"</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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 & CO., LTD.<br /> +<span class="smcap">London and New York</span></h4> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </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> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/3/9/26392">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/3/9/26392</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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