CHAPTER X
TORN FROM THE BLACK BOOK
Mr. Weevil came to his desk. The other masters took up their positionsat the head of the different forms. Mr. Weevil half closed his eyes foran instant; then, opening them, fixed them fully upon the eager boysbefore him as he said:
"I have a few words to say to you before work commences, boys, and Iregret to say they are not of a very pleasant character. A mostdiscreditable act--a criminal act--has been committed since we last metin this hall. This desk"--he turned from the boys to the desk, andbrought his hand down upon it sharply--"has been forced open during thenight, and five pages torn from the Black Book. That is not all. AdmiralTalbot--one of the esteemed governors of this school--has offered avaluable prize, as you are all aware, for the best essay on 'TheInvasion of Great Britain.' I have taken a great interest in thesubject, and had prepared a few notes, together with a rough plan of theattempt made by the Dutch under Admiral Tromp to reach these shores.Those notes have gone."
The boys glanced from one to the other as Mr. Weevil paused. Who wasguilty? They had no great love for the Black Book, for in the pages ofthat black-bound ledger were entered the names of every culprit who hadbeen guilty of breaking the rules and had received punishment at thehands of the masters. It could be brought forward at any time inevidence against them. They would willingly have stood by and seen itburnt, but forcing open the master's desk, stealing from it importantpapers, and tearing leaves from the dreaded book was another matter. Itwas theft--theft, too, under its worst guise, for the desk had beenopened at night-time, when the rest of the school were supposed to besleeping.
"The last entry I made in this book," went on Mr. Weevil, holding up theBlack Book, "was last evening, immediately after school was over. I hadentered in it the reason of my sending Moncrief to Dormitory X. Beforereturning the book to its place, I glanced through my notes; then placedthe book on top of them, and locked the desk. I entered the room abouthalf-past eight this morning, and, on going to my desk, at once foundthat it had been opened--for what despicable purpose I have explained toyou. In the absence of Dr. Colville, I consulted with mycolleagues--your masters. That is the reason why the school has notcommenced 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 beenguilty of this petty felony. The culprit is pretty well sure to be foundout in the long run, so that it will be much better for him to speak upnow. The longer he keeps silent, the heavier will be his punishment.Now, then, I am waiting."
Deep silence fell upon the school. Still, the boys glanced from one tothe other. Parfitt flashed a look along the form to where Paul wassitting. Baldry quietly pinched Plunger, and Plunger returned thecompliment by kicking him under the form; but no word broke the silence.
Failing to get an answer to his appeal, Mr. Weevil tried another plan.
"Did any boy leave his dormitory after lights were out last night?"
A struggle went on in Paul's breast for a moment. Should he speak, orshould he remain silent? If he spoke he would bring upon himself theterrible suspicion that he had broken open the master's desk, and hadtorn out the leaves in which were recorded the punishment of StanleyMoncrief. It was well known also that he was one of the competitors forthe essay prize.
And then if he confessed the real reason of his absence from hisdormitory, who would believe him? Certainly not Mr. Weevil. How could heconvince him that he was in Dormitory X that night, for had he notcrawled under the bed at the time he looked in? Should he speak--shouldhe speak? Again and again Paul asked himself the question. Why shouldhe? What had his absence from his dormitory to do with the theft fromthe master's desk? He had been nowhere near the master's desk, so whatwas the use of speaking? Looking up, he caught the glance of Parfitt.
"What the deuce is Parfitt glaring at me for?" he thought. "Is itpossible that he could have seen me leave the dormitory?"
As he put to himself the question, the voice of Mr. Weevil once morebroke the silence:
"Does any boy know whether any of his companions was absent from hisdormitory last night? Don't let him keep silent under any false notionof honour. It is for the honour of the school that he should speak. Ifhe speaks, I will take care that no punishment falls upon him."
Paul sat rigid as stone. If Parfitt saw him leave the dormitory, now washis time to speak; but no voice broke the silence.
"Very well; I had hoped that the culprit would own up to his fault, orthat we should have had assistance from some of you to find him out. Iam disappointed in my expectation. As I have been unable to find theculprit with your assistance, I must do so without it. And be sure Iwill," added Mr. Weevil firmly.
Prayers were said and a hymn sung, and the boys were on the point offiling out to the different class-rooms, when Newall stepped up to Mr.Weevil's desk.
"I hope Moncrief isn't to be kept in Dormitory X any longer, sir," hesaid.
"What's it to do with you--eh?"
"You forget, sir. I was in the row. I ought to have spoken at the time;it was I really started the row--not Moncrief."
"You, was it? Let me hear how it all happened."
"Well, I was chaffing a new boy, and the new boy happened to beMoncrief's cousin. It upset Moncrief, and I ought to have left off; butI didn't. I kept it up, and that's how it was Moncrief came to strikeme."
"Well, it's very honourable of you to own up to it. If every boy in theschool was as honest as you, Newall, we should soon find out who was theculprit who went to my desk. Moncrief was guilty of a Quixotic act ofdisobedience, as it turns out, and I think, in the circumstances he hasbeen sufficiently punished. It is due to you that he is released."
Newall was quite the hero of the school that morning. He had done amanly thing in speaking up for Moncrief. That was the general opinion.Paul thought the same. He had scarcely expected Newall would act up tothe promise that he had given him, but he had carried it out to theletter. He had, somehow, never liked him, but he couldn't be such a badsort of fellow, after all.
"I must try to get over my prejudice against him," he thought.
So Stanley came back to his form, looking none the worse for the nighthe had spent in Dormitory X.
It was not, however, till he and Paul were in the grounds that they hadthe chance of speaking together.
"I thought Weevil meant keeping me in that wretched dormitory anotherday and night," Stanley said, as Paul cordially greeted him. "How did hecome to let me out, I wonder?"
"Guess."
"Have you been speaking up for me?"
"No; Mr. Weevil wouldn't listen to me yesterday, and he wouldn't havelistened this morning. Guess again."
"My young cousin, I suppose," answered Stanley, after a moment'sreflection. "Has he been crying to Weevil?"
"Wrong again."
"Oh, bother! I give it up, then! Who was it?"
"You would never guess. Newall!"
"What?" Stanley stared at Paul incredulously.
"Fact--Newall. And he did it very well, too. He owned up frankly beforethe masters and all the school that it was he who commenced thequarrel."
"Why, I thought he told you that he wouldn't speak?"
"So he did; but he has altered his mind, you see. He told me he wasgoing to speak, but I couldn't believe my ears till I actually heardhim. A night's reflection has done him good, though he hadn't thebenefit of a change of air in Dormitory X. It's really very decent ofhim, and I rather fancy if I were in your place----"
He paused, as though reflecting on what he should do if he were inStanley's place.
"Well, if you were in my place--go on."
"I should go up to Newall and shake hands with him."
"Would you really?" said Stanley haltingly. "I--I--don't think I can dothat, Paul. There's so much bad blood between us."
"All the more reason you should shake hands. It's wonderful what a shakeof the hands does for bad blood. It's the finest leech in theworld--takes all the bad blood out."
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nbsp; "Oh, you're a better fellow than I am, and can do that sort of thing. Ican't!"
"Nonsense! It's like a plunge into cold water--quite nice when theplunge is once made. Come along! I'll go with you."
He tucked his arm in Stanley's, and together they went in search ofNewall. They found him with Parfitt and another companion. Stanleywalked up to him.
"I hear that it's through you, Newall, I've got out of that den I was inlast night. You've done me a good turn, and, if--if--you don't mind, I'dlike to shake hands with you."
He held out his hand as he spoke, but Newall took no notice of it. Helooked straight at Stanley.
"I really didn't know that I'd done you a good turn. What was the goodturn?"
"Speaking up for me this morning to Mr. Weevil, and getting me out ofthat wretched dormitory."
"Oh, that"--he broke into a mocking laugh--"that! You call that a goodturn?"
A wave of scarlet came to Stanley's face. The extended hand fell to hisside. He looked to Paul. Had his friend deceived him? Was this only aruse on his part to make him shake hands with Newall, or had Newalltaken leave of his senses? He could learn nothing from Paul's face,except that it looked just as mystified as he was.
"Certainly it was a good turn. I thoroughly upset Weevil yesterday, andgoodness knows how much longer he would have kept me a prisoner if youhadn't spoken up for me, as Percival here tells me you did."
"Of course he did," put in Paul cheerfully. "He spoke up to Weevil likea brick. It's no use trying to hide your light under a bushel, Newall."
"Yes, it's true enough I spoke up to Weevil"--the mocking laughter haddied out of Newall's eyes, and there was now a cruel, vindictive lightin them, just as there had been when Paul had spoken to him the daybefore--"and it's true enough I wanted to get you out of that hole inthe roof. But it wasn't to shake hands with you. Not at all. I got youout of that den so that I might meet you squarely face to face."
Stanley began to understand. It was not from any kindly motive Newallhad spoken up for him that morning. The bitterness of his words now toldhim that, and the vindictiveness in his eyes spoke even plainer thanspeech. Paul had been deceived, and he had been deceived. Why had hedemeaned himself by asking a fellow like Newall to shake hands with him?He ought to have known better from past experience.
"You understand?" went on Newall in the same bitter tone. "Oh, yes, Isee you do. You struck me a blow. The marks of it are still here, yousee"--pointing to his lip, which was discoloured and cut. "I'm glad ofit. It kept me awake last night, thinking of you. And when I looked atmyself in the glass this morning, I thought of you again. It's nice tohave a memento of your friends, don't you think so?"
Stanley did not answer. What answer was possible to these mocking jibes?Paul was silent, too. All power of speech seemed taken from him.
"Well, I mean having that blow back--the cowardly blow you gave me overPercival's shoulder. I could give it to you now"--his fist was clenchedas though he would have dearly liked to make good his words--"but thatwould only mean that one or the other would be sent to the den fromwhich I've just rescued you. That would be idiotic and make mattersworse."
"You mean to say that you don't wish to end the quarrel between us. Youwish to fight it out to the bitter end?" demanded Stanley, at lastfinding voice.
"You've got it!" came the slow, firm answer--"to the bitter end!"
The Hero of Garside School Page 11