Whispering Tongues

by Homer Greene

  CHAPTER VI.

  ALMOST A TRAGEDY.

  Charley Lee had not been seen in public since the day when hisintoxication had been so terribly exposed by Van Loan. Some of thestudents said that he was ashamed to show himself; others that hisfather was keeping him prisoner. But after a little while the truthcame out, and all the college knew that he was ill, and could not goout.

  The reaction from his fit of inebriety had been a severe shock to asystem not especially strong, and the disgrace which had fallen on himpreyed sharply on his mind. He suffered a kind of nervous prostration,followed by a low fever, and his strength gave way rapidly.

  Parmenter was stricken with grief and remorse. His old friend's illnessswept away the last vestige of his resentment. In all that had passedbetween them, Parmenter came to recognize no unfriendly acts but hisown, no unkind words save those which he himself had spoken.

  He kept himself informed of Charley's condition through his friends;and at last, finding that the sick man was not likely to be able toleave his room until after Commencement, he sat down one day and wrotehim this letter:

  "FRIDAY AFTERNOON.

  "DEAR CHARLEY,--I feel that I have been a brute, and I want to apologize. I also have some beggarly excuses for my conduct which I would like to tell to you personally, if I may call and see you. May I come, and when?--Fraternally, PARMENTER."

  He dispatched this message by the janitor's boy, and paced the floorof his room in a fever of anxiety until the answer came. When the boyreturned with the letter, he snatched it from his grasp, and toreopen the envelope as a starving man would break a crust of bread. Themessage ran:

  "DEAR FRED,--Never mind the excuses or the apology. If you say it's all right I'm satisfied. Only come and see me and let's get back on the old footing. Come to-morrow morning, say about ten o'clock. I feel a little more chipper mornings.

  "You have my everlasting gratitude for making the first advance. I don't know whether I could have brought myself to it or not. On second thought come at nine o'clock--don't wait till ten. Don't fail me, old boy.--LEE."

  Parmenter sat down on the bed, and cried like a child. Then he jumpedup and wiped the tears away, and laughed, and read the letter again,and many times again. No pleasure that his life had ever before knownhad thrilled him as did these simple, tremulously written words.

  He went to the window, and looked out upon the sweet June landscape.What a glorious day it was! He seized his hat and left the room singing:

  "And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays."

  He went down the stairs two steps at a time. Some students in the lowerhall, hearing his cheery voice and seeing his radiant face, so wonderedat the transformation that they turned and followed him.

  Out on the campus was a crowd of Sophomores getting up a game offoot-ball. Parmenter went over, and begged to be allowed to play withthem, and they gladly gave him his old place in the team.

  And how he did play! What tremendous runs he made!--though he had mopedso long that he was not in his usual condition. How he shouted andlaughed at each brilliant point in the game, and shook hands all roundwhen his team came out victorious!

  Every one wondered and rejoiced at his changed manner, and said thatfor some unexplainable reason "Richard was himself again."

  That evening Parmenter sat with a group of students on the terrace,and sang college songs for an hour in the good old fashion; and whenhe went to bed he slept with such refreshing sweetness as he had notknown before for many weeks.

  The next morning he arose early. It was Saturday, and there were norecitations nor examinations. The work of the term was finished, andthe next week was to be given up to the pleasures of Commencement.Parmenter started out for a walk before breakfast.

  The morning was exceptionally beautiful, even for June. He crossed thecampus and struck into the woods, drinking in the dewy perfumes as hewent, feasting his eyes on sylvan sights, listening, with rapt ears,to the music of the singing birds. He thought he had never in his lifebefore seen a morning so thoroughly charming as this.

  At one time he found himself in the path leading to the ledge wherethey had taken Van Loan that miserable night in April. He turned asideat once, and struck off in another direction. He did not care torevisit the scene of that night's folly. The shadow of this incidentwas the only one that fell upon his spirits during all that long andbeautiful morning walk.

  When he returned to the college grounds he started across the campus onhis way to breakfast, refreshed, vigorous, hopeful, with the sunshineof a brighter day than he had known for months already flooding hisheart.

  In front of the chapel a group of young men stood in earnestconversation; at the corner of South College a half-dozen more weretalking to each other in subdued voices. The expressions on theirfaces indicated that something had gone wrong.

  Parmenter did not stop to inquire what it was. Somehow he did not dareto. He pushed on, with a sudden sinking of heart, until he came infront of Professor Lee's residence.

  He stopped and glanced up at the house uneasily. People seemed to bemoving about hurriedly in the upper rooms. The hall door opened as hestood there; and Mr. Delavan, the tutor, came out and down the steps.Parmenter approached him and asked hesitatingly:

  "Is Charley about the same as yesterday?"

  The tutor looked at him wonderingly.

  "Haven't you heard," he replied, "of his changed condition?"

  "No," responded Parmenter, huskily, backing up against a tree forsupport. "How changed--worse?"

  "Yes, much worse. An intense fever, accompanied by delirium, set inlast evening and rapidly exhausted him. He lies now in a state of coma,with symptoms of heart failure."

  "Will--will he die?"

  Parmenter's lips were white, his knees were trembling, his voice wasscarcely audible.

  "They have little hope of saving his life. The end may come at anymoment. Here, take my arm. The news has unnerved you. I am going yourway; I will walk with you."

  Parmenter went to his room, but he could not stay there. In tenminutes he was out on the campus asking for the latest news fromCharley. He sat on the terrace wall in a place where he could watchthe Lee house. As often as the door opened he caught his breath in thedread that some one would bring out news of Charley's death.

  But Charley still lived. The spark of life in his body paled and glowedalternately, and as the day wore on, hope revived.

  Late in the afternoon Parmenter caught sight of Doctor Park, hurryingalong in front of South College. He ran and overtook him.

  "What about Charley?" he asked breathlessly.

  "My dear man," said the doctor, kindly, "we can't tell. He is alive; weare making every effort to keep him alive. That is all I can say."

  The night came on, but Parmenter did not sleep. Many times in thedarkness he crept down the section stairs, across the campus, and overto the house where Charley lay. There were lights in the windows. Hecould see people moving about in the rooms, and twice some one came outof whom he could make inquiries.

  Just before dawn he stood in the shadow of the great elm by the side ofProfessor Lee's gate, waiting to see or hear some one or something fromhis friend.

  The hall door opened, and the professor himself came out. With hishands behind him, and his face turned toward the stars, he came downto the gate, and out on the walk, passing under the gas-lamp withinfive feet of Parmenter, and continuing along the terrace to the collegegate. There he turned, came back the same way, and reentered his house.

  That face, as Parmenter saw it under the lamplight, coming and going,struck him to the heart. Never before in his life had he seen such woeand hope expressed in a single countenance. Never before had he seenthe intense desire of a man's heart strained through his face like this.

  Was it possible that thi
s was the man whom he had charged with unjustmotives, with double dealing, with conduct entirely at variance withthe whole tenor of his good and gracious life? And what foundation wasthere for the charge?

  As he stood there, Parmenter went over in swift review the reasons forhis hatred of Professor Lee. He stripped them of their fallacies, oftheir sophistries, of their baseless judgments, till they stood nakedand shrinking before him; and then for the first time he realized howutterly unworthy he had been to criticise the motives or denounce theconduct of such a man.

  He went back to his room under the dawn-flushed sky, more wise and morehumble than he had ever been before.

  All through the quiet Sunday Charley lay, gaining a little hour byhour, and when night came again they said that now he had a fair chanceto live.

  Early on Monday morning the word went round that there would be acollege meeting in the North College Hall, and it was whispered thatVan Loan's case would be taken up and disposed of. The feeling againsthim on account of his heartless exposure of Lee had become intensifiedwith Charley's critical illness; and now that the strain of suspensewas somewhat relieved, it sought to find vent.

  The meeting was large beyond precedent. Davis, the honor man of theSenior class, was made chairman; and White, a Freshman, arose andoffered the following resolutions:

  "_Whereas_: Benjamin E. Van Loan, a member of the Freshman class, was,on the afternoon of the seventeenth day of the present month, guilty ofan offense unbecoming a student of Concord College, unmanly and inhumanin the extreme, and

  "_Whereas_: For his said offense and certain abusive language connectedtherewith Sophomore Alfred B. Parmenter promptly knocked him down,therefore be it

  "_Resolved_: That the hearty thanks of the students at Concord Collegeare due to the said Parmenter for his just and timely blow, and be itfurther

  "_Resolved_: That while the students do not desire to usurp the powersof the faculty, they wish to express it as their undivided opinionthat the interests of all persons will be better served if the saidBenjamin E. Van Loan shall sever his connection with Concord College atthe end of the present college year."

  The resolutions were carried with a rush. Not a dissenting voice washeard. A committee of three was appointed to present them to Van Loan.

  When, an hour later, this committee went to Van Loan's room, he was notthere. The room was in disorder, as if he had made ready for a hastyflight. The committee on presentation of resolutions has never yet beenable to report its duty fulfilled, for the reason that Van Loan hasnever since been seen at Concord College.

  During the day it was said that, with the greatest care and the mostcomplete rest and quiet, Charley might recover. Thereupon Charley'sclassmates formed themselves into squads, and took turns in patrollingthe grounds about the Lee house.

  They allowed no one to walk on the stone pavements in that vicinity.They kept away all noise and intrusion. They themselves went abouttheir duties on tiptoe and spoke in whispers. Nothing was left undoneby any one on the hill to help forward the chances of Charley'srecovery. The Seniors gave up their class ball on his account, and theJuniors their "cremation."

  No bells were rung, no terrace songs were sung; the quiet of apeaceful Sunday reigned for days between South College and the gate.

  On Commencement Day the announcement was made from the stage that thedanger line in Charley's case had been passed, and only the unexpectedwould now prevent his recovery.

  A great cheer went up from the vast audience; for Lee, in spite of hislast few months of ill behavior, was still the best-loved fellow on thehill.

  This was on Wednesday. On Thursday Parmenter started for his home,three hundred miles away. He had seen neither Charley nor ProfessorLee; it was not possible to do so. But he was content now to bide histime for explanation, for confession, for reconciliation.

  Mr. Delavan had told him on the day of his departure of some thingsthat gave him a clearer insight into Van Loan's perfidy, and intoProfessor Lee's simple honesty of character; and in the days of soberthought that followed he felt more and more how unworthy had been hisself-made charges and suspicions, how unjustifiable and unmanly hadbeen his treatment of Professor Lee.

  In August a rumor reached Parmenter that the Lees were going to Europefor a long vacation. Both Charley's health and his father's demandedthe change, and Mrs. Lee was to go with them. Parmenter was aroused bythe news into sudden activity.

  He had looked forward to the opening of the term in September as thetime when he should go to the man whom he had wronged, arraign himself,plead guilty, and ask to be forgiven. He could not postpone thatduty for a year, perhaps for two years longer; he felt that he couldnot bear the burden of his shame for all that time, nor rest in theuncertainty of only a possible reconciliation.

  He _must_ see Professor Lee and Charley before they sailed.

  He threw a few things into a satchel, and took the next train for theEast. He traveled a night and a day, and the next afternoon he foundhimself hurrying up Concord Street to College Hill.

  Certainly there was no time to lose.

  "All gone away to New York this morning," said the servant at ProfessorLee's house, when Parmenter rang the bell. "They've started for Europe!"

  Parmenter was almost speechless with dismay; but he had enough presenceof mind to ascertain that they were not to sail until the next morning,and that they were to go on the steamship _City of Paris_.

  Away he went to the railroad station, just in time to swing himselfupon the train for New York. At Albany he went into a sleeping-car, butdid not have his berth made up. He knew he could not sleep. His wholebeing had turned toward the accomplishment of one object--to find thetwo men he had so deeply wronged, and beg their forgiveness.

  At five o'clock in the morning the train rolled into the Grand CentralStation in New York City. Parmenter rushed out hotly and hailed a cab.

  "Drive me to the Inman pier!" he called to the cabman. "Don't waste asecond. There's money in it for you."

  The vehicle rattled swiftly over rough places and smooth. Parmenterfretted nervously within.

  At last the cab pulled up at the entrance to a pier. Parmenter leapedout, handed the cabman a sum of money that surprised and delighted him,and plunged at once into the shadows of the long buildings. He hurrieddown, between rows of bales and boxes, toward the landing-place.

  Some people were coming leisurely up; a family group stood not faraway, the persons in it weeping quietly; the edge of the pier was linedwith men and women, and at the farther corner of it were many who werewaving handkerchiefs.

  An officer with a gold band around his cap stood looking out upon thewater.

  "Where is the _City of Paris_?" inquired Parmenter of him.

  "There she is," replied the officer, pointing to a majestic steamer inmidstream, gay with flying colors, and heading down the river.

  "Has she gone?" gasped Parmenter.

  "It looks as if she had," replied the officer, smiling.

  In sudden weakness and despair Parmenter staggered to an empty truck,sat down on it, and buried his face in his hands.