It did not add to Jonah's happiness to see the looks of evident disgust
with which the first class greeted his reappearance in the schoolroom.
Their pleasant experience yesterday had demoralised them, and they
settled down listlessly at Jonah's bidding like voyagers who, after a
day in still waters, put out once more to the rough sea. Teddy
especially felt the hardships of the mighty deep. Jonah's eye
transfixed him all day. If he spoke, if he fidgeted, if he looked
about, the hand of the tyrant swooped down upon him.
He spent the greater part of the day standing on the form. The contents
of his pockets (including some priceless marbles) were impounded; he had
two columns of dates to commit to memory before he could go home; and,
hardest of all, because of a little blot, he was reduced to the
ineffable humiliation of writing all his exercises on a slate!
It took all the big heart of the little fellow to bear up against this
mountain of calamity, and had it not been for an occasional glimpse of
Jeffreys' face, turned sympathetically in his direction, his courage
might have failed him.
School closed, and still his dates were unlearnt. His legs ached with
standing hour after hour on the narrow form, and his head, lifted three
feet higher than usual into the heated atmosphere of the room, swam
ominously.
Freddy, after waiting about dismally for half an hour, had gone home
alone. The voices of boys remaining to play or talk in the yard outside
had one after another ceased. Jeffreys had long since taken himself and
his books elsewhere, and only Jonah was left to keep watch over his
prisoner.
The boy made a tremendous effort to master the dates, but they went
through him like water through a sieve. He could not even keep his eyes
on the book, and when he turned them towards the master's desk, Jonah
seemed to be half hidden in mist. He edged cautiously to the end of the
form nearest the wall, where at least he might get a little support. It
was a perilous voyage, for he was two feet away, and scarcely dare move
at a greater rate than an inch a minute. He got there at last, nearly
done up, and with a sigh of relief leaned his head against the cold
plaster.
"Rosher, stand at the other end of the form immediately, and learn
twenty more dates for being idle."
Alas poor Teddy! He had held out long, and braved much. But his heart
quailed now. He seemed glued to the wall, and the form all of a sudden
seemed to contract into a tight-rope over a chasm.
"I'm so tired, sir, I--"
"Silence, sir! and do what you're told," thundered Jonah.
Teddy staggered forward half a step, but shrank back before he had
finished it to the friendly wall.
Trimble rose from his seat.
"Do you hear me?" he shouted furiously. "Stand where I tell you."
"Please, sir, I can't. I--"
Here Trimble advanced towards him, and Teddy, fairly unnerved and almost
fainting, slipped down from the bench and burst into tears.
"That's it, is it?" said Jonah; "we'll see whether you can or--"
At that instant the door opened, and Jeffreys entered the room.
It did not require the boy's sobbing appeal, "Oh, Jeff, Jeff!" to enable
him to take in the situation at a glance. Nor did it need a second
glance at the face of the intruder to induce Jonah to turn pale.
Jeffreys advanced without a word to the form, brushing Jonah out of his
way with a swing that sent him staggering six paces down the floor, and
putting his arm round Teddy, led him without a word from the room.
"Come along, little chap," said he, when they got outside; "come home."
The sound of his voice revived Teddy like a cordial.
"Do you hate me for blubbering?" he asked anxiously; "wasn't it like a
baby?"
"How long had you been up there?" asked Jeffreys.
"It was half-past one when he stood me up. I had only just been looking
round to see where Freddy was; and oh, Jeff, I've got to write on a
slate just because of a little blot. What's the time now?"
"Half-past five," said Jeffreys, putting on his hat, and swinging
Teddy's satchel over his own arm.
"Are you coming with me Jeff?" asked the boy eagerly.
"Of course you couldn't get home alone."
Great was the content of the little fellow as he left Galloway House
with his hand on the strong arm of his tutor. Greater still were his
surprise and content when, as soon as the streets were past, Jeffreys
took him up on his back and carried him the rest of the way to Ash
Cottage.
"Thanks, awfully, old Jeff," said the boy, as they parted at the gate of
the cottage. "What makes you so kind to Freddy and me?"
"I'm not good at riddles, Teddy. Good-night," and he went.
Jonah, as he was not surprised to find, was expecting him, in a state of
high ferment. Jeffreys would fain have avoided an interview. For he
was constantly discovering that he was still far from sure of himself.
That afternoon his passion had been within an ace of mastering him; and
at any time he dreaded something might happen which would undo all the
penance of those last six months. He therefore resolved wisely in the
present instance to avoid altercation as far as possible.
"Well, sir, and what have you got to say for yourself? Where have you
been?" demanded Jonah, in tones of lofty bitterness.
"I have just taken Rosher home. After standing four hours on the form
he wasn't fit to walk himself."
"Oh!" snorted Jonah, nearly bursting with indignation; "and pray how--"
"Excuse me, Trimble. If you and Mrs Trimble wish me to leave, I'll do
so. If not, don't talk to me. I don't want it."
Poor Jonah nearly had a fit. He, head man of Galloway House, knowing
what he did, to be spoken to like this by a stuck-up--murderer!
He had prepared a scene, and had counted on coming to an understanding
then and there. And lo and behold! before he had well opened his mouth,
he had been ordered to shut it by the very being whom he had at his
mercy. It passed Jonah's comprehension.
Jeffreys waited a minute to give him a chance of accepting his former
alternative. Then, concluding he had decided on the latter, he betook
himself to his own room and remained there.
Jonah, as soon as he could recover himself sufficiently to think at all,
made up his mind that, come what would, he had had enough of this sort
of life. With which conviction he crushed his hat on his head, and
sallied forth into the open air.
His feet almost instinctively turned in the direction of Ash Lane; but
on this occasion they went past the fatal bank and brought their owner
to a halt at the door of Ash Cottage.
"Is Mr Rosher at home?" inquired he of the servant.
Mr Rosher was at home--a jovial, well-to-do farmer, with a hearty
Yorkshire voice and a good-humoured grin on his broad face.
"Well, lad, what is't?" he asked, as Trimble, hat in hand, was shown
into the little parlour. "Man, it's the little school-maister."
"Yes, Mr Rosher," said Trimble; "I should like five minutes' talk with
you if you can spare the time."
"Blaze away, lad. A've nothin' else to do."
"I'm rather anxious about your two dear little boys," began Trimble.
"Thee needn't be that; they're tight lads, and learn quite fast enough."
"It's not that, Mr Rosher, though I hope they do justice to the pains
we take with them."
"They nearly killed their mother t'other day on the tricycle," said Mr
Rosher, laughing like a young bull. "Was't thee or t'other young chap
came to mend t'auld bone-shaker? Twas a kindly turn to the little
fellows, and I'm sorry thee didn't stay to tea, lad."
"We always like to try to make them happy," said Jonah. "Indeed, that
is what I came to see you about. I'm sorry to say--"
"Thee's come to tell me why Teddy was blubbering when he got home.
Thee'd better tell that to his mother," said the father.
"I'm so sorry to say," pursued Jonah, beginning to wish he was over his
task, "my assistant-master is disappointing me. I took him on half in
charity six months ago, but lately he has been having a bad influence in
the school, and I thought it, my duty--"
"Tut, tut! The lads have been cheerier this last six months than ever
before--"
"Of course we try all we can to make them happy, and shield them from
harm," pursued Trimble, "and I am glad you think we have made school
happy for them--"
"And is that all thee's come to say?" said the bewildered parent.
"No, sir. Of course in school I can look after the boys and see they
come to no harm; but after school hours of course they are out of my
control, and then it is I'm afraid of their coming to mischief. My
assistant, I hear, has been in the habit of walking home with them, and
from what I know of him he is not a desirable companion for them, and I
think it is my duty to put you on your guard, Mr Rosher. They should
not be encouraged to see too much of him out of doors or bring him to
the house."
"It bothers me why you keep the man if he's that sort!" said Mr Rosher.
"What's wrong with him?"
"I'm afraid he's a bad character. I have only discovered it lately, and
intend to dismiss him as soon as I get a new assistant."
"What dost mean by a bad character? Is he a thief?"
Trimble looked very grave.
"I wish it was no worse than that."
The farmer's jaw dropped.
"What?" said he. "Dost mean to tell me the man's a murderer?"
Jonah looked terribly shocked.
"It's a dreadful thing to suspect any one," said he, "but it would not
be right of me to let things go on without warning you. I shall keep
your boys under my own eyes all school-time; and I advise you--"
"I don't want thy advice. Take thyself off!"
Jonah saw that to prolong the interview would only make matters worse.
The good father was evidently roused; but whether against him, Jonah, or
against Jeffreys, he could scarcely tell. He departed decidedly
crestfallen, and more than half repenting of his amiable expedition.
His misgivings were somewhat relieved next morning when Freddy and Teddy
put in an appearance punctually at school-time. Jonah considered it
expedient under the circumstances not to refer to Teddy's mutinous
conduct on the preceding day--a determination which afforded great
comfort to that young gentleman and which he put down by a mysterious
process of reasoning to Jeffreys' good offices on his behalf.
Jonah, however, on this particular morning felt far from comfortable.
It may have been the hot sultry day, or it may have been the general
oppression of his own feelings, which gave him a sense of something--
probably a thunderstorm impending. His class remarked that he was less
exacting than usual, and even Jeffreys became aware that his colleague
for once in a way was not himself.
The clock had just struck twelve, and the boys were beginning to look
forward to their usual break in half an hour's time, when the schoolroom
door suddenly opened, and disclosed the broad figure of Mr Rosher,
followed at a timid distance by Mrs Trimble.
Jonah's face turned pale; Freddy and Teddy opened their eyes to their
widest. Jeffreys, on hearing Freddy mutter "Father," looked round
curiously, to get a view of the father of his little friends.
Mr Rosher recognised Trimble with a nod.
"I've coom, you see, lad. I want to have a look at this murderer fellow
thee was talking about. Where is he?"
It was a thunderclap with a vengeance! Only two persons in the room
guessed all it meant.
"Coom, trot him out, man," repeated the farmer, noticing the hesitation
in Jonah's scared face. "Is that the chap yonder thee was telling me
of?" added he, pointing to Jeffreys.
It was all up with Galloway House, and Jonah knew it.
"Yes," said he.
Jeffrey's face became livid as he sprang to his feet.
"Stay where thou art," said the brawny farmer, motioning him back.
"Let's have a look at thee. So thee's a manslayer? Thou looks it."
A terrible pause followed--the pause of a man who struggles for words
that will not come.
He looked terrible indeed; with heaving chest and bloodless lips, and
eyes like the eyes of a hunted wolf. At length he gasped--
"Liar!" and advanced towards the affrighted Jonah.
But the sturdy Yorkshire-man stepped between.
"Nay, nay," said he, "one's enough. Stay where thou art, and let him
give chapter and verse--chapter and verse. He came to me last night,
and said thou wast a murderer, and I've coom to see if thou art. Thou
looks one, but maybe thou'rt right to call him a liar."
"Ask him," gasped Jonah, "what he did to his old schoolfellow, young
Forrester, and then lot him call me a liar if he likes."
"Dost hear, lad? What was it thee did to thy old schoolfellow young
Forrester? That's a fair question. Out with it."
If Jeffreys had looked terrible a moment ago, he looked still more
terrible now, as he sank with a groan onto the bench, and turned a
sickened look on his accuser.
The dead silence of the room almost stunned him. He seemed to feel
every eye that turned to him like a dagger in his heart, and there rose
up in his mind a vision of that football field far away, and the
senseless figure of the boy who lay there. Everything came back. The
howl of execration, the frightened faces, the cap lying where the boy
had flung it, even the chill autumn breeze in his face.
He knew not how long he sat there stupefied. The voice of Mr Rosher
roused him.
"Coom, now, dost thou say liar still?"
Jeffreys struggled to his feet, no longer furious, but still more
terrible in his dejection.
"Yes," snapped Jonah, astonished at the effect of his accusation, and
just wise enough to see that to add to or take away from the story would
be to spoil it. "What did you do to your poor schoolfellow, young
Forrester? Do you suppose we don't see through you?"
"Hold thy tongue, little donkey!" said the farmer; "let's hear what he
has to say."
For a moment it seemed as if Jeffreys was about to take him at his word,
and say something. But his tongue failed him at the critical moment,
and he gave it up. He had caught sight of Teddy's eyes fixed on his in
mingled misery and terror, and the sight unmanned him.
He moved slowly to the door.
They watched him, spellbound, and in a moment he would have gone, had
not Teddy with a big sob made a spring forward and seized him by the
arm.
"Oh, Jeff it's a wicked he; we don't believe it. Freddy, we don't
believe it, do we? Father, he's been good to us; he never did anything
unkind. Don't have him sent away!"
This appeal fairly broke the spell. Freddy was at his brother's side in
an instant, and the rest of the school, had not Mr Rosher motioned them
back, would have followed him.
"Teddy and Freddy, my lads," said the farmer, "go to thy seats like good
lads. Let him say yea or nay to what this--little--peacher says."
"Say you didn't, Jeff," implored the boys.
Jeffreys shook his head sadly.
"I can't," he said. "If he's dead--"
"Oh, he's dead," put in Jonah; "I can tell you that."
Jeffreys gave one scared look at the speaker, and then hurried from the
room.
Mrs Trimble followed him up to his room.
"I don't believe it all," said she; "you never did it on purpose, you're
not so bad as that. I won't believe it even if you tell me," said the
good lady, bursting into tears.
Jeffreys put together his few books and garments.
"You're going," said she, "of course. It's no use hoping you won't.
Here's two pounds you're owed--and--"
Jeffreys took the money, and kept her hand for a moment in his.
"You are kind," said he hoarsely. "Good-bye, Mrs Trimble."
He kissed her hand and took up his bundle.
At the foot of the stairs a boy's hand was laid on his arm.
"Oh, Jeff," whispered Teddy--he had stolen out of the schoolroom. "Poor
Jeff! I know you aren't wicked. Say good-bye, Jeff. What shall we do?
What shall we do?"
"Good-bye, little chap," said Jeffreys, stooping down and kissing the
boy's wet cheek.
"But, Jeff, where are you going? When will you--?"
Jeffreys was gone.
In the schoolroom meanwhile the inevitable reaction had taken place.
As the door closed behind Jeffreys, Jonah, hardly knowing what he did,
gave vent to a hysterical laugh.
It was the signal for an explosion such as he had little counted on.
"Thou little dirty toad!" said the farmer, rounding on him wrathfully;
"what dost mean by that? Hey? For shame!"
"Beast!" shouted Freddy, choking with anger and misery.
"Beast!" echoed the school.
Some one threw a wet sponge across the room, but Mr Rosher intercepted
it.
"Nay, nay, lads; don't waste your clean things on him. Freddy and
Teddy, my lads--where's Teddy?--come along home. You've done with
Galloway House."
"Why, sir--" expostulated the wretched Jonah.
"Hold thy tongue again," roared the farmer. "Coom away, lads. Thee can
take a half-holiday to-day, all of you, and if thy parents ask why, say
Farmer Rosher will tell them."
"I'll have you prosecuted," growled Trimble, "for interfering with my--"
"Dost want to be shut up in yon cupboard?" roared the hot-headed farmer.
And the hint was quite enough.
Galloway House on that day turned a corner. Farmer Rosher, who had sore
doubts in his own mind whether he had done good or harm by his
interference, spoke his mind freely to his neighbours on the subject of
Jonah Trimble, a proceeding in which his two sons heartily backed him
up. The consequence was that that worthy young pedagogue found his
scholastic labours materially lightened--for a dozen boys are easier to
teach than fifty--and had time to wonder whether after all he would not
have served his day and generation quite as well by looking after his
own affairs, as after the most unprofitable affairs of somebody else.