Whispering Tongues

by Homer Greene

  CHAPTER V.

  A COWARDLY REVENGE.

  It is hard to say whether Parmenter or Charley Lee suffered more fromtheir estrangement, and impossible to declare which felt more keenlythe disgrace of his punishment.

  Certainly Lee's appearance indicated the greater grief, but people saidthat was because he was at home. There he had every day to meet thesympathetic kindness of his mother, which was worse than any reproachcould be; and there he had every day to see in his father's face thepained look which spoke more eloquently than words.

  Charley had not the firmness nor the mental and moral strength ofParmenter. He was kinder, more impulsive, more unselfish; but hedepended more on circumstances to keep him at his best.

  In the shadow of disgrace that had now fallen on him he grewdespondent, even despairing. With the old companionship suddenly losthe became unspeakably lonely. He found it impossible to rise frombeneath the burdens that had fallen on him.

  All the gentle home influence, all the friendly sympathy andassistance of those who had been his companions in the better days,and who still loved him none the less for the shadows that rested onhim--all these things were wholly unavailing. He weakened, wavered, andbroke.

  He neglected his studies, avoided the class-room on every pretext,lost his frank and cheery manner, fell back mentally and morally withstartling rapidity. By and by it began to be whispered about that hewas becoming addicted to intoxicating drinks.

  One man had seen him drinking at a city bar. Another had met him lateat night, going home with thick tongue and unsteady step. No painswere spared to turn him back; but father, mother, and friends labored,implored, and suffered in vain.

  There was but one person in the world who, at this crisis, could havearrested young Lee's course and brought him back to safety. That personwas Parmenter--Parmenter as he had been in the old days, strong infriendship, forceful in will, undaunted by disaster.

  He, by merely stretching out his hand, could have turned Charley Leeback toward manhood.

  But no one thought of that. The gulf between the two young men hadgrown too wide. Besides, Parmenter was demoralized as well as Lee; hehad not fallen in the same way, but certainly he had fallen.

  He, too, was neglectful of his studies and remiss in his collegeduties. He avoided the companionship of his fellows and sank, day byday, into a state of listless self-sufficiency from which all theefforts of his friends failed to rouse him. Whispering tongues wereagain at work, bringing to his ears tales of remarks, and declarationsmade by Professor Lee and his wife, charging Parmenter with being thecause of their son's downfall.

  The young man bitterly resented these imputations, and assumed at oncethat Professor Lee had uttered them.

  What right had they to charge him with their son's waywardness,when he had not even spoken to the fellow for more than a month?He could explain the story only on one hypothesis--Charley, in hisweakness, must have complained of him. But poor Charley! he was hardlyresponsible now for what he did.

  Parmenter's anger and resentment toward his former friend had almostvanished, but the bitterness in his heart toward Professor Lee showedno abatement.

  He had not yet given the word for Van Loan's punishment, although hisold comrades had frequently expressed a wish to "get even" with thattale-bearer and breaker of promises. Not that there was much doubt ofVan Loan's perfidy, and not but that Parmenter thoroughly despised him.

  But Parmenter was too heartily sick of the whole business to reopenold scores, and too listless and despondent to start new troubles.Nevertheless, Van Loan was meeting with his reward. It was wellunderstood among the students that his speedy release from the hands ofthe hazers was due to his promise not to betray Parmenter--a promisewhich, it was believed, he had deliberately violated.

  His class would have no more of his leadership. His companions fellaway from him. He could no longer find attentive listeners to hisboastful tales.

  He still kept at the head with his studies; but being much alone,he grew downcast and sullen. The humiliations to which he had beensubjected on the night of the hazing were too deep for him ever toforgive or forget.

  His hatred for Parmenter showed little abatement; and when, by chance,it became known to him that Lee was the one who had asked him theinsulting questions with their forced answers on that miserable night,his feeling toward Charley was scarcely less bitter.

  Van Loan exulted in the punishment of the two young men; he gloriedin their downfall. But his resentment was not satisfied by theirhumiliation and disgrace. He waited for some new opportunity to gratifyhis mean thirst for revenge.

  So far as Charley was concerned, that opportunity came to Van Loan oneday in a most unexpected manner.

  He went into a beer saloon in the city, a place to which some of themore weak and reckless of the students occasionally resorted. Half adozen men were in the room; and among them, leaning against the bar, anobject of entertainment to them, was some poor fellow in an advancedstate of inebriety. It needed but the second glance to tell Van Loanthat the drunken man was Charley Lee.

  Lee discovered Van Loan at once.

  "Hello, Vanly!" he cried. "Why, m' dear boy, I haven't seen yousince--since--say, Billy," turning to the saloon-keeper, who stoodbehind the bar, "give this man a drink; anything 'e wants; he's frien'o' mine."

  He had already staggered forward and embraced Van Loan effusively.Some strange turn of his drunken fancy had presented the man to hisdisordered mind as his bosom friend.

  For the moment Van Loan was at a loss what to do or say. Then thereshot suddenly into his mind a scheme for revenge as daring as it wasdastardly.

  "I will," he said to himself, "lead this drunken fellow through thestreets of the city and up College Hill to his home, in broad daylight,a spectacle for all men!"

  Van Loan turned the thought over in his mind as if it were incomparablysweet. He waited but a moment to perfect his plan. Then he turnedquietly to Lee.

  "Come, Charley," he said, "let's go home and sober up; they'll belooking for you, you know."

  The saloon-keeper came out from behind the bar and called Van Loanaside.

  "Is he a friend of yours?" he asked.

  "Yes," replied Van Loan.

  "Well, hadn't you better let him go up-stairs and sleep this thing off?"

  "No," was the reply; "he wouldn't get over it till morning, and hisfather and mother would be worried about him. No, I'll take him home."

  "Then I'll send for a close carriage for you."

  "No, you needn't. He can walk well enough."

  "My gracious! Look here! you don't want to show that young man up onthe street like that, do you?"

  Van Loan turned on the man savagely.

  "It's none of your business what I want to do!" he exclaimed. "Yourpart of the programme was ended when you got him drunk. Now you mindyour affairs, and I'll mind mine. Come, Charley, let's go."

  He went to Lee, took his arm, and led him toward the door. The maudlinyoung fellow waved his free hand broadly to the group at the bar.

  "Good-by, gen'l'men!" he shouted. "By, Billy! Come an' see us. Fatherd'lighted to see you any time."

  The saloon-keeper shrugged his shoulders suggestively, and made motionsas if to wash his hands, as once did Pilate of old.

  Van Loan struck the screen door open, and the two young men passed outinto the street. It was no easy task to guide Lee's wavering footsteps.His weight rested heavily on Van Loan's arm; and at frequent intervalshe insisted on stopping and facing his companion, in order to givegreater emphasis to some expression of his drunken fancy.

  They met many people. Some of them, who knew both young men, lookedaskance at them as they approached, and then passed on with knowinglooks and scornful smiles.

  At the corner of Centre and Concord Streets they came upon Miss Darcy,a charming girl to whom Lee had taken a strong fancy. She stoppedsuddenly, staring at the pair in surprise.

  "Is he ill, sir?" she asked.

  "Worse than that," replie
d Van Loan, smiling. "You had better pass on,Miss Darcy; his society is not agreeable to-day."

  She knew what the man meant, and turned away in sorrow and humiliation.

  Poor Lee, on seeing her, had attempted to lift his hat, but had pushedit from his head instead, and it had rolled into the street.

  "S'cuse me, Miss Darcy," he stammered; "somew'at tired to-day. Myfrien', Mr. Vanly, he--I--" But Miss Darcy was already out of hearing.

  Van Loan braced his charge against a tree, and went to recover the hat.Street-boys came up, and began to poke fun at the unfortunate fellow,following him with jeers as he moved on.

  Half-way up Concord Street the pair met President Mather, driving downwith some ladies of his family. Lee discovered them, waved his handgrandly toward the carriage, and called out:

  "'Ello, Prexy! Beau'ful day, ladies! Comp'ments of season to you all!"

  The president reined in his team, observed Charley an instant, anddrove on.

  They met a dozen people from College Hill, acquaintances of both men,ladies and gentlemen, who stopped for a moment to make sure that it wasa case of inebriety and not of illness, and then passed on in painedsurprise.

  A party of students came down, curious and sympathetic, making offersof help. Van Loan declared that he wanted no assistance, and declinedtheir offers with scant courtesy. He was having his revenge; it wasdeep and sweet indeed; but he began to feel that he should be glad whenhe got his burdensome charge inside the door of his home.

  At the college gate Parmenter met them. At the first glance he did notrecognize Lee. When he looked at him again he was shocked at the changein his appearance. Van Loan would have passed on with his victim, butParmenter stopped them.

  "Where did you find him?" he asked.

  "At Billy's," was the reply.

  "Did you bring him from there?"

  "Yes."

  "Through the streets?"

  "Through the streets."

  "On foot?"

  "On foot."

  Parmenter's blood was boiling with indignation. In his righteous wrathhe forgot that Charley was not his friend as of old.

  "Why did you do that devil's deed?" he exclaimed.

  "To show the public what a beast the fellow is," replied Van Loan,fiercely; "and I'm taking him to his father for the same reason. Getout of my way and let us pass!"

  Parmenter was at a white heat.

  "Let go of him!" he cried. "Don't lay a finger on him! I'll see himhome. You've about killed him already!"

  Meanwhile Charley was leaning against a gatepost, staring stupidly fromone to the other.

  "Take the drunken fool, and welcome!" cried Van Loan, turning away ina passion. The words were hardly out of his mouth before Parmentershouted, "Put up your hands, you brute. Defend yourself if you can. I'mgoing to thrash you!"

  "You--you!" screamed Van Loan, striking a pugilistic attitude.

  But he was no match for Parmenter, whose fist shot out next moment,struck Van Loan squarely on the jaw, and sent him sprawling in the dustof the road.

  At that moment Tutor Delavan came up. He knew intuitively what it allmeant.

  "Here, Parmenter," he said, "let's get Charley into the house asquickly as possible. You support him on that side, I will on this. Ifever a man was justified in knocking another down, you were."

  They straightened the drunken man up, and started with him along thecollege walk toward his father's residence, not stopping to answer thequestions nor satisfy the curiosity of those whom they met.

  Poor Lee had fallen suddenly into a sort of stupor. His face grewpallid and his eyes glassy. His chin dropped. He no longer tried tospeak, and his feet dragged so heavily that he had almost to be carried.

  For the first time since the quarrel, pity and dread came intoParmenter's breast. Never in all his life had he looked upon aspectacle so pitiable and so revolting.

  The two men dragged their helpless burden up the steps of ProfessorLee's residence, but before they could ring the bell the professorhimself was at the door. The next moment they were all in the hall, thestreet-door was closed, the limp and insensible form of the young manwas laid carefully on the settee, and Delavan had hurried off to findthe college physician.

  Professor Lee pushed the hair back tenderly from his boy's eyes andforehead, then he turned sharply to Parmenter.

  "Did you lead him into this also?" he asked, huskily.

  The tone, the implication, roused the tiger again in Parmenter's breast.

  "I did not," was the swift reply. "I never drank with him in my life,nor ever suggested such a thing. I do not wonder, though, that you laythis crowning disgrace of your son's at my door, since you have beenpleased, without cause, to charge to my account every fault and follyof which he has been guilty for the last six months."

  Professor Lee's face was white with emotion.

  "Look here, Parmenter!" he said, "this is no time nor place forquarrels or explanations. Let me say to you simply that I do not needyour presence here. You may go!"

  Parmenter backed slowly down the hall, awed and subdued by the man'squiet anger. He did not speak again. He cast one glance at the poor,unconscious figure on the hall settee; then he turned and left thehouse.

  He went to his room and picked up a book, but could not read. He wentdown to his supper, but could not eat. He tossed about in his bed allnight, but he could not sleep.

  He had unburdened his mind to Professor Lee, indeed--a thing he hadbeen longing to do for weeks. But it brought him no relief. On thecontrary, deeply angered as he was at the professor, a flush of shamecrept into his face whenever he thought of the time and place he hadchosen for his protest.

  His mind became gloomier and his thoughts more desperate every day.He scarcely opened a book to study from it. His brain was dull andunsteady, and he could think of little else than his own miserablecondition and his unhappy relations with the Lees.

  He felt that Professor Lee had wronged him beyond forbearance, beyondendurance, beyond any hope of reconciliation.

  As for Charley, his case was different. He was weak, boyish, impulsive,influenced by his father; but it might well be that time would heal thedifferences between him and Charley.

  This was Parmenter's daily, his hourly thought and hope; it was sweeterin his mind than had ever been his visions of oratorical success. Forhe had not been able, in all the stormy days that had passed, to drivefrom his heart the last spark of affection for the dearest friend hisyoung manhood had known.

  And now, when that friend's disgrace and humiliation were deepest, thespark began to take on new life, to kindle, to glow, to send light andheat through his whole mental and moral system.

  Perhaps this was due in part to his memory of that prostrate figure onthe sofa in the hall. It was a picture that he could not forget,--therelaxed muscles, the pallid face, the disordered hair, the glassy,half-closed eyes, the wreck and ruin of young manhood stretchedprostrate in his father's hall.

  It was pitiable, it was dreadful--the sight of death would have beenless terrible.

  Day and night this image was before Parmenter's eyes. Go where he wouldhe could not escape it. It followed him relentlessly. It hung about himas persistently and ceaselessly as his own shadow. It blotted out allthought of anger or revenge toward Charley Lee; it brought with it onlypatience, pity, a desire to help, and a great longing to be reconciled.

  Before he quite knew it himself, Parmenter was sighing for the oldcompanionship, looking forward impatiently to the days when, with thekindly help of each other, they would both be themselves again; waitingwith feverish anxiety for an opportunity to get back on the old fairfooting with Charley Lee.