If any proof had been needed that young Wyndham was "down," as the
Parrett's fellows termed it, the fact that he did not put in appearance
at the second-eleven practice next day supplied it.
Bloomfield, who in ordinary course had strolled round to watch the play,
noticed his absence, and drew his own conclusions from it.
To Bloomfield's credit be it said that, whatever his own suspicions may
have been, he had been as reluctant as Riddell himself, as long as any
doubt existed, to name Wyndham publicly as the culprit for whom all
Willoughby was on the lookout. He had been very angry with Riddell for
his reserve, but when it came to the point of publishing his own
suspicions or not, his better feeling prevented him, and led him to copy
the captain's example.
For Riddell's reply to the suggestion of Wyndham's name had neither
confirmed or denied its correctness. He had merely declined to say
anything about the matter, so that as far as Bloomfield was concerned it
was no more than a guess, and that being so, he too was wise enough to
keep it to himself.
However, now that he noticed Wyndham's unwonted absence from the cricket
practice, he felt more than ever convinced something was wrong in that
quarter.
And so there was.
Wyndham, with a drawn sword, so to speak, over his head, was fit for
nothing.
He dared not go back to Riddell. As long as his tongue was tied any
explanation was impossible, and unless he could explain, it was worse
than useless to talk to the captain.
Equally out of the question was a confession to the doctor, or a letter
explaining all to his brother. The only thing was either to make up his
mind to his fate, or else, by getting Silk and Gilks to release him from
his promise, to get his tongue free to make a full confession of his own
delinquencies, and throw himself entirely on the doctor's mercy.
This last chance seemed feeble enough. But a drowning man will clutch
at a straw, and so Wyndham, as his last hope, faced the unpromising task
of working on the generosity of his two old patrons.
He began with Gilks. Gilks was in his own house, and had always seemed
to be the least vicious, as he was also the least clever of the two.
Besides, of late it was notorious Gilks and Silk were no longer the
friends they had been. There was a mystery about their recent quarrel;
but as Gilks had been down in the mouth ever since, while Silk showed no
signs of dejection, it was safe to assume the former had come off second
best.
Wyndham therefore selected Gilks for his first attempt as being on the
whole the less formidable of the two.
He found him in his study listlessly turning over the pages of a novel,
which evidently must either have been a very stupid one or else not
nearly as engrossing as the reader's own reflections.
He looked up with some surprise to see Wyndham, who since he had
somewhat ostentatiously cut his and Silk's acquaintance some weeks ago,
had never been near him.
"What do you want here?" he demanded, not very encouragingly.
"I know you've not much reason to be friendly with me," began the boy,
"but I want to speak to you, if I may."
"What about?" said Gilks, roughly.
The poor boy seemed suddenly to realise the hopeless nature of the task
he had undertaken, and he nearly broke down completely as he answered,
"I'm in awful trouble, Gilks."
"What's that to do with me?" asked Gilks.
Wyndham struggled hard to shake off the weakness that had come over him,
and replied, "It's about those visits to--to Beamish's. They--that is,
Riddell--I don't know how or who told him--but he seems to have found
out about it."
"Riddell!" cried Gilks, scornfully; "who cares for him?"
"Oh, but," continued Wyndham, tremulously, "he means to report me for
it."
"What? report you? I thought you and he were such dear pious friends,"
sneered Gilks.
"We are friends; but he says it is his duty to do it."
Gilks laughed scornfully.
"Of course, it is! It only needs for a thing to be mean and low, and it
will always be his duty to do it. Bah! the hypocrite!"
Wyndham was proof against this invective. Nay, bitterly as the
captain's sense of duty affected him, he could not help a passing
feeling of indignation on his friend's behalf at Gilk's words.
But he was prudent enough to keep his feelings to himself.
"Of course," said he, "if he does report me for it, I shall be
expelled."
"You may be sure of that," replied Gilks, "but what's all this got to do
with me?"
Wyndham looked up in surprise.
"Why," said he rather nervously. "Of course you know, we, that is you
and I and Silk, are all sort of in the same boat over this affair. That
is, if it all came out. But I fancy Riddell only suspects me."
"Well, if he does," said Gilks, "it's all the less any concern of mine."
"I promised, you know," said Wyndham, "to you and Silk to say nothing
about it."
"Of course you did," said Gilks, "and you'd better stick to it, or it'll
be the worse for you!"
"I think," continued the boy, "and Riddell says so--if I were to go and
tell the Doctor about it, only about myself, you know, he might perhaps
not expel me."
"Well?" said Gilks.
"Well," said Wyndham, "of course I couldn't do it after promising you
and Silk. But I thought if I promised not to say anything about you and
make out that it was all my fault, you wouldn't mind my telling Paddy."
Gilks looked at the boy in perplexity. This was a code of morality
decidedly beyond him, and for a moment he looked as if he half doubted
whether it was not a jest.
"What on earth do you mean, you young muff?" he exclaimed. "I mean, may
I go and tell him that I went those two times to Beamish's? I promise
to say nothing about you." Gilks laughed once more.
"What do I care what you go and tell him?" he said. "If you want to get
expelled as badly as all that I don't want to prevent you, I'm sure."
"Then I really may?" exclaimed poor Wyndham, scarcely believing his own
ears.
"Of course, if you keep me out of it, what on earth do I care what you
tell him? You may tell him you murdered somebody there for all I care."
"Oh, thanks, thanks," cried Wyndham with a positively beaming face. "I
give you my word I won't even mention you or Silk."
"As long as you don't mention me, that's all _I_ care for," said Gilks;
"and upon my word," added he, with a sigh half to himself, "I don't much
care whether you do or not!"
Wyndham was too delighted and relieved to pay any heed to this last
dreary remark, and gratefully took his leave, feeling that though the
battle was anything but won yet he was at least a good deal nearer hope
than he had been an hour ago.
But he very soon checked the reviving flow of his spirits as the
prospect of an interview with Silk began to loom out ahead.
He had not seen Silk since the evening of the Rockshire match, when, as
the reader will remember the meeting was anything but a pleasant one,
and, but for the timely arrival of a third party, might have ended
severely for the younger boy.
The recollection of this did not certainly add to the hopefulness of his
present undertaking; but young Wyndham was a boy of such a sanguine
temper, and such elastic spirits, that he could not help hoping
something would turn up in his favour even now. He had got on far
better than he had dared to hope with Gilks, why not also with Silk?
Besides, when all was said, it was his only chance, and therefore,
whether he hoped anything or nothing, he must try it.
He wandered about during the hour between first and second school with
the idea of coming across his man in the quadrangle or the playground.
He could not make up his mind to beard the lion in his den; indeed at
present he had every reason to fight shy of Welch's.
Second and third school passed before he was able to renew his search,
and this time he was successful.
Just as he was beginning to give up hope, and was meditating a show-up
for appearance's sake at the cricket practice, he caught sight of Silk
lolling on a bench in a distant corner of the Big.
His heart sunk as he made the discovery, but it was no time for
consulting his inclinations.
He moved timidly over in the direction of the bench, taking care to
approach it from behind, so as to be spared the discomfort of a long
inspection on the way.
Silk blissfully unconscious of the visit in store, was peacefully
performing a few simple addition sums on the back of an envelope, and
calculating how with six shillings he should be able to pay debts
amounting to twenty-six, when Wyndham's shadow suddenly presented itself
between him and his figures and gave him quite a start.
"Ah!" said he, in his usual friendly style, and to all appearances quite
forgetful of the incidents of his last interview with this visitor.
"Ah, Wyndham, so you've come back?"
"I wanted to see you very particularly," said the boy.
"Plenty of room on the seat," said Silk.
Wyndham, feeling far more uncomfortable at this civility than he had
done at Gilk's roughness, sat down.
"Nice weather," said Silk, mockingly, after the pause had lasted some
little time.
"I want to ask you a favour--a great favour," said Wyndham, feeling that
a beginning must be made.
"Very kind of you," replied Silk, going on with his sums, and whistling
softly to himself.
Wyndham did not feel encouraged. He had half a mind to back out of the
venture even now, but desperation urged him on.
"You know I promised you never to say a word about Beamish's," he
faltered, at length.
"So you did," replied Silk, drily.
"Would you mind letting me off that promise?"
"What?" exclaimed Silk, putting down his paper and pencil and staring at
the boy.
"I mean only as far as I'm concerned," said Wyndham, hurriedly, trying
to avert a storm.
"As far as you are concerned! What on earth are you talking about?"
exclaimed the other.
"I want to confess to the doctor that I went those two times," said the
boy. "I wouldn't mention your name or Gilk's. I only want to tell him
about myself."
"Have you gone mad, or what?" cried Silk, utterly perplexed, as Gilks
had been, to understand the boy's meaning.
Wyndham explained to him as best he could how the matter stood. How
Riddell appeared to have discovered his delinquencies, and was resolved
to report him. Of the certain result of such an exposure, and of the
one hope he had, by voluntarily confessing all to the doctor, of
averting his expulsion.
Silk listened to it all with a sneer, and when it was done, replied,
"And you mean to say you've got the impudence to come to me to help to
get you out of a scrape?"
"Please, Silk," said the boy, "I would be so grateful."
"Bah!" snarled Silk, "have you forgotten, then, the nice row you kicked
up in my study a week ago? and the way you've treated me all this term?
because if you have, I haven't."
"I know it's a lot to ask," pleaded the boy.
"It's a precious lot too much," said Silk; "and no one who hadn't got
your cheek would do it!"
And he took up his paper and pencil again, and turned his back on the
boy.
"Won't you do it, then?" once more urged Wyndham.
"Not likely!" rejoined Silk. "If you want favours you'd better go to
your precious friend Riddell; and you can go as soon as you like. I
don't want you here!"
"If you'd only do it," said Wyndham, "I'd--"
"Do you hear what I say?"
"I'd never ask you for the money you borrowed," said the boy quickly.
Silk laughed as he turned once more on his victim, and said, "Wouldn't
you really? How awfully considerate! Upon my word, the generosity of
some people is quite touching. Let's see, how much was it?"
"Thirty shillings," said Wyndham, "and the change out of the post-office
order, two pounds."
"Which makes," said Silk, putting the figures down on his paper, "three
pounds ten, doesn't it? and you think what you ask is worth three pounds
ten, do you?"
"It's worth far more to me," said the boy, "because it's the only thing
can save me from being expelled."
Silk mused a bit over his figures, and then replied, "And what would
happen if I didn't pay you back?"
"I wouldn't say a word about it," cried the boy, eagerly, "if only you'd
let me off the promise!"
"And suppose I told you I consider the promise worth just double what
you do?"
Wyndham's face fell for a moment; he had not dared to write home about
the loss of his last pocket-money, and saw very little chance of raising
the wind for so large an amount again. Yet it seemed his only hope.
"Would that make it all right?" he asked.
"I might think about it," said Silk, with a sweet smile--"under
conditions."
"I don't know how I can manage it," said Wyndham; "but I'll try. And
you won't mind, then, my going to the doctor?"
"What! do you suppose I'm fool enough to let you do it before I have the
money?" exclaimed Silk. "You must have a nice opinion of me!"
It was no use urging further; Wyndham saw he had got all he could hope
for. It was little better than nothing, for before he could get the
money--if he got it at all--the explosion might have come, and he would
be expelled. If only Riddell, now, would wait a little longer!
As the thought crossed his mind he became aware that the captain was
slowly approaching the bench on which he and Silk were sitting. It was
anything but pleasant for the boy, after all that had happened, to be
discovered thus, in close companionship with the very fellow he had
promised to avoid, and whom he had all along acknowledged to be the
cause of his troubles.
His instinct was to spring from his place and either escape or meet
Riddell. But Silk saw the intention in time and forbade it.
"No," said he, with a laugh; "don't run away as if you were ashamed of
it. Stay where you are; let him see you keep good company now and
then."
"Oh, I must go!" exclaimed the boy; "he'll think all sorts of things.
He'll think I'm such a hypocrite after what I promised him. Oh, do let
me go!"
His agitation only increased the amusement of his tormentor, who, with a
view to give the captain as vivid an impression as possible, laid his
hand affectionately on the boy's arm and beamed most benignantly upon
him. It was no use for Wyndham to resist. After all, suspicious as it
might appear, he was doing nothing wrong.
And yet, what _would_ Riddell think?
The captain was pacing the Big in a moody, abstracted manner, and at
first appeared not to notice either the bench or its occupants.
Wyndham, as he sat and trembled in Silk's clutches, wildly hoped
something might cause him to turn aside or back. But no, he came
straight on, and in doing so suddenly caught sight of the two boys.
He started and flushed quickly, and for a moment it looked as if he were
inclined to make a wild dash to rescue the younger boy from the
companionship in which he found him. But another glance changed that
intention, if intention it had been.
His face fell, and he walked past with averted eyes, apparently
recognising neither boy, and paying no heed to Wyndham's feebly
attempted salute.
Before he was out of hearing Silk broke into a loud laugh. "Upon my
word, it's as good as a play!" cried he. "You did it splendidly, young
'un! Looked as guilty as a dog, every bit! He'll give you up for lost
now, with a vengeance!"
Wyndham's misery would have moved the pity of any one but Silk. The new
hopes which had risen within him had been cruelly dashed by this unhappy
accident, and he felt no further care as to what happened to him.
Riddell would have lost all faith in him now; he would appear little
better than an ungrateful hypocrite and impostor. The last motive for
sparing him would be swept away, and--so the boy thought--the duty of
reporting him would now become a satisfaction.