Charlton said that he had been alone, but Ralph knew better. A man had been with his chum, but who was that man? Was he the one who had broken into the school the previous night?
"My dear lad, it certainly is very strange. You seem, since your arrival in England, to be surrounded with mysteries."
Ralph was sitting alone with Mr. St. Clive; and the latter, having questioned him as to how he had got on during his first week at school, Ralph had told him of his various experiences—of his quarrel with Horace Elgert, and of the strange midnight episode which had taken place—Mr. St. Clive listening with interest, and making the remark that it was very mysterious, as the lad concluded his story.
"It is strange, sir," answered Ralph, "and at first Dr. Beverly seemed inclined to doubt my story; while Horace Elgert, instead of taking it seriously, actually said that it was not true, and that I had gone into the Fifth dormitory on purpose to play some trick with him. I think, though," he added, "that he only said that to anger me."
"It is very strange," Mr. St. Clive repeated. "And then this other boy——"
"Charlton, do you mean, sir?"
"Yes. You say that you are sure he was with some man, and that he denied it?"
"Yes, sir. I asked him if he had been with any one, and he looked quite frightened."
"That may easily be. I know something of his history, or rather, of the family's. His father was accused of some crime, and, strangely enough, Lord Elgert was the prosecutor. A cheque was forged, I believe. Mr. Charlton managed to escape, but he was never able to come back; and it was finally said that he was dead. It is quite possible that he has returned, and that he got into the school to see his son, and went into the wrong dormitory. That is possible, I say, though I do not think it likely. He would hardly run such a risk, in my opinion; and more so, as he could have gone to his wife, and then let her send for the lad."
"I did not think of it being his father," acknowledged Ralph. "I was thinking of something else."
"Yes?" inquired Mr. St. Clive.
"Cannot you guess, sir? My father is gone, and I know nothing of his fate. What if this man was the one who met him in Stow Wood. He might be able to solve the matter."
"He might," was the reply, "but it is not likely. Charlton, as I remember him, was a timid, shrinking man; that was proved by the way he took to flight. He would not be likely to do such a thing."
"But he might, sir. Some one must have done it,"persisted Ralph. "I feel as if I ought to watch Charlton, and find out who it was that he met. I could do it, too! I may not be very clever with books, but I could do that kind of thing."
"And then?" came the grave question.
And Ralph cried, almost fiercely—
"Can you ask me that, sir? If my father has come to harm, the one who harmed him must be punished."
"Even though he is your chum's father. Ralph, this is quite natural; and even beyond that, I do not say that if you could discover the man who killed your father—supposing that he is killed—he should not be given up to justice. I only say, 'pause, and be careful.' Remember the man your chum saw may be his father, and yet may be entirely innocent of the crime which you naturally desire to have punished. You, in your eagerness, may deliver an unfortunate man up to justice, and then find out that he is not the man you seek. And if I can read anything of your nature, that would be a cause of bitter regret with you for many a long day."
"It would, sir," acknowledged Ralph readily. "But unless I can find the man, how can I know the truth?"
"Well, my lad, I feel that I can only advise you to be careful; and, above all, even in this desire to have your father's assailant punished, see to it that no motive of revenge actuates you. Remember that it is written: 'Vengeance is Mine. I will repay, saiththe Lord.' Remember also that it is 'As we forgive them that trespass against us.'"
"But you would not have me let the man go free, sir?" protested Ralph. "The only thing I seem to have before me is to find out what happened to my father."
"But not of necessity to help hunt any man down. Besides, Ralph, there is another thing. You mention that you have again seen the tracks of that horse. Now, does it not strike you that, if this man is the father of your chum, and a fugitive from justice, he would be the last person in the world to be riding about in a trap? That is a very important thing to remember."
"I never thought of that," the boy acknowledged. And Mr. St. Clive nodded.
"Precisely; and yet such things, in so important a business, must be taken into consideration. Now, Ralph, my advice—my earnest advice—is that you proceed very carefully, and be quite certain that you have reason for each step before you take it. And one thing more, my dear boy. It is not well to say that even unravelling the mystery surrounding your father's disappearance is the chief object of your life. The chief object should be to become a noble, true man, alike a blessing to your fellows and an honour to God. Do you remember how it says in the Bible: 'There is a banner given to thee, that it may be displayed because of righteousness'? Now, that is a verse Ilike. God gives you His standard, and He says not only 'march under it, but bear it for Me.' Die for the colours of the King, if need be, and fight always under honour's flag. Ralph, that is my counsel, the best I can give you, as your true friend. Wait for God to bring the mystery to light. Do not let revenge be your life's object, for revenge is of the devil. Let love be your watchword, and honour your banner. Ralph, will you promise me this?"
"I will, sir," answered the boy, deeply moved. "I will try and be a good standard-bearer."
"I feel sure of it. Shake hands. I know that I shall have cause to be proud of your friendship. Now, I must not take up all your time. I know that Irene is waiting patiently for you, so run and join her, and make the most of your brief holiday."
And what a delightful holiday it was, in spite of the trouble over him! It was a splendid thought to think of himself as being a standard-bearer. And he told Irene all about it; and she, in return, told him of the young hero who, being wounded, and fearing that the colours he bore would be taken from him, placed them beneath him, and lay in silent suffering until the enemy found him and, in pity, sought to help him. And then she told how he begged so hard that he might not be moved that they wondered; and when, even against his wish, they raised his dying form, there they found the colours which he loved, and which he had guarded so well; and they wrapped them round him and borehim away. And when he died they buried him with the flag which he had carried, and gave him all honour for being true man and hero.
It was a fine story, and set Ralph's heart beating more quickly. And then Irene said that he must be as true, and be her champion, and win in the battle of right against wrong. And Ralph—well, I do not mind owning that he kissed her; and seeing that he had been brought up all his life on the plains, and had never been used to girls' society, that really was a daring thing to do.
So the holiday was spent, and Sunday passed in quiet and worship. And then on Monday morning back he went to Marlthorpe College, and the fight of another week.
And the battle began almost at once, for very soon after his arrival he was called into the doctor's study, where he found two stern-faced men, whom he was told were detectives; and they questioned him closely as to the events of that night when he had seen the man, and even went so far as to hint that he must have been dreaming and walking in his sleep, and that made Ralph feel very like losing his temper. Dreaming! As if he did not know that he had been very wide awake indeed!
And they called Horace Elgert in also, and questioned him as to whether he had seen anything, or whether he could think of any one likely to harm him. And Elgert laughed in the most insulting manner.
"I don't believe a word of it!" he said, with seeming frankness. "It is a silly business, and it had best be forgotten. There is a great deal too much being made out of it. I suppose that Rexworth wants to pose as a hero. I told my father of it, and he laughed about it; but he said that he would ride over this morning and question Rexworth himself."
"I do not want him to question me!" cried Ralph, flushing angrily. And Elgert laughed again.
"Very likely not; but he will do it, all the same," he replied. And then Dr. Beverly interrupted them sternly.
"Silence, both of you! I did not tell you to come here to have this nonsense, but to answer any questions which these gentlemen might wish to ask you. Back to your classes, both of you, and mind that I have no trouble with either of you! If you cannot be friendly, keep apart!"
"I am sure that I want to," muttered Elgert, as he went; but he only spoke loud enough for the words to reach Ralph's ears.
It was very hard to keep cool and pay attention to his work; but Ralph remembered his promise to his good friends, and he set sternly to the tasks before him, only to be interrupted an hour afterwards by the doctor sending for him again; and this time—how hot and angry he came all in a moment!—it was to be questioned by Lord Elgert, who sat there as cold, as haughty, and overbearing as ever.
"Now, young man," he said, when Ralph entered, "I want to hear, for myself, this remarkable story."
Ralph paused a moment. With a strong effort he mastered himself. If he was a standard-bearer, he must remember to give soft and polite answers, so he said politely—
"I am afraid that I have little to tell, sir, that I have not told already; and, unfortunately, it does not seem to be believed."
"Never mind that. Begin at the beginning, and tell me all that occurred."
So Ralph complied, and Lord Elgert sat listening with frowning face and watchful eyes; and Ralph could see that he, like his son, really did believe the story, even though he pretended not to.
"Well, well, doctor," said his lordship, when the tale was told, "I am inclined to think that it is a case of sleepwalking——"
"But did I put the ladder against the window in my sleep, sir?" asked Ralph. "The detectives did not think that, nor do you. I have no interest in inventing such a story; and I have no wish to do anything to annoy your son, so long as he leaves me alone——"
"I do not think that the boy dreamed it," said the doctor. And Lord Elgert frowned.
"Hum! Hark, boy! I suppose that it was not your own father, come to see you, eh?"
Then up started Ralph indignantly, and cried—
"You have no right to insult me like that! Why should you? I know nothing of you, and yet, upon the only two occasions when we have met, you have spoken in that way. My father! Why should he come like a thief at night? He has never done anything to be ashamed of. Never, I say, in spite of the tale you told. That tale is not true!"
"Each to his own opinion, young man," retorted Lord Elgert drily. "You take my advice. Attend to your studies, learn all you can, and then go back to the land you came from; for you will get on best there!"
"Lord Elgert," answered Ralph fearlessly, "you may mean that kindly or you may not. I neither know nor care. It is your advice, but it is advice which I shall not take. I have something to do here. I have to find out what has become of my father, and I have to prove that your accusation that he is a thief is not true. I am only a boy, Lord Elgert, and you may laugh at me, but I know that I shall succeed presently, and when I do perhaps I may also learn the reason for your disliking me so much."
"What do you mean by that?" shouted Lord Elgert angrily. And Ralph replied—
"Just what I say!"
Then he turned and asked the doctor if he wanted him any more. And receiving permission to go, he went back to his class; while Lord Elgert rode homewards, with black looks and frowning brow.
"Boys, I have an announcement to make."
The whole school were gathered for the usual morning prayers, the masters each at the head of his class; and when the reading was over, the doctor, instead of dismissing them to their classes as usual, still stood at his desk, and the boys looked up eagerly. Was it a holiday, or a challenge from some neighbouring school to a football match?
Alas, for such hopes! It was neither the one nor the other. It was something which only interested a very few of the most industrious there.
"The Newlet gold medal examination for mathematics will be held in a month's time from now; and it will be needful for intending competitors to hand in their names to their masters at once. I trust that the school will be well represented at the examination. We lost the medal last year, though we had a very good average; but the year before that, Kesterway, who was then only in the Fourth, gained it. That debars him from again trying for it; but I hope that others will enter the field, and do aswell as he did. The second and third boys gain silver medals. That is all. Dismiss to your classes."
"I say, Dobby, there is a chance for you to distinguish yourself," whispered one boy in the lazy one's ear, as the Fourth trooped away. And Dobson glared, for of all things, mathematics was his weak point.
"Dobson cannot do it," laughed Warren, overhearing the words. "His system of mathematics is erratic. When it comes to eating tarts at some one else's expense, it is wonderful how many he can take without counting them up; but if he has to treat—well, one multiplies itself into twenty."
"You shut up," growled Dobson. "I never had tarts at your expense."
"No, my son, and you never will," laughed Warren. "Hurry up and take your place. You know where it is—top wrong end."
Mr. Delermain entered, and the class settled down to work; but Ralph found himself pondering over that prize which was offered. True, figures were not his strongest point; but then he had a great belief that any one who sets his mind to a thing can manage to do it in time, and, somehow, he felt that it would be very nice to take that medal home and show it to Irene.
So when recess was called, he managed to get hold of Warren and question him about it.
"The Newlet," explained the monitor. "Well, itcertainly is rather stiff. I suppose that I must go in for it, though I don't think I shall stand much chance. There will be Philmore and Standish of the Fifth; I don't know if Elgert will try for it. He thinks no end of his mathematics, but if you ask me, I think that a crib has a good deal to do with it."
"A crib?"
"Yes. You know. Don't know what a crib is!" as Ralph shook his head. "Oh, you sweet innocent, I thought I explained that to you before! It is a book with all the answers in it——"
"That is cheating," said Ralph. And Warren nodded.
"Of course it is; but it is frequently done, not only for exams, but for class work. Suppose a fellow is late in—been at cricket or anything—and he hasn't got time for prep., and don't want to lose his place, a crib comes in very handy; only some fellows always use 'em, because they are so lazy——"
"Dobson, for instance," suggested Ralph. But Warren laughed, and shook his head.
"Bless you, no. He is too lazy even to use a crib. He does not even pretend to do his lessons; and he is in pretty little danger of losing his place, seeing that it is always at the bottom of the class."
"Well, I think it mean and dishonourable to use cribs," Ralph declared. "If I could not manage without that I would not manage at all."
"It is pretty often done," Warren replied. He wasnot quite guiltless himself; and he felt a trifle ashamed of Ralph's honest wrath. "I suppose it is wrong; only a fellow does not think so at the time. But you were asking about the Newlet. It is stiff, but it is worth winning——"
"I should like to try for it," murmured Ralph. And the monitor stared.
"You! Well, there is nothing to prevent you from doing so; only you will have to grind awfully, if you don't crib——"
"I shall not do that," interrupted Ralph firmly. "Once for all, let that be understood. If I cannot stand a chance without cheating, I will not go in for it."
"Well, then, it is just grinding, that is all."
"Grinding," repeated Ralph, raising his brows. And Warren laughed again.
"Bless your heart! It is refreshing to find any one as innocent as you are. Grinding, my dear fellow, is working, swatting, putting in full time, giving up games and larks and story books, and working on every moment you have got to spare. It is living on mathematics all the time."
"In plain words, it is working hard," laughed Ralph. "And if a thing is worth doing, it is worth working well for——"
"Right you are. Go ahead, and good luck. You are letting yourself in for a nice thing, though; but, I suppose, that if you enter you will stick it out. Best tell Mr. Delermain; it will please him to haveyou enter. He likes his Form well represented, even though we cannot all win."
Warren was right in that; the master was very pleased when Ralph spoke to him about it.
"I should like to go in for it, sir," the boy said. "I suppose it seems rather absurd; but I could try at least, and the study will not do me any harm."
"Not if it is honest study, Rexworth," replied Mr. Delermain. And those truthful eyes were raised steadily to his own.
"It will not be anything else, sir," Ralph said. "If I cannot do it honestly, I shall not do it at all."
"That is the way, Rexworth." Mr. Delermain laid one hand on the boy's shoulder as he spoke. "And even if you do not win, the work itself is sure to prove of great use to you later on. By all means enter; and if you want any assistance or advice, do not hesitate to come to me. I shall always be very glad to do anything in my power to assist you."
So Ralph put his name down, and some of the boys stared when they heard it. A new boy, only a week there, putting his name down for the Newlet!
"Cheek!" said Elgert.
"Rubbish!" said Dobson.
"No use!" said a good many; but Ralph paid no heed to it all. One thing nerved him. Elgert was going in for it; and he felt that if he could not beat him, it would be strange.
"You will have to work very hard, Ralph," was theverdict of Mr. St. Clive, when he heard of it. "It is an honour to gain the medal, but it is an honour that has to be earned by hard work."
"You will try your very best, won't you, Ralph?" pleaded Irene. "I should just love you to win it, the same as if you were my very own brother."
Brother! Well, well; Irene and Ralph were but young; perhaps, later on, it would not be brother, perhaps—who can say?
So Ralph began to undergo that process which Warren called swatting, or grinding, and it was not all easy. When the day's work was over, and the boys ran off to their games, or settled down to their story books—and Ralph loved story books—it was not easy to get out the dry figures and bend over them, studying tricky sums, or working out obscure equations; it was not easy, but it had to be done. Ralph was beginning to understand what work meant.
And Charlton proved himself a good chum in the hour of need, for he was farther on than Ralph, and could help him in many points. Indeed, Ralph wondered why he had not entered himself; but Charlton sighed and shook his head.
"He did not want the worry of it," he said.
Ralph had said nothing more to him concerning his suspicions, but they were frequently in his mind. He never lost sight of his father's disappearance. He was for ever keeping his eyes open for anythingthat might put him on the right track. But Mr. St. Clive's remark that he might perhaps be the means of harming a man who had never harmed him or his, made him very careful about saying or doing anything. Something was worrying Charlton, that he could plainly see; but since the boy did not say anything to him, he hesitated to try and force his confidence in any way.
So he worked with Charlton; and sometimes Warren would pop in and ask him how he got on, or compare notes with him. And Warren confessed that he had been influenced by Ralph's words, and that he was working on what he called "the square," which meant that he was doing without cribs and keys.
And when particularly knotty points occurred, Ralph would carry his books away and consult Mr. Delermain; and the master helped, and advised, and praised him, and spoke very encouragingly of his progress and his chances.
"There is nothing to beat honest, hard work, Rexworth," he said one evening, as the lad sat in his room. "What you gain unfairly, you soon lose; but what you learn honestly, that you hold, and it serves as a foundation to build other knowledge upon."
"I do not know how to thank you enough, sir," the lad answered, and Mr. Delermain smiled.
"The fact that I see you working honestly, ismore than reward for me, Rexworth. Now if there is nothing more, run away, for I have some letters to write."
Ralph rose, and as he did so, in gathering up his books he knocked a piece of thin paper on to the ground from off the table. He stooped with an apology and picked it up. He could not help seeing what it was—a five-pound note—and he handed it to his master, who took it and placed it on his desk.
"Thank you, Rexworth. Do not forget to come to me at once, if you want any more help."
Charlton awaited him in their study, and the lad seemed but ill at ease. He looked at Ralph doubtfully for a while; and, at last, said timidly—
"Rexworth, I hope that you won't be angry, but could you—that is, I mean, will you——"
"Out with it, old fellow," laughed Ralph. "Will I what?"
"Lend me some money. I am without any, and I want some——"
"I can lend you ten shillings, if that is any good," answered Ralph readily. And Charlton beamed.
"Will you? Oh, I am obliged! I will pay you back soon. I shall have a little money in a few weeks."
"That is all right. Here you are," and Ralph handed him the money, and turned back to his task again.
That is all right. Here you are
"'That is all right. Here you are,' and Ralph handed himthe money." p. 110.
But now he could not work. He wondered whatCharlton wanted the money for, and where he was going to get any more to pay him again. Somehow the sums seemed to get muddled; and he jumped up at last, with an exclamation of annoyance—
"Bother it! It won't come right! I quite forget how Mr. Delermain said I was to do it. I will run and ask him again; he won't mind my bothering him."
He took his book and went out. The corridor leading to the masters' rooms was rather dark, for the gas had either not been lit, or had been turned out by some one. Just before the room was reached the corridor turned sharply to the right, and here it was quite dark. And, as Ralph turned this corner, he encountered some one, who ran against him with such force that he almost fell down; and before he could recover from his surprise, that unseen boy had disappeared round the corner, running swiftly and silently, as if anxious to escape notice.
Ralph muttered something about clumsy fellows, and picked up his papers, which had been scattered in all directions. Then he went on to Mr. Delermain's room, and saw that the door was open, but the room in darkness. His master had evidently finished his letters and gone.
"I shall have to let it wait until to-morrow," he said. "It's jolly vexing, just as I was getting on so nicely."
He turned from the door, when a step soundedin the corridor, and a light glimmered round the corner. Some one was coming. And then a voice said—
"Why, Rexworth, what are you doing here? You have no business in this corridor." And Ralph found himself face to face with Dr. Beverly.
Now, why Ralph should have felt in the slightest degree confused by the sudden appearance of Dr. Beverly, he could not have said; and yet he was conscious that he exhibited something of hesitation in his manner. It was perhaps due to the doctor finding him there in the dark, and looking rather suspicious and stern.
The fact was that the doctor was so used to his pupils playing tricks and getting into scrapes, that it was but natural that he should scan the boy's face closely, and he noted that Ralph looked confused.
He repeated his question sharply, and then the boy recovered himself and described how he had come to ask Mr. Delermain to again explain the point which had escaped his memory.
"Mr. Delermain has gone out, I believe," Dr. Beverly said, when Ralph concluded. "But perhaps I may be able to make the point clear. Come to my study and let me see what you are doing."
Ralph followed the doctor, not without some little nervousness; for, like all the boys, he stood somewhat in awe of the head master; but the doctorsmiled, and was so kind that he soon put the boy at ease; and, after scanning the neat rows of figures in the exercise-book, he nodded approval.
"I am glad to see that you work so neatly, Rexworth," the Head said. "Now, this point. Here is your error—it is very simple, though easily made."
And taking a pencil, he worked out the sum himself, making Ralph go over it with him, and explaining each detail as it was done, so that Ralph was able to understand it quite easily; and, with words of thanks, took his books and went off, the doctor saying, as he departed—
"But let me give you one word of advice, Rexworth. It is all very well to be industrious; but remember, the brain wants rest, and you cannot learn properly when you are jaded. Put the books away, and do something else until bedtime—draw, read, or whatever you like. It pays to have a little relaxation when one is working hard."
Now Ralph valued the master's experience too much to neglect that advice; and, though he had intended to work for another hour, he put his books away when he reached his little study, and, picking up his long-neglected story, he settled down with a sigh of relief for a quiet read.
But he could not read. He wondered who it was that had run up against him, and what he was doing in the master's quarters. He felt uneasy, he could not say why. Then he had behaved so foolishlywhen the doctor first met him! As if any one had any need to be afraid of such a kind man as Dr. Beverly!
Then he fell to thinking of Lord Elgert; and he wondered why he should seem to be so bitter against him, and why he seemed to take a delight in saying that his father was a thief. Ralph could not understand Lord Elgert; he was as much a mystery as was his father's disappearance.
Then, from thinking of the father, his thoughts went to the son; and he wondered whether Horace Elgert would stand any chance of winning the gold medal, and whether he was working with one of those cribs; and he caught himself thinking how nice it would be to defeat his rival and carry off the prize.
But then he checked himself. He wanted to win, but that ought not to be the real motive for it. After all, to want to win only to make Elgert vexed, was a very poor sort of thing.
"I seem to be for ever catching myself up," he reflected. "It is harder work being a standard-bearer than I supposed at first."
The bell rang for supper, and there was no more time to think then. Boys were laughing, shouting, enjoying the freedom which was allowed at this last meal of the day; and after that was over, the classes went off to their dormitories, and silence soon reigned in the school. And Ralph slept calm and peaceful, little dreaming what trouble was coming for him in the morning.
But that trouble came, sharp and swift, before the classes assembled for morning school—the heaviest trouble that Ralph had been ever called to face, with the exception of that all-supreme one—the loss of his dear father.
Breakfast was over, and the boys crowding from the dining-hall to snatch a few minutes' play prior to entering classes, when Ralph felt a hand laid on his shoulder and, turning, saw Kesterway by his side.
"Rexworth, the Head wants you in his study at once!" the monitor said; and Ralph, wondering what could be the matter, turned and went to the doctor's room forthwith.
And when he entered, he found both Dr. Beverly and Mr. Delermain there; and both looked very grave he thought.
"You sent for me, sir?" he asked, looking towards the doctor, and the master nodded.
"I did, Rexworth. Come in and shut the door. Now sit down and listen to me. You know that neither I nor Mr. Delermain would willingly say anything to hurt your feelings—I am sure that you realize that?"
"Of course I do, sir," replied Ralph, wondering greatly. "You have both always been kind to me."
"Well, now, I am going to say something that may seem hurtful," the master went on. But then he stopped as he encountered those calm, brave eyes, and he motioned to Mr. Delermain. "Suppose youspeak?" he said, and Ralph's own master complied.
"Rexworth," he said quietly, "it is not pleasant to say anything that could be interpreted into the faintest suspicion of doubting your honesty——"
"I hope that you do not doubt it, sir," replied Ralph quickly. "It would be a very great trouble to me if you did! But I see that something is wrong; and if that is so, it is best to know it at once in plain language. If you have to say anything to hurt me, it must be something grave indeed!" he added.
"It is grave," acknowledged the master. "You remember, last evening, knocking a banknote from my desk, and picking it up for me?"
"Perfectly well, sir."
"I replaced that note on my desk, and, having some letters to write, I forgot to take it up again; and when I went to post my correspondence, I left it there on the desk. When I returned, the note was gone, and the only person who was near my room, so far as we know, was yourself. Dr. Beverly saw you there."
"And you think that I have stolen your banknote, sir?" cried Ralph, regretfully. But Mr. Delermain shook his head.
"No, no, Ralph! You must not go so far as that. I only tell you the facts, as far as we know them. The note was there, the note has gone, you are the only one who was seen near the spot!"
"There was some one else, sir!" cried Ralph; andhe narrated how some one had pushed against him and run down the dark corridor. Both masters listened gravely as he did so.
"And you have no idea who this was? Did not recognize either voice or figure?"
"No, sir. He did not speak, and it was so dark, and the thing so sudden, that I was taken quite by surprise!"
"You can think of no one? Know of no lad you saw in that part of the house?"
"No, sir," answered Ralph; but even as he spoke one thought flashed into his mind. "Charlton, his chum! Charlton was in need of money! Could it have been Charlton?"
"I can think of no one, sir," he replied. "I can quite see how it looks against me; but Mr. Delermain has proved so good a friend to me, that it seems hard that I should be thought capable of robbing him."
"Let me impress upon you, Rexworth," said the doctor, "that we do not look at the matter in that light. We sent for you because we knew that you were near the place—in the room, indeed. The matter must be made public, and questions must be asked; and it is natural that, since you are the only one who was near the place——"
"I was not the only one, sir," he answered quietly.
"No, there is that other boy whom you say ran past you in the dark; but, my lad, unless something can be found out concerning that boy, we have onlyyour bare word; and suspicion is bound to fall mostly upon yourself. That is why we both felt that you should be seen privately, before the circumstance was made known to the whole school. That is all. You can go!"
"It is impossible that such a boy can be a thief, sir!" cried Mr. Delermain to the Head, when Ralph had gone. "I would stake my life upon his honesty!"
"I feel somewhat the same, Delermain," answered the Head. "But the note is gone, and he is the only one known to have been near. The school will not view the thing in that light."
"I should rather that the school did not know, sir," suggested the master; but at this Dr. Beverly shook his head.
"No, no, Delermain, I will not have that. We will have no favouritism—no keeping things back. If it was my own son who was implicated, the thing should be gone on with. For the sake of every one concerned, it must be gone on with."
But what a sensation it caused when the doctor made the announcement to the school! He had classes stopped, and all the school assembled in the hall; and there, standing at his great desk, he spoke to the lads, telling them that the banknote was lost.
"It can hardly have been mislaid," he said, "for Mr. Delermain put it beneath a heavy paper-weight; and upon his return he found that weight had been moved. Now, there are two things I want toimpress upon you all, very solemnly. Some one must have done this—some one acting, perhaps, under a sudden temptation; some one, perhaps, who did not understand the full gravity and magnitude of his offence. Let that some one come and own his fault to me, like a man and a Christian should do. Remember, also, that the number of that note is known. It cannot be parted with, or converted into money, without eventually being traced, even through successive stages, back to the one who originally parted with it.
"Then, remember also, that there is one of your number who is particularly affected by this loss; there is one boy who knew this note was there, and who is known to have been near the study during Mr. Delermain's absence. A boy who frankly explains what took him there, and who declares that some one passed him hurriedly in the darkness of the corridor. That boy is Ralph Rexworth, and the boy who passed by him must undoubtedly be the thief!"
It was kindly put by the Head, for it seemed as if it exonerated Ralph from all suspicion; but there were those in the classes who, as the Head had foreseen, did not look at it from that standpoint; and Dobson muttered to his nearest neighbour—
"That is all very well, but why may not Rexworth have taken it himself? He is the only one who knew that it was there."
And the boy to whom this was addressed nodded.
"I again earnestly entreat the boy who has done this thing to confess his fault!" the Head went on. "Do not let us have the taint of a thief amongst us! Let the culprit act the better part, and remove the disgrace from the school! Now go to your classes, and think over what I have said, and I trust ere the morning has passed, the boy who is guilty will have taken the better course and have come to own his fault to me!"
Away to their rooms they went; and now tongues were loosened, and comments made; and oh, how hard it was for Ralph to keep his temper! for Elgert was not slow to take all the advantages which the circumstance offered to him.
"It is all right to talk about shame being on the school!" he said to his companions. "What else can you expect? There is Charlton—look at him! 'Like father, like son,' you know. Then there is his chum, Rexworth. 'Birds of a feather flock together.' It does not take very much to see who the thief is, Rexworth was caught almost in the act, by the Head himself; and it is very easy to make up a tale of some one running by him in the dark."
"Of course," was the answer; and Ralph heard it all so plainly, as Elgert had intended that he should do. Poor Ralph, it was a hard task for him to keep his temper—to remember his promise, and act the standard-bearer's part!
There was but one serious theme of conversation at Marlthorpe College during the remainder of that day, and it is not difficult to guess that the theft of the banknote formed its subject. From the highest class to the lowest—from the First Form youngsters right up to the Upper Fifth—the boys discussed the business eagerly, and, it must be owned, with divided opinions.
For there were some there who, being quick to perceive true nobility of character, felt that it was impossible for such a boy as Ralph Rexworth to be a thief. They were like Dr. Beverly and Mr. Delermain, and felt that, dark as the circumstances made it appear for Ralph, he could not be guilty of such a mean action. And there were others who, with all the thoughtlessness of youth, and influenced, perhaps, by the words of Elgert and Dobson, were quite ready to declare Ralph guilty off-hand, without the slightest hesitation.
And it was bitter for Ralph—far more bitter than any there could understand. He felt that they all looked with suspicion upon him. And he even did hisbest friends some injustice, yet they, right down to their hearts, believed him to be guilty.
He wanted at first to throw aside his books and go back to Mr. St. Clive and to Irene, but he pulled himself up sternly. He would not run away like a coward. It would appear as if he were really guilty. He would stay and fight it out and prove his innocence. He felt sure that it would aid him in getting at the truth concerning his father, and so he settled sternly down to his work, and even, in his battle, seemed a little cold and standoffish to his best friends.
And Charlton—ah, Ralph could not help thinking that Charlton knew something about this. He seemed so strange, so different and hesitating. He felt like challenging him to tell the truth, but something, he was not quite clear what, made him hesitate. It was bad enough to be suspected himself, and he was a fairly strong boy, able to take his own part, but what would timid, weakly Charlton feel if the suspicion were thrown upon him?
"I won't do anything to let him think that I suspect him, until I can be sure that I have good grounds for suspicion," Ralph reflected.
And then he paused. And if he had those good grounds, what then? Suppose that he could even be certain that Charlton was the culprit, what then? The boy would have taken the money for his mother in all likelihood, and——
Ralph shrugged his shoulders and turned resolutelyto his work, and, though plenty there believed that he was guilty, there was such a look upon that strong young face that they forbore to speak their opinions directly to him, but only revealed them by cutting him contemptuously whenever he chanced to be in their company.
But he was not left without comforters. Mr. Delermain took the opportunity to speak with him quietly, and as he placed one hand gently upon the strong young shoulder, and looked gravely into the face, now somewhat clouded with its sorrow, the kindly master said—
"Rexworth, my dear boy, I could find it in my heart to wish that I had never mentioned this loss."
"I do not, sir," answered Ralph quickly. "If the thing has been done it ought to be mentioned, no matter upon whom the blame may fall. It is rather hard to feel that so many of the boys believe that I have done it, but then, you see, I was in your room, and things look black, and I have no means of proving that my story of some one having passed me is really true."
"I would that we had any clue to that," observed the master. "If we could only find out who that was! You have no suspicion, Ralph?"
And he glanced into the boy's eyes.
"No sir." Then Ralph hesitated. That was not quite true. He had a suspicion. "I would rather not talk of it, sir," he answered, after a pause. "Perhaps it is not quite right to say that I have no suspicion,but it is only a suspicion, and I have no right to talk about it, seeing that I have no solid grounds to go upon. I am accused solely upon suspicion, and I know how hard it is."
"I applaud your sentiment," said Mr. Delermain. "Well, my dear lad, let me impress upon you that I do not believe you to be a thief. Let me give you my sympathy, and let me encourage you to bear this trial—I fully understand how hard it must be for one of your nature—bravely; and let me assure you that I shall look forward with just as much pleasure as formerly to your visits in the evening. Do not let this interfere with your studies for the Newlet medal, and rest sure that I should not again invite Ralph Rexworth into my study if I suspected him of being a thief."
"The boy has some sort of suspicion," reflected the master, after Ralph had gone. "He suspects some one. Now whom can that be? Is he shielding that boy Charlton? He is a weakly dispositioned lad—one likely to fall into temptation, and to yield to it too. I must watch him quietly. Charlton is the most likely boy to have done this. He is poor too. Perhaps he took it to help his mother. Poor lad! if that is the case, I would be the last one to bring him to punishment." He paused and shook his head. "I ought to take a lesson from Rexworth," he went on, with a smile. "He will not speak upon mere suspicion, and here I am weaving a theory without the slightest ground for so doing, and actually arriving at the conclusion that acertain boy is guilty, when I have not the least right to even connect him with the theft."
Mr. Delermain went back to his duties, but still that thought was in his head—was it possible that Charlton had taken that five-pound note, and that Ralph Rexworth knew it, and was silent only for the sake of his chum? Ralph felt quite cheered by his master's words. He did not dream that Mr. Delermain thought anything about Charlton being the thief, and he soon found another comforter in the person of good-hearted Tom Warren; for the monitor came up to him with outstretched hand, crying heartily—
"Look here, Rexworth, you are asking for a fight with me, that's what!"
"Eh?" said Ralph, staring. "I don't understand."
"Well then, why are you cutting me like this? Oh, think I don't notice it? You are sitting moping, just like an old magpie that is moulting. Look here, don't be so jolly silly as to worry about what these kites say or do. It's only Elgert and his gang, and Dobby and Co. They are always glad to be able to chuck stones at another fellow's glasshouse; but they will get their own windows smashed in time. Now, don't hide your head as though you had done something to be ashamed about. Come into the playground with me."
"The other fellows don't want me, and I don't want to go where I am not wanted."
"Rubbish! Downright silly rubbish!" retortedWarren. "I want you! I want you to show me how to throw one of those ropes like you do. I cannot manage it. I was trying the other day, and I caught Bert Standish an awful smack in the eye, and jolly nearly knocked it out for him; and if you had seen him scudding after me, one hand on his injured optic and the other shaking in very wrath! I didn't stop to argue until I got safe inside my study and had the bolt drawn; and then he stood outside kicking the panel, and calling me a chump, and a kite, and a cuckoo, and all manner of pretty and polite names, and inviting me to come out and let him wipe up the floor with me. I spoke soft words, and tried to pour oil on troubled waters, only the troubled waters were not taking any, and would not be assuaged until Kesterway came along and said that he would report him for damaging the paint if he didn't stop it. I have kept out of Bert's way since then, and he has got a lovely bruise under his eye. Come on, Ralph, and show me how you do it without knocking any one's head off."
So Ralph suffered himself to be taken into the playground, and though some looked at him suspiciously and edged away from him, others of Warren's disposition resolved that, at any rate, they would wait for proof before condemning him, gathered round Ralph, and made him feel that they were his friends.
So opinions were divided, and Marlthorpe College split into two parties, one for, and one against Ralph—one with Tom Warren at its head, and the other withHorace Elgert, the Honourable Horace Elgert, the nobleman's son!
And Elgert was not quite satisfied, for he saw that Ralph was not sent to Coventry, as he had intended that he should be. He saw that some of the boys recognized that he was not the sort of lad to be a thief, and he determined that, if it could be done, their opinions should be changed.
"If I can only prove that he did it," he mused, "I may be able to manage that, if I have any luck."
So the days of the week slipped away, once more bringing the Saturday holiday near, and it had been one of the hardest weeks that Ralph Rexworth had ever known—a week that had called for all his strength of will and purpose to enable him to face and overcome its difficulties and temptations.
It was Friday afternoon, and Ralph was in his study putting his books straight prior to leaving—he was always neat in his habits—when Charlton came in, hesitating, troubled-looking, as ever.
"Glad the week is over, Ralph?" he asked, after he had stood in silence for a little while watching his chum.
And Ralph nodded.
"Yes. It has been a little hard. I shall be glad to have a rest from it," he answered.
"They are wicked to try and make out that you took that note. They ought to know that you did not. I know you did not."
"Do you? How?" was the quiet answer to this indignant outburst.
And Charlton seemed confused.
"Why, because—don't you see—because—you could not do it, of course."
"Thanks!" said Ralph. "It is nice to hear you say that."
But, alas! he wondered whether Charlton had any better grounds for his belief.
And then the boy went on, taking ten shillings from his pocket.
"Here are the ten shillings which I owe you. I am much obliged."
Ralph looked hard at him, and made no attempt to pick up the money.
"Charlton," he said quietly, "I thought you said that you would not be able to repay me for some time."
And Charlton looked more confused than ever.
"I know, but I—I can pay you now."
"How did you get the money?" asked Ralph.
And his chum grew more nervous.
"I had it given—I mean that I—— Why do you ask that?"
"I will tell you, Charlton," answered Ralph gravely. "I don't mean to tell any one else, though. You had no money at the beginning of this week, and now you can pay me ten shillings. Where did you get the money from? Did you take that five-pound note?"
For a moment the lad stood silently staring at Ralph. Then his pale face went crimson, and he burst out indignantly—
"What do you mean? Do you think that I stole it? Do you mean that I am a thief? You can't mean that, Rexworth! Did you ever catch me telling a lie?"
"Yes," said Ralph quietly. "I did once."
"When?" demanded Charlton.
And Ralph answered—
"Last week in the woods, when you said that you were alone. I know that there was a man with you."
"That is a lie!" answered Charlton wildly. "There was no one. You have no right to say there was any one with me." He seemed quite beside himself with terror. "I know what it is, Ralph Rexworth! You have taken that note after all, and now you are trying to put the blame upon me. We are not chums any longer. I hate you!"
And with that Charlton rushed off, choking with anger and bitter grief, and Ralph stood there looking after him, more in regret than in anger.
"Poor chap!" he muttered. "I ought not to have spoken like that. It only shows how easy it is to make a slip, if you are not for ever watching. Perhaps I am wronging him, after all."
He paused. His eyes fell upon the money which Charlton had placed upon the table. If he was wronging him, then where had Charlton managed to get that money from?
"I wish that I had not spoken like that to him."
So Ralph Rexworth mused as he left the study and went along the corridor—anger at the violent outburst and the accusation which Charlton had hurled at him, he felt none.
A muffled sound broke upon his ears—the sound of some one sobbing violently, and he stopped, peering along the corridor until he made out the form of his former chum. Charlton had flung himself down full length, and was crying as if his heart would break.
It was more than Ralph could stand—he went up to him and laid a hand upon the prostrate boy's shoulder.
"Charlton," he said kindly, "don't cry. I am awfully sorry that I have offended you, and that we have quarrelled. I did not mean to do it. Won't you get up and shake hands with me?"
"No!" came the broken answer. "Go away, I don't want you! You were the only chum that I had, and now you say that I am a thief! I never said a word against you. I told Dobson that he was telling lies when he said that you had stolen the note, and hebeat me. I did not mind that, because I was trying to stick up for you; and now you say I stole it!"
"Come, shake hands," pleaded Ralph, feeling somehow that he was on the wrong track. "I am sorry."
"You ought to have known how it feels to be called a thief," the other lad continued. "You are not my chum—I don't care about you being strong and me being weak—I don't want to be your chum. I know that my father was called a thief, but it was not true—he never did anything wrong—and I know that people sneer at me. But I am not a thief—I never stole anything, and you, seeing what Elgert has said about your father, and that you have been accused, might have been a little more kind to me."
"Well, I have said that I am sorry. Won't you shake hands?" said Ralph again. "And I had a note from Mr. St. Clive, and he told me to ask you and Warren to come over to-morrow. Won't you come?"
"No," answered Charlton. "You don't want boys there who have convict fathers, and who you believe to be thieves. You go away, Ralph Rexworth. We shall never be friends any more until you have been proved wrong. When I can prove to you that I had no hand in taking that note, then we will be chums again.
"And," he added, sitting up, "it is a wicked, wicked lie to say that I was with any man in those woods. It is not true, and you are making it up. There—go away, and make what chums you like. I suppose that wemust still share the same study! I won't worry you with my presence very much, I can promise you; but I won't make friends, and I won't forgive you, and I won't take back one word of what I have said that I believe about you—not even if you beat me—and you are strong enough to do that, I know."
"I am sorry. I don't want to beat you, Charlton," responded Ralph, "and I am very grieved that we are not to be chums. Perhaps after Sunday you will think differently."
"I will never think differently—never—never!" cried Charlton. And jumping up he rushed off, leaving Ralph to continue his way alone, and somewhat heavy-hearted, for he had a genuine liking for the lonely, sad-faced boy, and was indeed truly sorry that he had said anything to cause him such pain and grief.
"Hallo, Rexworth! What have you been doing with Charlton?" asked Warren, meeting him in the playground a little later. "He rushed across here a little while ago as though he were training for a race; and when I asked him if he had seen you, he said that he didn't know anything about you, and that he didn't want to know, either. Whatever have you done to upset him in that way?"
"We have had a bit of a quarrel," answered Ralph. "Don't ask me about it, old fellow, for I don't want to talk of it. I hope that he will be all right again next week. By the way, Mr. St. Clive has asked me whetheryou would care to come over and spend the afternoon with me to-morrow."
"Will a duck like to swim when it gets enough water to paddle its little tootsies in?" laughed Warren. "My dear chap, I will come on the wings of greased lightning. I must go home and tell the mater first though, or she will wonder what has become of me—fancy that I have met with an accident, or something. Fellows ought not to be careless about such things as that. Then I will come on, if that will do, and—great guns! there goes the bell, and it is my turn to see the school ready for calling over. I am off"—and away Warren sped as fast as he could run.
The evening passed, the following morning came and went, and still Charlton gave Ralph no opportunity for renewing his offer of friendship. He looked pale, miserable, but determined—Ralph had wounded him to the very soul, and he would not—could not indeed—forget or forgive it.
The hour of departure came, and still Charlton avoided Ralph. They left without wishing each other good-bye, and Ralph set out for Mr. St. Clive's, feeling disappointed and heavy-hearted.
But disappointment and heavy-heartedness could not long find place in that bright home. The very first greeting, the warm handshake of Mr. St. Clive, the smile of his wife and the rush with which Irene came to greet him, altogether united to banish every melancholy thought, and to bring sunshine to his heart.
And what a circle of sympathetic listeners he had when he told them about the theft, and how he had chanced to be upon the scene. And both Irene and Mrs. Clive laughed, and were at the same time very indignant that any one should dare to suppose, even for one moment, that Ralph could possibly be a thief.
But Mr. St. Clive looked grave, for he could see how hard this was for the lad, and could understand what a big fight it must have been for Ralph.
"Never fear, my boy," he said when the story was told. "It is hard, but the truth must come out at last—it always does in this world of ours. But now," he continued, "about your friends—I hope they are to be my guests to-day."
"Warren will be here, sir," answered Ralph. And Mr. St. Clive asked, "And not Charlton?"
"No, sir, he could not promise." Ralph did not go into the matter of his quarrel with his chum then; he wanted to talk to Mr. St. Clive alone about that; and the gentleman, seeing that something must have gone amiss, did not press his questions further.
Then Ralph went off with Irene, and had to tell her everything over again, while she sat and listened with sparkling eyes, especially when he told her how Mr. Delermain had behaved.
"I would like to kiss him," she said. "He is a nice man." And Ralph suggested that, as she could not do that, the next best thing would be to kiss himinstead—a thing which proves very conclusively that Ralph was very quickly getting used to the ways of Western civilization.
And then, with a merry call, Tom Warren came upon the scene, for he had arrived, had been welcomed by his host, and sent out into the garden to meet his friend. Irene was introduced—she had known him before, by the way, but that doesn't matter—and Warren was nice, and didn't think girls a bit of a nuisance—which shows that he was a wise boy—and the three just got on as well as could be, until the bell rang for lunch, and—
Well, well, they did enjoy that lunch, that is all; and they demonstrated very clearly what exceedingly healthy appetites they all possessed; and then, that over, they set out for a stroll along the river's bank—for it was very pretty there, and Irene loved the spot. The trees were so stately, and, in some places, grew right to the water's edge, and the grass was so green and velvety, and the river ran so smoothly—perhaps too smoothly—for the current was strong and swift, and glided along, making the water look like a stream of glass as it turned the curve towards Becket Weir, and went roaring and foaming down twelve feet like a little Niagara.
But to-day, when they reached the spot they were somewhat disappointed to find that they were not the only occupants. A party of boys were there—boys from the college—and, of all boys in the world, Elgert,Dobson, and some of their chums who had been to Mr. St. Clive's.
Some of the boys were fishing, for there were excellent perch and roach in the still pools; and Horace Elgert had his canoe, a pretty little boat—light, easy, and graceful, so long as it was kept away from the immediate neighbourhood of the weir.
"Oh," growled Warren, as he saw the others. "How jolly annoying!" And at that Irene burst out laughing, and inquired how anything could possibly be "jolly annoying."
"Well, very annoying, Miss St. Clive," was Warren's answer. "Just to think of that lot being here!"
"I don't see that they need annoy us," she answered.
"We will go a little farther along the bank, down by the weir."
Some of the other boys greeted Warren, and raised their hats as they saw Irene—whom most of them knew by sight; but of Ralph they took no notice, and Elgert, coming by in his canoe, called out loud enough for all to hear—
"Keep your eyes on your property, you fellows, you might lose something here."
"The cad!" muttered Warren, while Irene gave Ralph's arm a little squeeze, as if to tell him never to mind.
"The cad!" said Warren again. "He would not dare do that if you were in the playground; and justlook at him showing off in that canoe—as if no one but he could use a paddle."
"He cannot use one," laughed Ralph. "That is not the way to swing it. He takes it over and over like the sails of a windmill, describing circles with every stroke."
"Well," asked Warren, "how would you use it? I confess that is the way I should handle it."
"It is not the right way. It should be swung from side to side, and he will be over if he tries to play tricks like that"—as Elgert made a fancy stroke which brought the boat down on one side.—"There, he has dropped his paddle! Be careful"—and he raised his voice—"Be careful! He is over!"
Yes; the warning came too late. Elgert reached over to regain his paddle, the canoe took one sudden lurch, turned bottom up, and sent the boy struggling into the water. Elgert could not swim—Ralph saw that at a glance; and, without waiting, off went coat and waistcoat, and into the river Ralph Rexworth went after his foe—the river that ran so swiftly on to the boiling, roaring weir.