It required some strength of mind to go straight to the Doctor's study
next morning, tell him the whole truth, and ask for his forgiveness.
But we did it, and though he looked very serious, and pointed out our
wrong-doing strongly, he forgave us, and became deeply interested in the
affair, making us relate all we had seen.
"I heard of the encounter as soon as I came down," he said. "Lomax
ought to have sent you both back to your room. So it was that labourer.
Poor fellow! I gave him a fresh chance twice over, but I'm afraid he
is a ne'er-do-weel. However, he is severely punished now."
The man Lomax knocked down went before the magistrates, and was packed
off to prison, but Magglin had to go up to London, to one of the great
hospitals, and some months after, the chief magistrate in our district,
that is to say, General Sir Hawkhurst Rye, had him up before him in his
library, and punished him.
Bob Hopley told me all about it, just after he had announced, with a
good many grins and winks, that Polly was--"Going to be married to
master's favourite groom, and they're to live at Number 2 lodge."
"And how did he punish him, Bob?" Mercer said eagerly.
"Punished him, sir? why, he's took him on as a watcher under me. Says
poachers make the best keepers; but, o' course, he can't never be a
keeper, with only one arm."
"Ah," I said thoughtfully, "you said he would lose his arm."
"Yes, sir, and they took it off pretty close. But there, I think he'll
mend now."
My story, (or rather my random notes), of my old school-days is pretty
well ended now, though I could rake out a good deal more from the dark
corners of my memory. For, after that adventure in the wood, the time
soon seemed to come when Tom Mercer had to leave, to begin his course of
training for a surgeon, while I was bound for Woolwich, to become a
cadet.
It was a sad day for me when I first went to "Old Browne's," but it was
a sadder day when I left, for I felt very sore at heart, and it required
all my strength of mind to keep up a brave show.
For every one was very kind, and it was like parting from old friends
whom I might never see again. The boys were all out in the front drive,
where the General's carriage stood waiting to take me and my mother to
meet the London mail coach, and the two gentlemen were with us. For my
mother and my uncle had come down to fetch me, and say a few kind words
to the Doctor and Mrs Doctor, as well as to visit Sir Hawkhurst. I saw
Lomax too, and Mr Rebble and Mr Hasnip, at the door, and it seemed as
if there was always some one fresh to shake hands with, the old sergeant
shaking mine with both his, and his voice sounded very husky as he
said,--
"You won't forget your drill, sir, nor your balance in the saddle; heels
well down, and ride your horse on the curb, mind--don't forget, and--
and--"
The old fellow could get no further. The tears started to his eyes, and
to hide his emotion, and to save me from breaking down, he drew himself
up stiffly and saluted me.
Lastly, I found that the servants were all outside too, waiting to say
good-bye, and I couldn't go without stepping aside to shake hands with
Cook, who uttered a loud sob, snatched me to her, and gave me a sounding
kiss.
Then I was back on the steps saying my farewells to the Doctor and his
wife, and I felt that I had bade every one now good-bye but Tom Mercer,
who was to leave the following day, but, to my intense disappointment,
he was missing; and, time pressing, I was at last obliged to climb into
the britzska, where my mother, my uncle, and the General were already
seated, the word was given, the coachman touched his horses as soon as
the groom had climbed to his side, and the boys nearly frightened them
into a headlong gallop, as they burst out into a volley of cheers,
mingled with, "Good-bye, Burr junior! Good luck to you, soldier!" and
amidst the waving of caps from the lads, and handkerchiefs from the
door, I stood up in the carriage and roared excitedly,--
"Where's old Senna?"
I faintly heard the words, "Don't know," and I stood looking about
wildly, full of bitter disappointment at leaving without seeing him.
I was standing up at the back, where my mother had the other seat, the
two old officers being before us, but there was no Tom Mercer, and I was
about to sit down, feeling that the poor fellow could not face the
farewell, when, at the turn of the road, there on the bank stood Polly
Hopley, with a parcel in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other,
and beside her, Bob Hopley in his brown velveteens, his gun under his
left arm and his hat in his hand.
As we trotted by, the parcel and bouquet fell into the carriage, and I
waved my hand back to them till we were out of sight, when I found that
my mother was holding the flowers, which had her name on a label like
that used with a doctor's bottle, while the parcel was directed to me.