by F. W. Farrar
CHAPTER NINE.
PENITENCE.
"If hearty sorrow Be a sufficient ransom for offence, I tender it here; I do as truly suffer As e'er I did commit."
Two Gentlemen of Verona.--Act five, scene 4.
Next morning Walter was reconducted to the private room, and there, witha kind of dull pain in head and heart, awaited the sentence which was todecide his fate. His fancy had left Saint Winifred's altogether; it wassolely occupied with Semlyn, and the dear society at home. Walter wasrehearsing again and again in his mind the scene of his return; what heshould say to his father; how he should dry his mother's tears; and howhe should bear himself, on his return, towards his little brothers andsisters. Would he, expelled from Saint Winifred's, ever be able to lookanyone in the face again at home?
While he was brooding over these fancies, someone, breathless withhaste, ran up to his room, and again a note was thrust underneath thedoor. He seized it quickly, and read--
"Dear Walter,--I am so glad to be the first to tell you that you are not to be expelled. Paton has begged you off. No time for more. I have slipped away before morning school to leave you this news, and can't stay lest I should be caught. Good-bye, from your ever affectionate friend,
"H.K."
The boy's heart gave one bound of joy as he read this. If he were notexpelled he was ready to bear meekly any other punishment appointed tohis offence. But his banishment from the school would cause deepaffliction to others besides himself, and this was why he had dreaded itwith such a feeling of despair.
Alone as he was in the little room, he fell on his knees, and heartilyand humbly thanked God for this answer to his earnest, passionate,reiterated prayer; and then he read Kenrick's note again.
"Paton has begged you off." He repeated this sentence over and overagain, aloud and to himself, and seemed as if he could never realise it.Paton--Paton, the very man whom he had so deeply and irreparablyinjured--had begged him off, and shielded him from a punishment which noone could have considered too severe for his fault. Young andinexperienced as Walter Evson was, he could not, of course, fullyunderstand and appreciate the _amount_ of the loss, the nature anddegree of the injury which he had inflicted; but yet, he _could_understand that he had done something which caused greater pain to hismaster than even the breaking of a limb, or falling ill of a severesickness. And he never prayed for himself without praying also that MrPaton's misfortune might in some way be alleviated; and even, impossibleas the prayer might seem, that he, Walter, might himself have some sharein rendering it more endurable.
It may seem strange that Walter should be apparently excessive in hisown self-condemnation. A generous mind usually is; but Walter, it maybe urged, never intended to do the harm he had done. If he mistook thepacket for a number of exercises the fault was comparatively venial,comparatively--yes; for though it will be admitted that to break open aprivate desk and throw its contents into the fire is bad enough in aschoolboy under any circumstances, still it would be a far lessaggravated sin than the wilful infliction of a heavy damage out of aspirit of revenge. But here lay the gravamen of Walter's fault; heknew--though he had not said so--in his inmost heart he _knew_ that thepacket did not, and could not, consist merely of old exercises, like theouter sheets, which were put to keep it clean. When he threw it intothe fire and thrust it down until it blazed away, he felt sure--and atthat wicked moment of indulged passion he rejoiced to feel sure--thatwhat he was consuming was of real value. Henderson's voice awoke in amoment his dormant conscience; but then, however keen were the stings ofremorse, what had been done could never be undone. And "Paton hadbegged him off"! It was all the more wonderful to him, and he was allthe more deeply grateful for it, because he knew that, in Mr Paton'sviews, the law of punishment for every offence was as a law of iron andadamant--a law as undeviating and beneficial as the law of gravitationitself.
A slow and hesitating footstep--the sound of the key turning in thedoor--a nervous hand resting on the handle--and Mr Paton stood beforehim.
In an instant Walter was on his knees beside him, his head bent over hisclasped hands. "Oh, sir," he exclaimed, "please forgive me! I havebeen longing to see you, sir, to implore you to forgive me; for when youhave forgiven me I shan't mind anything else. Oh, sir, forgive me, ifyou can."
"Do you know, Evson, the extent of what you have done?" said Mr Paton,in a constrained voice.
"Oh, sir, indeed I do," he exclaimed, bursting into tears. "MrPercival said I had destroyed years and years of hard work, and that Ican never, never, never make up for it, or repair it again. Oh, sir,indeed I didn't know how much mischief I was doing; I was in a wickedpassion then, but I would give my right-hand not to have done it now.Oh, sir, can you ever forgive me?" he asked, in a tone of pitiabledespair.
"Have you asked God's forgiveness for your passionate and revengefulspirit, Evson?" said the same constrained voice.
"Oh, sir, I have, and I know God has forgiven me. Indeed I never knew,I never thought before, that I could grow so wicked in a day. Oh, sir,what shall I do to gain your forgiveness; I would do anything, sir," hesaid, in a voice thick with sobs; "and if you forgave me, I could bealmost happy."
All this while Walter had not dared to look up in Mr Paton's face.Abashed as he was, he could not bear to meet the only look which heexpected to find there, the old cold unpitying look of condemnation andreproach. Even at that moment he could not help thinking that if MrPaton had understood him better, he would not have seemed to him soutterly bad as then he must seem, with so recent an act of sin and follyto bear witness against him.
He dared not look up through his eyes swimming with tears; but he hadnot expected the kind and gentle touch of the trembling hand that restedon his head as though it blessed him, and that smoothed again and againhis dark hair, and wiped the big drops away from his cheeks. He had notexpected the arm that raised him up from his kneeling position, and thefingers that pushed back his hair from his forehead, and gently bentback his head; or the pitying eyes, themselves dim, as though they wereabout to well over with compassion--that looked so sorrowfully, yet sokindly, into his own. He could not bear this. If Mr Paton had struckhim, as he did in the first moment of overwhelming anger; if he hadspurned him away, and ordered him any amount of punishment, it wouldhave been far easier to bear than this Christian gentleness; this readyburying in pity and oblivion of the heaviest and most undeservedcalamity which the master had ever undergone at the hands of man.Walter could not bear it; he flung himself on his knees again in apassion of weeping, and clasped Mr Paton's knees, uttering in brokensentences, "I can never make up for it, never repair it as long as Ilive."
For a moment more the kind hand again rested on the boy's head, andgently smoothed his dark hair; and then Mr Paton found voice to speak,and lifting him up, and seating him upon his knee, said to him--
"I forgive you, Walter, forgive you freely and gladly. It was hard, Iown, at first to do so, for I will not disguise from you that this lossis a very bitter thing to bear. I have been sleepless, and have neveronce been able to banish the distress of mind which it has caused sinceit occurred. And yet it is a loss which I shall _not_ feel fully all atonce, but most and for many a long day when I sit down again, if Godgives me strength to do so, to recover the lost stores and rearrange theinterrupted thoughts. But I, too, have learnt a lesson, Walter; andwhen you have reached my age, my boy, you too, I trust, will have learntto control all evil passions with a strong will, and to bear meekly andpatiently _whatever_ God sends. And you too, Walter, learn a lesson.You have said that you would give anything, do anything, to undo thiswrong, or to repair it; but you can do nothing, my child, give nothing,for it cannot be undone. Wrong rarely can be mended. Let this veryhelplessness teach you a truth that may remain with you through life.Let it check you in wilful impetuous moments; for what has once beendone remains irrevocable. You may rue for years and years the work ofdays or of moments, and you may _never_ be able to avoid the
consequences, even when the deed itself has been forgotten by thegenerous and forgiven by the just." And all this so kindly, so gently,so quietly spoken; every word of it sank into Walter's heart never to beforgotten, as his tears flowed still but with more quiet sadness now.
"Yes, Walter, this occurrence," continued Mr Paton in a calm, lowvoice, "may do us both good, miserable as it is. I will say no moreabout it now, only that I have quite forgiven it. Man is far too mean acreature to be justified in withholding forgiveness for any personalwrong. It is far more hard to forgive one's-self when one has donewrong. I have determined to bury the whole matter in oblivion, and toinflict no punishment either on you or on any of the other boys who wereconcerned in this folly and sin. I will not forgive by halves. But,Walter, I will not wrong you by doubting that from this time forward youwill advance with a marked improvement. You will have something tobear, no doubt, but do not let it weigh on you too heavily; and as forme, I will try henceforth to be your friend."
What could Walter do but seize his hand and clasp it earnestly, and sobout the broken incoherent thanks which were more eloquent than connectedwords.
"And now, Walter, you are free," said Mr Paton. "From _us_ you willhear no more of this offence. It is nearly dinner-time. Come; I willwalk with you to hall."
He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, and they walked downstairs andacross the court. Walter was deeply grateful that he did so, for he hadheard rumours of the scorn and indignation with which the news of hisconduct had been received by the elder and more influential portions ofthe school. He had dreaded unspeakably the first occasion when it wouldbe necessary to meet them again, but he felt that Mr Paton'scountenance and kindness had paved the way for him, and smoothed hismost formidable trial. It had been beyond his warmest hopes that heshould be able to face them so. He had never dared to expect this openproof, that the person who had suffered chiefly from this act would alsobe the first to show that he had not cast him off as helpless orworthless, but was ready to receive him into favour once again.
The corridor was full of boys waiting for the dinner bell, and theydivided respectfully to leave a passage for Mr Paton, and touched theirhats as he passed them with his hand still on Walter's shoulder, whileWalter walked with downcast eyes beside him, not once daring to look up.And as the boy passed them, humbled and penitent, with Mr Paton's handresting upon him, there was not one of those who saw it that did notlearn from that sight a lesson of calm forgiveness as noble and asforcible as any lesson which they could learn at Saint Winifred'sSchool.
Walter sat at dinner pale and crying, but unpitied. "Alas for therarity of Christian charity under the sun!"--the worst construction hadassiduously been put upon what he had done, and nearly all the boyshastily condemned it, not only as an ungentlemanly, but also as aninexcusable and unpardonable act. One after another, as they passed himafter dinner, they cut him dead. Several of the masters, including MrPercival, whom Walter had hitherto loved and respected more than any ofthem, because he had been treated by him with marked kindness, did thesame. Walter met Mr Percival in the playground and touched his cap;Mr Percival glanced at him contemptuously for a moment, and then turnedhis head aside without noticing the salute. It may seem strange, but wemust remember that to all who hear of any wrong act by report only, itpresents itself as a mere naked fact--a bare result without preface orpalliation. The subtle grades of temptation which led to it--theviolent outburst of passion long pent-up which thus found itsconsummation--are unknown or forgotten, and the deed itself, isolatedfrom all that rendered it possible, receives unmitigated condemnation.All that anyone took the trouble to know or to believe about Walter'sscrape was, that he had broken open a master's private desk, and inrevenge had purposely burnt a most valuable manuscript; and for this,sentence was passed upon him broadly and in the gross.
Poor Walter! those were dark days for him; but Henderson and Kenrickstuck fast by him, and little Arthur Eden still looked up to him withunbounded gratitude and affection, and he felt that the case was nothopeless. Kenrick, indeed, seemed to waver once or twice. He soughtWalter and shook hands with him at once, but still he was not with him,Walter fancied, so much as he had been or might have been, till, after ashort struggle, his natural impulse of generosity won the day. As forHenderson, Walter thought he could have died for him, so much he lovedhim for his kindness in this hour of need; and Eden never left his sidewhen he could creep there to console him by merry playfulness, or to behis companion when he would otherwise have been alone.
The boys had been truly sorry to hear of Mr Paton's loss; it roused alltheir most generous feelings. That evening as they came out of chapelthey all gathered round the iron gates. The intention had been to groanat poor Walter. He knew of it perfectly well, for Henderson hadprepared him for it, and expressed his determination to walk by hisside. It was for him a moment of keen anguish, and that anguishbetrayed itself in his scared and agitated look. But he was spared thislast drop in the cup of punishment. The mere sight of him showed theboys that he had suffered bitterly enough already. When they looked athim they had not the heart to hurt and shame him any more. Mr Paton'sopen forgiveness of that which had fallen most severely on himselfchanged the current of their feelings. Instead of groaning Walter theylet him pass by, and waited till Mr Paton came out of the chapel door,and as he walked across the court the boys all followed him with heartycheers.
Mr Paton did not like the demonstration, although he appreciated thekindly and honourable motives which had given rise to it. He was not aman who courted popularity, and this external sign of it was, as he wellknew, the irregular expression of an evanescent feeling. So he took nofurther notice of the boys' cheers than by slightly raising his cap, andby one stately inclination of the head, and then he walked on with hisusual quiet dignity of manner to his own rooms. But after this he everynow and then took an opportunity to walk with Walter; and almost everySunday evening he might have been seen with him pacing, after morningchapel, up and down the broad walk of the masters' garden, while Walterwalked unevenly beside him, in vain endeavours to keep step with hislong slow stride.
A letter from Dr Lane brought Walter's father to Saint Winifred's thenext day. Why dwell on their sad and painful meeting? But the pain ofit soon wore off as they interchanged that sweet and frank communion ofthoughts and sympathies that still existed as it had ever done betweenthem. They had a long, long walk upon the shore, and at every stepWalter seemed to in-breathe fresh strength, and hope, and consolation,and Mr Evson seemed to acquire new love for, and confidence in, hisunhappy little son, so that when in the evening he kissed him and said"good-bye," at the top of the same hill where they had parted before,Mr Evson felt more happily and gratefully secure of his radicalintegrity, now that the boy had acquired the strength which comesthrough trial, through failure, and through suffering, than he had donebefore when he had left him only with the strength of early principleand untested innocence of heart.
But long years after, when Walter was a man, and when he had beenseparated for years from all intelligence of Mr Paton, there emanatedfrom a quiet country vicarage a now celebrated edition of the "MajorProphets," an edition which made the author a high reputation, andsecured for him in the following year the Deanery of --. And in thepreface to that edition the reader may still find the following passage,which, as Walter saw even then, those long years after, he could notread without a thrill of happy, yet penitent emotion. It ran thus--
"This edition of the `Major Prophets' has been the chosen work of the author's leisure, and he is almost afraid to say how many of the best years of his life have been spent upon it. A strange fortune has happened to it. Years ago it was finished, and it was written out, and ready for the press. At that time it was burnt--no matter under what circumstances--by a boy's hand. At first, the author never hoped to have the courage or power to resume and finish the task again. But it pleased God, Who sent him this trial, to provide him also with leisure, and opp
ortunity, and resolution, so that the old misfortune is now at last repaired. It is for the sake of one person, and one person only, that these private matters are intruded on the reader's notice; but that person, if his eye should ever fall on these lines, will know also why the word `repaired' has been printed in larger letters. And I would also tell him with all kindness, that it has pleased God to bring out of the rash act of his boyhood nothing but good. The following commentary is, I humbly trust, far more worthy of its high subject, now that it has received the maturer consideration of my advancing years, than it would have been had it seen the light at Saint Winifred's long ago. I write this for the sake of the boy who then wept for what seemed an _irreparable_ fault; and I add thankfully, that never for a moment have I retracted my then forgiveness; that I think of his after efforts with kindliness and affection; and that he has, and always will have, my best prayers for his interest and welfare.
"H. Paton."