Burr Junior

Home > Nonfiction > Burr Junior > Page 28
Burr Junior Page 28

by George Manville Fenn


  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

  Human nature is a curious thing, and the older one grows the morestrange and wonderful it seems. There was I watching Tom Mercer fromthe window, and the minute before I felt as if I would have givenanything to have him there alone with our jackets off, to put in forcethe old sergeant's teaching, knowing that I could in my passion nearlyknock his head off. The next minute, as I saw him walk dejectedly awaywith his head down, evidently bitterly hurt and disappointed, I foundmyself sorry for him, and wanting to call him back.

  And this was from no desire to partake of the good things he had, I wasperfectly sure, in the bag, for in my misery I had no appetite or desireto eat anything, but from honest liking for the boy who had been mycompanion from the first.

  But I was too proud to call him back, and in my anger I mentally calledhim a contemptible, cowardly thief, and vowed that I would never speakto him again.

  Boys always keep those vows, of course--for an hour or two, and thenbreak them, and a good thing too. They would be horrible youngmisanthropes if they did not.

  So Tom Mercer was gone, with his bagful, string, and indiarubber ball,and I plumped myself down on a chair by the window, rested my crossedarms on the inner ledge, and, placing my chin upon them, sat staring outover the beautiful Sussex landscape, thinking about what was to come.

  But, mingled with those thoughts, there came plenty of memories of thepast; as my eyes lit on the woods and fields, with a glint of one of theGeneral's ponds where we boys had fished.

  Oh, how lovely it all looked that sunny morning, with the rays flashingfrom the dewy grass and leaves, and how impossible it seemed that Icould be so unhappy, shut up there like a prisoner, and looked upon byevery one as a thief!

  What should I do? Wait for the truth to come out, or behave like anyhigh-spirited boy would,--high-spirited and gallant from my point ofview,--set them all at defiance, wait for my opportunity, and escape--goright away and seek my fortune?

  No, I did not want any fortune. My uncle wished me to be a soldier, asmy father had been, and that meant study for years, then trainingperhaps at Woolwich, and at last a commission.

  "I will not wait for that," I said to myself; "I'll be a soldier atonce. I'll go and enlist, and rise from the ranks, and in years tocome, when I am a captain or a major, I will go back home, and tell themthat I was perfectly innocent, and they'll be sorry they believed that Iwas a thief."

  These romantic thoughts put me in better spirits, and I began to planwhat I would do, and how I could get away, for I could not see in myexcitement what a young donkey I was to fill my head with such nonsense,and what a mean, cowardly thing it would be to go off, and make mysupposed guilt a certainty with my uncle, break my mother's heart, andgenerally throw all my future to the winds--always supposing it possiblethat I could have found any recruiting sergeant who would have takensuch a slip of a boy, as, of course, I could not; for to a certainty Ishould have been laughed at, and come away like a frightened cur, withmy tail between my legs.

  I was mentally blind then, puffed up with vanity, and as bitter andangry as it is possible for a boy to be, and all I can say inextenuation is that I had had good cause to be upset by the trouble Ihad gone through.

  "I'll go," I said excitedly. "To-night as soon as it is dark, and--"

  I stopped short, for I saw a familiar figure going along the road infront of the great house. It was Lomax, having his morning pipe andwalk before going back to his garden, and the sight of the old sergeantmade me feel sorry for my determination. He had been so friendly, andunder his stiff military ways there had been so much kindliness. He hadbeen so proud of the way in which I had acquired the things he taught;and as he went on, tall, upright, and manly-looking, I began to wonderwhat he would say, and I exclaimed eagerly,--

  "He'll know that I have gone off to join the army, and say I have donewell."

  Down came a wet blanket.

  "No," I said dolefully; "he will think I have run away because I was athief."

  "I can't go. It is impossible for me to go," I said passionately, as Ibegan to pace the room, and sheets torn up and tied together withcounterpane and blankets, to make out the rope down which I was to slideto liberty, fell away as if they were so much tinder; while the otherplan I had of unscrewing the lock of the door, and taking it off with mypocket-knife, so as to steal down the stairs, tumbled to nothing, assoon as I thought that I must steal away.

  Just then I started, for there was a tap at the door--a very soft,gentle tap, and then a hoarse whisper.

  "Master Burr! Master Burr!"

  "Yes," I said sourly. "Who is it? What do you want?"

  "It's me, my dear. Cook. I'm just going down. Are you dressed yet?"

  "Yes."

  "I heard last night that you were shut up. Whatever is the matter?"

  I was silent.

  "Master Mercer came and told me, and asked me for something to eat foryou, because he said he knew they'd only give you bread and water."

  "Master Mercer!" I muttered to myself angrily; "and I'm to suffer forhim!"

  "There, I won't bother you, my dear, but I'm very sorry, and I don'tsuppose it's anything much. Have you broken a window?"

  "No, Cook."

  "Now don't say you've been stealing apples, because I'd have given youlots if you'd asked."

  "No," I said softly, for the woman's voice sounded so pleasant andsympathetic that I wanted her to stay.

  "Then I know: you've been breaking bounds. Oh dear, boys will be boys,and it's quite natural, my dear, for you to want to get away, and runwhere you like. I don't wonder, shut up as you all are, like being in acage. There, don't you fret, and it'll all come right. I'll see thatyou have something beside bread and water. Bread and water, indeed!Such stuff as is only to cook with. Why, they might just as well feedyou on flour."

  "What time is it, Cook?" I asked.

  "Just gone six, my dear; and there: I mustn't stop gossiping, for I'vemy fire to light, my kitchen to do; but I hate people to be miserable.I can't abide it. There's plenty of worries with one's work, as I toldmissus only yesterday. There, good-bye, and don't you fret."

  I heard the rustling of her dress as she went along the passage, and Istood by the door till it died away, feeling sad but pleased, for it wassatisfactory to know that there were people about the place who caredfor me. But I felt more low-spirited directly as I thought of what shemight say as soon as she knew the real cause of why I was a prisoner.

  The bell rang for rising, and I heard some of the boys soon after out intheir gardens; then, as I stood back from the window, I caught sight ofone or two, and after a while heard the increasing hum and buzz ofvoices, and knew that some of them must be getting up lessons that hadbeen neglected over-night. And as I listened, I thought of the timeswhen I had murmured and felt dissatisfied at being obliged to give somuch time to such work, whereas now I was envying the happy boys whowere seated at study, with no greater care upon their minds.

  Perhaps I was learning a great lesson then, one that I did not know.

  The time went on very slowly, and it seemed many hours since I awoke,when the breakfast-bell rang, and I sat picturing the scene, andfancying I could hear the boys talking and the mugs and spoonsclattering, as the great piles of bread and butter disappeared.

  I was just thinking this when there were steps in the passage, and soonafter the key was rattled in the lock, Mr Rebble appeared, and with himone of the maids, with a tray on which was a mug and a plate of breadand butter.

  He did not look at me, only admitted the maid to set down the tray, sawher out, and I was locked in again.

  It was very much like the old time, but Tom Mercer was not there tolighten my loneliness.

  As the door closed, I noticed that the mug was steaming, and found thatI was not to have prison fare though I was a prisoner, for my breakfastwas precisely the same as that of the other boys.

  "I can't touch it," I said, "It is impossible to eat."


  But I was feverishly thirsty, and I took up the mug of milk, just madewarm by the addition of some boiling water. It was pleasantly sweet,too, and I half fancied that Cook had put in an extra quantity of sugar.

  More from habit than anything else, for I felt sick and full of distastefor food, I broke off a piece of bread and butter and began to eat itmechanically, and now knew that I was right, for, instead of the saltbutter we generally had, this was fresh and sweet. Cook had certainlybeen favouring me, and that scrap led to the finishing of the slice, andfinally to the disappearance of all that was on the plate, while thelast drop of milk and water was drained from the big mug.

  As soon as the breakfast was finished, a morbid feeling of vexation cameover me. I was angry because I had touched it, and wished that I hadsulked, and shown myself too much injured to go on as if nothing hadhappened. But it was too late then.

  After a while, Mr Rebble came back, looking very severe. He watchedthe maid as she took the tray, but the girl gave me a sympathetic look,and then I was once more left alone.

  Hard people think they do not,--they say, "Oh, he's only a boy; he'llsoon forget,"--but boys suffer mentally as keenly, or more keenly, thangrown people. Of course they do, for everything about them is young,tender, and easily wounded. I know that they soon recover from somemental injury. Naturally. They are young and elastic, and the sapling,if bent down, springs up again, but for the time they suffer cruelly.

  I know I did, shut up there in disgrace, and, as I sat or walked aboutmy prison, it made no difference to me that it was a plainly furnished,neat bedroom, for it was as prison-like to me in my vein as if the floorhad been stone, the door of iron-clamped oak with rusty hinges. And asI moved about the place, I began to understand how prisoners gladly madefriends with spiders, mice, and rats, or employed themselves cuttingtheir names on the walls, carving pieces of wood, or writing longhistories.

  But I had no insects or animals to amuse me, no wood to carve, no stonewalls upon which to chisel my name.

  I had only been a prisoner for a few hours, you may say.

  Quite true, but, oh, what hours they were, and what agony I sufferedfrom my thoughts!

  I spent most of my time at the window, forcing myself to think of howthings were going on in school, and I pictured the boys at theirlessons--at the Doctor's desk at Mr Rebble's, and Mr Hasnip's. It wasGerman day, too, and I thought about our quaint foreign master, andabout Lomax drilling the boys in the afternoon. He would be asking themwhere I was; and the question arose in my mind, would the boys tell him,or would they have had orders, as we did once before, about a year back,when a pupil disgraced himself, not to mention the affair outside theschool walls.

  My spirits rose a little at this, for it would be horrible for Lomax toknow, and go and think it over. And I seemed to know that he would takeit more to heart about me than if it were any other boy, for I was to bea soldier, and, as he would have expressed it, "One of ours."

  Dinner-time at last--the bell ringing, and the shouts and cries of theboys, "All in! all in!" though we used to want very little calling formeals.

  After a time, my dinner was brought up, as my breakfast had been, insilence, and I felt then that I should have liked Mr Rebble to speak,if it had only been to bully. But he did not so much as look at me,only stalked into the room and out again.

  Who was going to eat and enjoy a dinner, brought like that?

  "It's like an animal in a cage being fed," I said angrily; and I wasquite angry because the roast beef, potatoes, and greens smelt so nicethat I was obliged to sit down and eat and enjoy the meal, for I wasvery hungry.

  After the tray had been fetched, I made up my mind that at any minutenow the Doctor might send for me, to give me a severe examination, and Ishivered at the idea of being forced to speak out, and say everything Iknew. I wished now that it was dark, so that I might have attempted toescape, if only to avoid that meeting. But it was impossible. Even ifI could get off the lock, I should be seen, for certain, and broughtback in an ignominious fashion, that would be terrible.

  But the afternoon wore away, as I sat listening to the shouts of theboys at play, thinking bitterly of how little they thought of me shut upthere; and I began wondering where Mercer was, little thinking that hewas watching me; but he was, sure enough, for, just close upon tea-time,I caught sight of him, lying down upon his chest, where he had crawledunseen among the shrubs, and there he was, with his elbows on the groundand his chin in his hands, watching me, just as a faithful dog might hismaster.

  I shrank away from the window, as soon as I saw him, and then waitedtill the bell rang for tea, when I peeped out again, to see that he wasgone, but I could trace him by the movement of the laurels, bays, andlilacs, whose branches were thrust aside as he crept through.

  "He'll come back again after tea," I thought, and I was right. I hadonly just finished my own, brought up as before, when, glancing from thewindow, there I saw him, gazing up at me like a whipped dog, asking tobe taken into favour once again.

  "Why hasn't the Doctor sent for me?" I asked myself; but I could findonly one reason,--he meant me to come to his study quite late in theevening.

  But he did not, and that dreary time passed slowly away, as I watchedthe darkness come on, and the stars peer out one by one. Then I saw themoon rise far away over the sea, shining brightly, till the sky grewcloudy, as my life seemed now to be.

  But no footstep--no summons to go down to the Doctor's room, and, thoughI kept on fancying that I heard steps on the stairs, I was alwaysdeceived, and it was not until I heard the bell ring for prayers andbed, that I knew I should not have to meet the Doctor that night.

  There were steps enough now in the corridors and on the stairs, and Isat near the door, for the sake of the company, naming the boys tomyself, as I recognised the voices. But I shrank away once, as two boysstopped by my door, and I heard them say,--

  "Wonder how old Burr junior's getting on?"

  "Ah! he's in for it now. Don't talk, or he'll hear us."

  They passed on, and I heard their door close, after which there was aloud scuffling and bumping from the other sides accompanied by smotheredlaughter and dull blows.

  I knew directly what was going on, and sighed, as I recalled how manytimes I had engaged in the forbidden joys of a bolstering match.

  Their merriment only made me feel the pain the more bitterly, and I wasglad when I heard a familiar cough at the end of the passage, and thetapping of a stick on the floor.

  All was silent in an instant, and by degrees every murmur died away, andI lay down and slept heavily, for mine was weary trouble. There was noguilty conscience to keep me awake.

 

‹ Prev