Riddell was fairly committed to his task now. Like the good old general
who burned his ships when he landed on the enemy's shores, he had cut
off from himself the slightest possibility of a retreat, and must now
either go right through with the matter or confess himself a miserable
failure.
The consciousness of this nerved him with unlooked-for courage, and he
walked from the Parliament that afternoon a very different being from
the boy who had entered it. He had entered it cowed, irresolute,
wretched; he left it indeed still wretched, but with his spirit roused
and his mind made up. His duty lay clear before him, and whatever it
cost he must do it.
Whether Wibberly was himself the writer of the mysterious letter, or
whether some one had prompted him to ask the question, or whether his
asking it just at this time was a mere coincidence, he did not trouble
to decide.
He felt rather grateful to him than otherwise for having asked it, just
as one is occasionally grateful to the thunder-clap for clearing the
air.
The first thing without doubt was to find Wyndham, and come to a clear
understanding as to whether or not he was the culprit; and the captain
lost no time in attempting to put this resolve into practice.
It would not do, he knew, immediately after the scene in the Parliament,
when everybody would be on the tip-toe of curiosity, to be seen holding
a secret interview with any particular boy. He therefore decided wisely
to wait till the usual time when Wyndham was in the habit of coming to
his study to do his lessons. Meanwhile, to make sure of his coming, he
sent him a message by Cusack to tell him to be sure and turn up.
Cusack, little suspecting the importance of this simple message,
delivered it glibly, and being of course brimful of the excitement of
the hour, he remained a little to regale Wyndham with a history of the
afternoon's events.
"Oh, I say," said he, "you weren't at Parliament this afternoon. There
was no end of a shine on."
"Was there?" asked Wyndham.
"Rather. What do you think, those young Parrett's cads came down in a
body and kicked up the biggest row you ever saw--said they were a club,
and made no end of beasts of themselves, and got kicked out at last, and
serve them right too."
"They're always fooling about at something," said Wyndham.
"That they are. They want a good taking down, and we mean to do it next
week in the junior house match."
"Ah," said Wyndham, who amid all his recent troubles could never forget
that he was a second-eleven man. "Ah, I heard the juniors' match was to
come off. What day is it to be?"
"Thursday."
"Oh, I must come and have a look at you. Is Welch's going to win?"
"Going to try, and I fancy we're pretty fair. They've been lazy, you
know, in Parrett's, and so we get a pull there. Oh, but I was saving
that row with the kids wasn't all this afternoon. Just at the end that
cad Wibberly got up and asked Riddell some more about the boat-race--
they're always hammering away at that, and what do you think Riddell
said--guess!"
"I can't," said Wyndham.
"Why he said he knew who the chap was who had cut the strings, or
fancied he did!"
"Who is it?" exclaimed Wyndham, excitedly.
"That's what he won't say. And of course there's an awful row on. They
say they'll make him tell, or kick him out of the school or something.
They're in no end of a rage."
"Why doesn't he tell who it is?" asked Wyndham.
"Oh, he says he's not sure, or something like that. But I dare say
he'll tell you all about it this evening. You're to be sure and turn
up, he says, at preparation time."
And off went this vivacious messenger, leaving Wyndham in a considerable
state of astonishment and perturbation.
What did Riddell want him for? He had not seen him since that evening,
a week ago, when he had so nearly confessed to him about Beamish's. He
hardly liked not to go now, although he knew it would be hard to avoid
letting out the wretched secret which he had promised Gilks and Silk to
keep.
Besides, uneasy as he was about this, he could not help feeling excited
about what Cusack had just told him of the boat-race affair. And most
likely, when he came to consider, Riddell would be so full of that that
he might perhaps not say any more about Beamish's. So Wyndham decided
to go, and in due time presented himself with his books at the captain's
study.
He could see at once that Riddell was in one of his serious moods, and
his heart sank, for he had no doubt what was coming, and felt that,
unless he were to break his promise, matters were sure to be made worse.
"I'm glad you've come," said Riddell; "you went off so suddenly the
other evening."
"Yes," said Wyndham; "the lock-up bell rang, and I was bound to be in my
house before it stopped."
"You know what I want to see you about now, Wyndham?" said the captain,
nervously.
"Yes," replied the boy, doggedly; "I suppose I do."
There was a long, uncomfortable pause, at the end of which Riddell said,
"Surely, Wyndham, you are not going to leave it to me to clear up this
matter?"
"What do you mean?" asked the boy, burying his face in his hands, and
utterly unnerved by the tones of his friend's voice.
"I mean this," said Riddell, as firmly as he could, "that there are only
two courses open. Either you must confess what you have done, of your
own accord, or it will be my duty to do it for you."
"I don't see how it's your duty to tell everybody," said the boy. "I
should get expelled to a dead certainty!"
"It must either be one or the other," said the captain.
"Oh, Riddell!" exclaimed the boy, springing to his feet, "don't say
that! I know I've been a cad, and let myself be led into it; but surely
it's not so bad as all that! You've always been a brick to me, I know,
and I've not been half grateful enough. But do let us off this time!
please do! I can't tell you anything; I would gladly, only I've
promised. You wouldn't have me break my promise? If you tell of me I
shall be expelled I know I shall! Do help me out this time!"
"Poor fellow!" said Riddell, who was not proof against this sort of
appeal from any one, least of all from one he loved.
The boy was quick in the energy of his despair to follow up his
advantage.
"I'd make it good any other way--any way you like--but don't have me
expelled, Riddell. Think of them all at home, what a state they would
be in! I know I deserve it; but can't you get me out of it?"
"If you were to go to the doctor and tell him everything--" began
Riddell.
"Oh, that's just what I can't do!" exclaimed Wyndham. "I'd do it like a
shot if it was only myself in it. I don't know how you found it all
out, I'm sure; but I can't go and tell the doctor, even if it was to get
me off being expelled."
It was no use going on like this. Riddell was getting unmanned every
moment, and Wyndham by these wild appeals was only prolonging the agony.
"Wyndham, old fellow," said the captain, in tones full of sympathy and
pity, "if I had dreamt all this was to happen I would never have come to
Willoughby at all. I know what troubles you have had this term, and how
bravely you have been trying to turn over a new leaf. I'd give anything
to be able to help you out of this, but I tell you plainly I don't see
how to do it. If you like, I'll go with you to the doctor, and--"
"No, no!" exclaimed Wyndham, wildly, "I can't do that! I can't do
that!"
"Then," said Riddell, gravely, "I must go to him by myself."
Wyndham looked up and tried to speak, and then fairly broke down.
"If the honour of the whole school were not involved--"
Wyndham looked up in a startled way. "The honour of the school? What
has it got to do with my going to--"
What strange fatality was there about Riddell's study-door that it
always opened at the most inopportune times?
Just as Wyndham began to speak it opened again, and Bloomfield, of all
persons, appeared.
"I want to speak to you, Riddell," he said.
The words were uttered before he had noticed that the captain was not
alone, or that his visitor was young Wyndham, in a state of great
distress--hardly greater than that of Riddell himself.
As soon as he did perceive it he drew back, and said, "I beg your
pardon; I didn't know any one was here."
"I'll go," said Wyndham, hurriedly, going to the door, and hardly
lifting his eyes from the ground as he passed.
Bloomfield could hardly help noticing his strange appearance, or
wondering at it.
"Anything wrong with young Wyndham?" said he, not sorry to have some way
of breaking the ice.
"He's in trouble," said the captain. "Won't you sit down?"
It was a very long time since the head of Parrett's and the captain of
the school had met in this polite way. But Bloomfield for some time
past had shown signs of coming round to see that the position which had
been forced upon him, and which he had been very ready at first to
accept, was not a satisfactory one. And, greatly to the disgust of some
of his fellow-monitors, he had shown this more than once by friendly
advances towards his rival. But, so far, he had never got to the length
of calling upon him in his study.
Riddell was scarcely surprised to see him, although he was quite
unprepared for the very amicable way in which he began.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you," said Bloomfield, "but I've been intending
to come over the last day or two."
"It's very good of you," said Riddell.
"The fact is," said Bloomfield, a little nervously, "ever since that
debate in Parliament some weeks ago, when you spoke about all pulling
together, I've felt that our fellows haven't done as much as they ought
in that way--I know I haven't."
Riddell did not exactly know what to say. He could not say that the
Parrett's fellows _had_ "pulled together" for the good of the school, so
he said nothing.
"I'm getting rather sick of it," continued Bloomfield, digging his hands
in his pockets.
"So am I," said the captain.
"You know," said Bloomfield, "it was that wretched boat-race affair
which made things as bad as they were. Our fellows wouldn't have kept
it up so long if that hadn't happened."
Riddell began to get more and more uneasy. He had expected this was
coming, and there was no escaping it.
"It was an awfully ugly business, of course," continued Bloomfield; "and
though no one suspected fellows like you and Fairbairn of such a thing,
our fellows, you know, were pretty sure some one was at the bottom of
it."
Riddell could not help thinking, in the midst of his uneasiness, how
very sagacious the Parrett's fellows had been to make the discovery!
"And now," said Bloomfield, looking up, and feeling relieved to have his
speech nearly done--"now that you've found out who it is, and it's all
going to be cleared up, I think things ought to come all right."
It was a painful situation for the captain of Willoughby. The bribe
which Bloomfield offered for his secret was what had been the wish of
his heart the whole term. If he accepted it now there would be an end
to all the wretched squabbles which had worked such mischief in the
school the last few months, and the one object of his ambition as head
of the school would be realised.
Surely, now, he could hold back no longer. His duty, his interest, the
honour of the school, all demanded his secret of him; whereas if he held
it back things would be worse than ever before. And yet he hesitated.
That last wild half-finished exclamation of Wyndham's lingered in his
mind and perplexed him. Suppose there should be some mistake? With
that knife in his pocket, and the poor boy's whole conduct and demeanour
to corroborate its story, he could scarcely hope it. But _suppose_
there was a doubt, or even the shadow of a doubt, what right had he to
accuse him, or even to breathe his name?
"I hope it will be cleared up before long," said he.
"Why, you said you knew who it was!" said Bloomfield.
"I said I suspected somebody."
"Who is it?" asked Bloomfield.
"I can't tell you," replied Riddell. "I'm not sure; I may be wrong."
"But surely you're not going to keep a thing like this to yourself!"
exclaimed Bloomfield, warmly; "it concerns everybody in the school.
I've a right, at any rate, as stroke of the Parrett's boat, to know who
it is."
"Of course, you have; and if I was quite sure I was right I would tell
you."
"But you can tell me whom you suspect," said Bloomfield, who had not
anticipated this difficulty. "No, I cannot," replied the captain. "In
confidence, at any rate," said Bloomfield. "No, not till I am sure. I
really cannot."
Bloomfield's manner changed. This rebuff was not what he had expected.
He had come here partly out of curiosity partly from a desire to be
friendly, and partly owing to the eagerness of his companions to have an
explanation. He had never doubted but that he would succeed; nay, even
that Riddell would be glad to meet him more than half-way. But now it
seemed this was not to be, and Bloomfield lost his temper.
"You mean to say," said he, angrily, "you're going to keep it to
yourself?"
"Yes, till I am sure."
"Till you are sure! What are you going to do to make it sure, I'd like
to know?"
"Everything I can."
"You know, I suppose, what everybody says about you and the whole
concern?" said Bloomfield.
"I can't help what they say," said the captain.
"They say that if you chose you could tell straight out like an honest
man who it is."
Riddell looked quickly up at the speaker, and Bloomfield felt half
ashamed of the taunt directly it escaped his lips.
"I say that's what the fellows think," said he, "and it's in your own
interest to clear yourself. They think you are shielding some one."
The captain's face changed colour rapidly, and Bloomfield was quick
enough to see it.
"It's hardly what fellows had been led to expect of you," said he, with
a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "Anyhow it knocks on the head any idea
of our pulling together as I had hoped. I certainly shall do nothing
towards it as long as this ugly business is going on."
"Bloomfield, I've told you--" began Riddell.
"You've told me a great deal," said Bloomfield, "but you can't deny that
you are sheltering the cad, whoever he is, under the pretext of not
being quite sure."
Riddell said nothing, and Bloomfield, seeing nothing could come of this
altercation, left the room.
At the door, however, a thought struck him. Could that agitated scene
between Riddell and young Wyndham, which he had interrupted by his
arrival, have had anything to do with this mystery?
He recollected now what a state of distress both had been in; and, now
he thought of it, surely he had heard Wyndham's voice saying something
in tones of very eager appeal at the moment the door was open. Besides
Wyndham had been very "down" for a week past. Bloomfield had noticed it
at the cricket practices; and more than one fellow had spoken of it in
his hearing. He knew too how thick the boy was with the captain, and
with what almost brotherly concern Riddell watched over all his
interests; every one in Willoughby knew it.
Bloomfield was only a moderately clever youth, but he knew enough to put
two and two together; and, as he stood there at the door, the state of
the case flashed across his mind. He might get at the secret after all!
"You forget that other people can suspect besides you, Riddell," he
said, turning back. "Suppose I was to suspect that precious young
friend of yours who stood blubbering here just now?"
It was well for the captain that his back was turned as Bloomfield said
this, otherwise the least doubt as to the correctness of his guess would
have been instantly dispelled.
The last strait in which Riddell found himself was worse than any that
had gone before. For he could not deny, and to say nothing would be the
same as assenting. The secret was out, and what could he do? The only
thing seemed to be to appeal to Bloomfield's generosity, to explain all
to him, and to implore him, for a day or two at least, to keep sacred
the confidence.
And yet--it was the old question--suppose he were wrong, and suppose
after all Wyndham were not the culprit, what grievous wrong would he be
doing him by admitting even his suspicion! He composed himself with an
effort, and turning, replied, "Excuse me, Bloomfield, I've told you I
can say nothing at present, and it is really useless to say any more
about it."
Bloomfield departed, perplexed and angry. His anger was partly because
he could not help feeling that Riddell was in the right; and his
perplexity was to know what to think of it all, and whether his guess
about young Wyndham was near the mark or not.
"Well," inquired Game, who with one or two of the most ardent Parretts
was eagerly waiting his return. "Have you got it out of him?"
"No," said Bloomfield, "he won't tell me."
"The cad!" exclaimed Game. "Why ever not?"
"He says he's not sure, that's why," said Bloomfield; "but it's my
private opinion he's shielding some one or other."
"Of course he is," said Ashley. "I shouldn't wonder if he's known who
it is all along."
"Anyhow," said Tipper, "he ought to be made to clear it up, or else pay
up for it. I know I'll cut him dead next time I see him."
"So shall we," replied one or two others.
"He won't afflict himself much about that," said Bloomfield; "if I were
sure he didn't want to shirk it I'd be inclined to give him a day or two
before doing anything."
"What's the use? Of course he wants to shirk it," said Game, "and
thinks it will blow over if it goes long enough. I'll take precious
good care it doesn't, though."
"Upon my honour," said Ashley, "I never expected Willoughby would _come_
to this pass. It was bad enough to have a coward and a fool as captain,
but it's rather too much when he turns out to be a cheat too!"
"And to think that he ever got stuck in the first eleven," said Tipper.
"I told you, Bloomfield, he'd be no credit to you."
"He caught out that best man of theirs," said Bloomfield.
"Bah! I'd sooner have lost the match twice over," exclaimed Game, "than
win it with his help!"
And so these estimable young gentlemen, satisfied that they alone were
the glory and support of Willoughby, disposed in their own minds of
their wicked captain, and thanked their lucky stars they were made of
nobler stuff and loftier principle.