CHAPTER XXXIII
FRIEND AND FOE
Paul, unconscious that he was being followed, pressed forward to St.Bede's. As he drew near a boy came from the gates. Paul recognized him.It was Murrell, one of the seniors at St. Bede's, who had taken partwith the others in hustling and jibing at him the last time he came inthat direction.
Murrell caught sight of him almost simultaneously, so that it would havebeen impossible for Paul to avoid him had he wished.
"Hallo! Turned up again, have you?" cried the youth, coming to a deadstop in front of Paul. "I thought you'd had enough of these parts thelast time you were here. But p'raps you enjoy ragging. There's noaccounting for tastes--specially the taste of a Gargoyle. Look here, ifI were you I would cut!"
"I don't think you would. If you were me you would stand your ground,and that's what I mean doing," smiled Paul.
"You're jolly cheeky, Gargoyle! Now, look here, take the advice of onewho wants to do you a good turn--cut! There are a lot of the Bedeshanging about, and if they happen to get hold of you, there won't bemuch left of you, I can tell you! Are you insured?"
"No."
"My stars! I wouldn't like to be standing in your shoes--I reallywouldn't! Tired of life--eh? That's why you're poking your head into thelion's den--eh?"
"Wrong again--quite wrong. I've come to see one of your fellows who'sbeen very kind to me--Wyndham."
"Oh, Wyndham! The one you ran away from at the sand-pits?"
Paul winced under the jibe. He had not yet got over that weakness.Murrell was regarding him curiously. No answer coming from his victim,he spoke again:
"You want me to fetch Wyndham?"
"If you would be so kind."
"Well, if you don't take the cake--likewise the bun, and the biscuit! AGargoyle has the superb cheek to ask a Bede to be his errand-boy! StandsScotland where it did? Is the world going round, or is it standingstill? Am I standing on my head or my heels? Now, then--your lastchance! If you don't want to go back in pieces, take it!Going--going--gone!"
"I don't intend going till I've seen Wyndham," said Paul firmly. "If youwon't do me the favour I ask, I must keep on till I find some one alittle more courteous."
He was about to pass on, when Murrell stopped him with a friendly pat onthe shoulder.
"All right! You needn't get into a wax! You're not such a bad sort offellow, after all, for a Gargoyle! Wait here! Shan't be long!"
His tone had suddenly changed, and before Paul could say anythingfurther he was gone. Paul was so astonished that he could scarcelybelieve the evidence of his eyes and ears. In an instant Murrell'sattitude had changed from a threatening to a friendly attitude. Was itmeant to mislead him? Had he no intention of going for Wyndham? Did hemean instead to acquaint some of the boys who had previously set on himof his arrival, so that they might carry out the purpose which they hadbeen forced to relinquish? This view seemed certainly the more probableof the two, and therefore Paul was very agreeably surprised when, acouple of minutes later, he saw the well-known figure of Wyndham comingfrom the college gates towards him. His handsome face lit up with asmile as he caught sight of Paul.
"Percival," he said, as his hand went out to him, "I'm so glad to seeyou! So was Murrell."
"So was Murrell!" repeated Paul. "You wouldn't say so if you knew thereception he gave me just now. You're joking?"
"No; I was never more serious in my life. As a Bede, he was bound not tobe over-polite to a Garsider; but he thinks a good deal more of you thanhe did, and so do most of us--all through Murrell. Why? Well, hehappened to catch a glimpse of what happened on the river a week or soago--came up at the tag-end, but heard all that had happened from someof the other fellows on the bank. Murrell and many more here arebeginning to think that you are too good for a Gargoyle, though youdidn't cut such a grand figure at the sand-pits. They're beginning tobelieve what they wouldn't swallow at the time--that you're one of thebravest fellows at Garside. To think that I'm the only fellow who knowshow brave! Why don't you let me speak and set you right?"
"No, no, Wyndham! You're very good; but it mustn't be. There are reasonsagainst it which you will know some day. But there is a way in which youcan serve me."
"What way? If I can help you, be sure I will."
Paul thereupon told him the additional misfortune that had happened atGarside on the afternoon the boys fell into the river in the loss of theschool flag. Wyndham listened to the story attentively. He did not speaktill Paul had ended.
"You mean to suggest, I suppose, that some of the fellows here took theflag?"
"To speak frankly, I do; but I know well enough that you've not had ahand in it."
"Thanks for your good opinion; but I don't know that I deserve it. Afterall, why shouldn't I have had a hand in it? The fellows here look uponyou as the enemy, and you look upon us in the same light. Haven't we aperfect right to get possession of the enemy's flag if we can?"
"Yes; in fair and open battle. But this wasn't in fair and open battle;it was a theft."
"That's rather a hard word, Percival. It's as good as saying some onehere's a thief!"
Wyndham spoke with greater warmth than Paul had ever heard him speak.For the first time he saw an angry light in his eye.
"Forgive me, Wyndham! I've hurt your feelings; I can see that I have.And you are the last in the world I would do that to. I'll withdrawtheft. Let's call it strategy."
The cloud vanished like magic from Wyndham's face.
"That's a very polite and nice way of putting it, Percival," he smiled."You're a great deal more considerate of my feelings than I am of yours.I tell you what"--his face became serious again--"it's done me a lot ofgood since I knew you; since I was able to open my heart to you and tellyou about the little brother who was taken from us years back. I'veoften wished that I was at Garside to stand by you. It must be verylonely for you over there."
"No, indeed; it's far from lonely, but sometimes it has been very, veryhard to bear. If Moncrief had only stood by me, and all the rest of theschool had been against me, I would not have minded; but----"
"Ah, do not speak of that! It makes me miserable. It gave me a savagedelight at the time to fight that fellow. It made me a hero here; butsince 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 bloodbetween you and Moncrief; it took from you your best friend, and setyour school against you. It did worse than that; it has widened thebreach between St. Bede's and Garside, and deepened the old feud, whichwas beginning to die out. And now that it has been stirred into a flameagain, it will take longer than ever to die out."
He paused for a moment, as though deep in thought. Paul, too, was busywith his own thoughts. He knew not how to answer him.
"Don't speak against yourself, Wyndham, for it pains me a great dealmore than it pains you. I owe you a lot for the help you gave me on thatnight I went to Redmead; but there's one other debt, greater than thateven, of which I have never spoken. Speaking just now of your littlebrother has brought it all back to me."
"Speaking of my brother?" repeated Wyndham, with that tremor in hisvoice which had fallen so pathetically on Paul's ear when he had firstspoken of the dead boy.
"Your brother Archie. I haven't forgotten the name, you see, and I havenever forgotten--never shall forget--the story. I had never tried tounderstand 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 muchsympathy between us. When we pass to the upper forms we only rememberthe cuffs and kicks we got in the lower forms, and think it our duty topay them back with interest. But your story--the story of your deadbrother--stuck in my memory. I carried it back with me when I returnedto Garside after vac. The first little chap I came across was afresher--a poor, weak, lonely little chap, who hadn't a chum in theschool. I thought of your brother. My heart went out to the boy, and Isaid to myself: 'By God's help, I'll stand by you; and I'll be yourfriend!'"
"That was
noble of you!" said Wyndham, clasping Paul's hand in his. "Whois the little chap? Is he still at Garside?"
"Still at Garside!" repeated Paul, in tones that had died away almost toa whisper. "He's the little chap I fished out of the river."
"Ah, then, you've nobly redeemed your promise. You saved his life."
"I cannot say. He is still in bed--still very weak; but the link betweenus kept me strong when all Garside was against me. Once or twice itseemed more than I could stand, and I had serious thoughts of throwingup the sponge and clearing out of Garside. What was there to keep methere? Then I thought of Hibbert, and the thought made me strong again.So I kept on, and weathered the storm--or, rather, am still weatheringit. The thought of the little chap kept me to my duty."
Once more there was silence between them. Wyndham had tucked his arm inPaul's. The two were walking along the road to Cranstead Common. Thebond of sympathy between them had grown stronger and stronger duringthose brief moments in which they had bared their hearts to each other.
"About this flag," broke in Wyndham. "Do you know for certain that it'sbeen taken by some fellow here?"
"No; it's only a suspicion. I may be wrong, but I don't think I am."
"When was it missed?"
"On that afternoon when the accident took place on the river. It was ahalf-holiday at both schools. It was waving over the turret when I leftthe school; it had gone when I came back."
"That's over a week ago, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"The fellow who took it must have had plenty of pluck. Well, if I can doanything in fairness to get you your flag back again, I'll do it; but atpresent it's as great a mystery to me as to you."
The two shook hands and parted.
Plunger and Harry had crept through a hedge, and witnessed a good dealof the interview that had taken place between the two, without hearinganything. When the two passed down the road--Wyndham with his arm linkedin Paul's--Plunger and Harry prepared to follow them; but before theycould move a step they were seized by the legs and thrown to the ground.
"Those Gargoyles!" The words were enough. They were in the hands of theenemy.
The Hero of Garside School Page 34