STARBRIGHT SPEAKS OUT.
Frank Merriwell and Dick Starbright sat alone in Merry’s room in the
Fifth Avenue Hotel. It was long past midnight, and, despite the exciting
adventures of the last few hours, Jack Diamond had retired in an
adjoining room and was already wrapped in the arms of slumber.
In the morning, Frank and Dick expected to start for New Haven and Yale,
but this had not prevented them from remaining up to talk over the
strange happenings of the day. The freshman was eager to talk, and Merry
gave him an opportunity.
There was a burden on Starbright’s mind, and the big, open-hearted youth
felt that it would be impossible for him to sleep till he had freed
himself of the load.
Having slipped to the door of the adjoining room and closed it quietly,
Dick came back and stood before Frank, who looked at him questioningly.
“Merry,” said the big freshman, “I am not worthy of her!”
“You mean——”
“Inza.”
“I thought——”
“I know I am not worthy of her, for I doubted her.”
There was a look of shame on the face of the big fellow that touched
Merry deeply, yet, believing Dick was entitled to feel shame, Frank did
not speak.
“At first I doubted you,” the Andover man went on. “I had no right to do
that, for it was I who came between you and Inza.”
Merriwell made a gesture of protest.
“Don’t stop me!” pleaded Dick. “I know what I am saying. I also know
that I never really won a place in her heart. I may have aroused her
admiration by something I did, and she liked me; but that was all, and I
know she did not love me.”
“How do you know?”
“I can’t tell you just now; but I know it now—there isn’t a doubt about
it.”
But Frank could not feel so sure, and he shook his head.
“If you were anybody but yourself you would see it, too,” asserted
Starbright earnestly. “She loves you, Frank—she has always loved you. I
know that!”
“Oh, my dear boy, you are quite wrong!” quickly cried Frank. “She has
told me with her own lips that her affection for me was merely that
which a sister might feel for a very dear brother.”
“And did you think she would tell you anything else unless you were the
first to speak?” demanded Dick. “You are astute and far-seeing, Merry,
but in this matter you have been blind as a bat. She is proud. Do you
think she’d let you know how much she cared for you, thinking as she did
that you cared more for another? Of course she would tell you she could
never be anything but a sister to you.”
Dick smiled in a dry way, but that smile gave him pain of which Frank
knew nothing, for the big, handsome blond athlete had been deeply
smitten by the dark eyes of Inza Burrage, and the sacrifice he was
making now was costing him the effort of his life.
Dick Starbright possessed physical courage, as he had often
demonstrated; but, caring for Inza as he did, it now took great moral
courage for him to abandon his last hope of ever winning her.
But he had become convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was
unworthy of Inza, and that Frank was the worthy one. More than that, he
believed that Frank, without being entirely aware of it himself, loved
Inza.
On top of this came the conviction that Inza had loved Frank all along,
though her pride had caused her to try to hide the secret in her heart,
being satisfied that Merry cared more for Elsie. Having fought against
her liking for Frank, it was but natural that Inza should, to aid her in
her struggle, turn to some other youth whom she admired.
Circumstances had made the other one Dick Starbright. Satisfied that she
would be doing the right thing toward Frank and Elsie by appearing to
care for another than Merry, Inza’s conscience had not troubled her in
the least.
She had not been false and fickle; she was true to her convictions of
right. Never had she given Starbright a reason to be certain that she
cared for him in any other way than as a friend. Indeed, she had told
him that was the only way she cared for him or ever could care for him.
But Dick, like any man thus encouraged, had hoped for something more.
His jealousy had been aroused when Frank remained behind in New York.
Tortured by the thought that Merriwell was with Inza, he had finally
rushed back to the city.
Then came the adventures which opened his eyes, convinced him that Frank
truly loved Inza and was worthy of her, and led him to resolve to
withdraw from the field at once.
Inza knew nothing of Starbright’s doubts concerning her, but from the
lips of her brother she learned that he owed his life to Frank
Merriwell, who had groped through flame and smoke to find him helpless
in the burning building and bear him forth.
And now Starbright, having seen himself in his true light, and having
discovered Frank’s secret, made a noble resolve to take himself out of
the way without delay. This had led him to remain up long after Jack
Diamond retired, seeking an opportunity to talk privately with Merry.
Dick’s words gave Merriwell a shock. Could it be true the freshman was
right? Could it be true Inza had loved him all along, but had sought to
hide her love from his eyes? Further, was it true that he had loved
Inza—that he still loved her?
As he asked himself these questions, he felt a strange sensation
creeping over him, thrilling him from his head to his feet with the same
old emotion he had experienced one moonlight night in dear old Fardale,
as he leaned over the gate in front of Inza’s home and kissed her for
the first time.
Was it love stirring and reawakening within his heart?
Frank sat like one under a spell, a rapt look of pleasure on his
handsome face as he seemed to live over again that happy hour of a
moonlight night in Fardale, far away. He saw Inza as she looked then,
leaning on the gate, the white moonlight showing the sweet, girlish
outline of her high-bred oval face, and he remembered the look he saw
within her dark eyes just before he impulsively pressed his lips to
hers.
That kiss—the memory of it had been with him always! Sometimes it seemed
that he had tried to forget, but still it clung to him. In times of
peril it sustained him and gave him hope; in times of distress it
soothed him and gave him comfort. When his life hung in the balance, as
it had more than once, and it seemed that there was no hope, the memory
of that kiss over the gate had kept the spark of hope alive in his
heart, had caused him to continue the battle, had kept him from ever
giving up.
Now it seemed that for the first time he fully realized this. Now for
the first time he understood that in moments of frightful peril, when
there seemed absolutely not a ray of hope, he had hoped on and had not
given up because he thought of Inza—because he must see her again.
The thought struck home to him with convincing force. Through all the
years since they plighted their love in the moonlight at Fardale he had
loved her. Through all the years since then her influence had been over
him, making him better, stronger, nobler. She had been his guardian
angel, saving him scores of times from deadly perils. Her love, her
influence, her spirit had hovered near, even though the width of the
world separated them.
No wonder Frank Merriwell sat there like one entranced, wondering that
he had never realized this before, bitterly condemning himself for his
blindness.
His face must have expressed much, for Starbright was silenced and
turned quietly away, leaving Frank to meditate on this wonderful thing
which had dawned upon him like a glorious light in a dark place.
The love of Inza had been pure and noble and uplifting. He had felt it
thus, and to it he owed much that he had become. Now, at this late hour,
after all that had happened, he knew it was for Inza he had striven and
struggled. For her he had worked to make himself physically and mentally
great. For her he had labored night and day to conquer all things,
surmount all obstacles, reach the loftiest heights.
What a revelation it was! He saw how her influence had uplifted him
above the level of common men and had placed him on a pinnacle where
those below looked up at him in wonder and admiration.
For truly in his short life no other man had ever reached the height of
absolute manhood and popularity attained by Frank Merriwell. Not that
others had not equaled him, but never had their names and fame spread
abroad like his. From one end of the United States to the other, from
East to West, the name Frank Merriwell was a synonym of all that was
noble and grand and desirable in a manly way.
Men spoke of him as “the representative American youth,” and boys
everywhere tried to pattern after him, live like him and lift themselves
high in the scale of manhood as he had done. His example had been a
noble one, and it is probable that it had done more good for the boys of
the country than that of any other living American. Other men had
acquired fame by struggling and battling all their lives; some being
great generals, some becoming leaders in grand causes, some occupying
the highest office it is in the power of the people to give; but not one
of them had ever obtained such universal fame, such absolute admiration,
such honor and respect as this beardless youth who had simply worked to
perfect himself, to be just and merciful to all, and to uplift his
fellows instead of pushing them down.
In most ways this is a beautiful world, but there are many bad things in
it, many things to cause suffering, sorrow, and regret. One of the most
unpleasant is the constant struggle, the incessant battle for supremacy.
In this unceasing battle that is taking place day after day all the
wickedness, deceit, treachery, greed, and corruption of human nature is
flagrantly exhibited. Men resort to any means to accomplish their ends
and exalt themselves above their fellows. They lie, steal, betray, and
destroy without compunction and without mercy. That they may mount
higher, they pull scores down, trample hundreds beneath their feet. And
when they have reached the pinnacle for which they have sacrificed their
manhood and destroyed their better nature—they die.
Then, what a grand thing it is to see one who is fighting on in a
perfectly fair and honorable way, who refuses to pull a single weak
wretch down, who holds out his hands to the faint and faltering and
draws them up with him, as he mounts step by step on the joyful journey
to the top.
Such a person, if he is human, will find many things to sadden him, for
some he has helped will show envy and jealousy when they find they
cannot keep pace with him on his upward way. When they have to fall
behind they will sneer at and malign him, forgetting often that but for
his aid they might have gone to the bottom and been obliterated beneath
the merciless feet of the trampling, swaying, striving horde down there.
For it is true of human nature that one whom you have helped, one whom
you have tried to uplift, will almost always be the first to feel
jealousy when he sees you rising above him.
Although this is true, it should deter no one from holding out a helping
hand to the needy whenever possible, for he will find that the joy of
the action is its own exceeding great reward.
Frank had never hesitated when an opportunity offered to aid a fellow
being. He had ever been merciful to the extreme with his enemies. Often
he had thus caused those enemies to regard him as weak and yielding, but
when they had pressed him to the very verge and he realized that further
leniency was worse than folly, they had found him hard as iron.
But he had been rewarded for the course he pursued. The lads who were
his firmest friends had once been his enemies, and it seemed that the
more they hated him and tried to harm him in the long ago the better
they loved him, and the more devoted they were now.
For example, Hodge had once been his most malignant foe, ready to do
anything to harm him; but Frank believed he saw in Bart something that
did not appear to other eyes, believed the passionate, head-strong youth
had in him the making of an admirable man, and he had refused to bring
on Bart the punishment and disgrace merited a score of times. At first,
Hodge had believed Frank weak and lacking spirit, but slowly his eyes
were opened and he finally saw Merry in the true light. Then he realized
that his lenient foe was the possessor of moral and physical courage,
and was so far his superior in every way that he felt small and
miserable and mean and contemptible by contrast. For a time, being proud
and obstinate, Bart continued to try to fight on as Frank’s enemy, but
he was forced to surrender at last, and he became Merry’s firmest
friend, ready in a moment to sacrifice life for him.
One such victory was enough to satisfy and reward Frank for all his
defeats. But that one was not all. Strangely enough, nearly all his
intimate friends had been won to him in a similar way, his “flock” being
made up mainly of those who had once been his bitter enemies, among whom
were Diamond, Browning, and Badger. Harry Rattleton alone had been his
true and constant friend from their first meeting, and often Frank
wondered if Rattleton’s affection for him was as deep and sincere as
that of the others.
And now, thinking of all that he had done, Frank could see that he had
been urged on by a strange, subtle influence that remained always with
him—the influence of the dark-eyed girl who had given him her maiden
kiss of love over the gate that moonlight night in Fardale. It is true
that man seldom makes much of himself, seldom mounts to great heights
unless behind him is the influence of a woman. He may without woman’s
influence become a miser, a Shylock, a money magnate, and a wrecker of
human lives; but he seldom becomes noble, honored, loved, and cherished
in the hearts of his fellow men unless behind him is the influence of a
good, true woman urging him on to the splendid deeds which uplift him.
At times Merry had seemed to realize the presence of that subtle
influence, and then had risen vague visions of the many girls he had
known, with Elsie and Inza the most prominent. Elsie, by her gentle
ways, had crept into his heart, and, for a time, it had seemed that she
had excluded Inza. Not that she had meant to do such a thing, for Elsie
Bellwood, sweet, gentle, loving, would have died rather than wrong the
girl who had been her friend. But Elsie was human, and all who are human
make mistakes. Inza was no less human, and her spirit and pride had led
her into blunders as great—perhaps greater—than those of Elsie. Was that
a reason why Frank should not love her? Rather, was it not a reason why
he should love her more?
It seemed that his love had been pent-up and suppressed all these years;
but now, in a single moment, Dick Starbright, by a few simple words, had
torn away the dam, and it came rolling down upon Frank’s heart in a tide
that was overwhelming and irresistible. He felt himself seized and swept
away with the released tide, against which it was useless to battle.
“It’s true!” he told himself, in sudden joy. “I do love her!”
But Elsie!
He felt a sudden chill run over him, and it seemed that his heart stood
still. What of her? He was forced to confess to himself that for a long
time he had fancied he cared more for sweet, gentle Elsie than for Inza.
And had he not given Elsie reason to believe such was the case? Had he
not placed himself in an awkward position, a position from which he
could not manfully withdraw?
No wonder he was chilled! No wonder his heart seemed to stop beating! No
wonder he sat there like one turned to stone, the expression of
happiness having left his face and the light of joy vanished from his
eyes.
Frank groaned aloud, causing Starbright to start and turn slightly. If
Dick had meant to speak he was checked by a single gesture Frank made,
and he settled back once more to let the tortured youth fight out the
battle with himself and solve the problem if he could.
Merry rose and paced the floor, seemingly having forgotten Dick
entirely. His aspect plainly indicated that a terrible tumult stirred
his soul, but his teeth were set, his jaws squared, and no further sound
came from his closed lips.
Starbright had seen him look somewhat like this before in times of
severe trial, but never quite so awe-inspiring and intense. Not even in
the mighty contest against Harvard on the gridiron had such an
expression rested in Frank’s face.
His mind was running over the past, and he was weighing every word and
act in the balance, feeling that the deciding hour of his life had come.
He might have sought to put it off had he been weak and faltering; he
might have resolved to wait and let circumstances work out the solution;
but, instead, he set himself to weigh everything carefully and decide
what was the thing he must do. He would cut out his course for the
future and try to follow it to the end.
To do this he was compelled to compare his emotions toward the two
girls, for whom he had cared so much. His feelings toward Elsie were
those of deep tenderness, and the thought of her awoke all the gentler
side of his nature. He had felt her tremble in his arms in a time of
frightful peril, had felt her cling about his neck, confident that he
could save her, and the memory of her quivering form, her soft, round,
clinging arms, thrilled him with the same old emotion he had mistaken as
love.
Was it love?
He knew now that always and ever she would have a place in his heart,
which she had won there by her sweet disposition and her gentle,
self-sacrificing ways, but—did he love her?
Then he thought of Inza, and he was carried away by the rush of feelings
that came upon him, so that, in a twinkling, all thought of Elsie had
been banished, and he was unable to compare this surging emotion with
the gentle feeling of tenderness he had entertained toward the other
girl.
This was love! Instantly in his heart was established the conviction,
which, however, did not give him immediate satisfaction and relief.
Elsie had trusted him. Would he not be betraying her if he turned back
to this girl who had been his first—and he now knew—his only true love?
Then, like a flash, came thoughts of some events that had happened on
Cumberland Island, off the coast of Georgia, not many weeks before. He
remembered how, when he was on the very verge of speaking out to Elsie
herself, she had told him there was another who had a claim upon her. He
thought of the encounter with Hodge that had followed and of their talk
alone on the beach. At that time, having been led into a false
conception of his regard toward Elsie, Frank openly told Bart he loved
her and regarded Inza with a feeling of friendly affection. In return,
Bart had unburdened his own heart, explaining how he had been led to
reveal to Elsie his passion for her—a passion he had meant to suppress
and hold in check. Thus they, the dearest of friends, stood revealed to
each other as rivals for the same girl.
Rivals—yes! Enemies—no! For had they not spoken freely and then clasped
hands, swearing that whatever happened they would remain true to each
other!
Having thought about this, Frank fell to pondering on Elsie’s words and
actions at the time and later. As he pondered, the conviction grew upon
him that, beyond a doubt, she had discovered that she did not love him
as intensely as she imagined. Possibly she had been carried away by the
burning passion of Bart’s love for her.
But, ever faithful and true, having learned that Inza seemingly cared
for Starbright, Elsie had resolved on a course of self-sacrifice which
she fancied would be the only honorable course she could pursue. She
would crush back any rising passion in her heart, she would not permit
herself to care for Hodge, and she would not marry Frank. She would
remain single!
Frank knew well enough how many girls say in joking mood that they will
never marry, but something had convinced him that Elsie was in sober
earnest, having made that resolve when she decided that it was the only
course for her to pursue.
Such being the case, it was probable that when she found Frank no longer
held a fancied claim upon her she would give up to the dictation of her
heart and surrender to Hodge, which would bring untold happiness to the
dark-eyed lad.
Having reached this point, Frank came over and sat down, a sigh of
relief escaping him.
“Well?” said Starbright inquiringly.
“I hope it is well,” said Frank. “I can talk no more about it to-night.
Let’s go to bed.”
But, somehow, Dick was satisfied.
------------------------------------------------------------------------