So it was decided, and when Thorndyke had once decided, he was ready,
and an early day was fixed for his first morning at Halliday’s before
the week was past.
“Why, hallo, old fellow, if this isn’t about the jolliest go! We’ll
have the old store all in the family yet!” was Aleck’s greeting, so
joyous that it didn’t stop to be elegant; and a “jolly go” it was, as
far as he could possibly help to make it so. Thorndyke could never make
a mistake, in his view; and as to teaching him, that was only letting
him see once how a thing must be done, and he knew it as well as his
teacher. As for Thorndyke, he always felt that the sun shone, and
everything was right, as soon as Aleck came in. All went on as gayly as
it could, and by the time a year had passed, nobody thought the store
was quite right if Thorndyke was absent for a day. Mr. Halliday missed
something, he could not tell what; the customers wanted to know what
had become of “the little fellow;” and Aleck felt as if he were in
imminent peril of some catastrophe, for, paragon as Thorndyke thought
him, he had his one fault, which horrified Uncle Ralph, and humiliated
himself: he _did_ now and then forget something very important to
be remembered, and Thorndyke had not been long in the store before
he established himself as guardian over this possibility, and had
already saved Aleck half a dozen times when just “on the brink” of some
predicament or other.
But the absences came very seldom, only here and there when the pain
was too bad for a day, and then he was back again: sometimes so out of
sight that only a little rustling told he was there; sometimes just
coming into view above a showcase, and sometimes, again, mounting a
little step which had been run along for him just inside the counter,
and which brought him high enough to wait upon customers conveniently.
It made every one start at first to see those great, brilliant eyes,
the high, white forehead, and the delicate features, looking over at
them, when they could scarcely see what they belonged to. And every
one that knew much of such things could read in the wistful eyes
and patient smile a good deal of what had come into them after that
dreadful day a year ago, with still a little change. The pain was
still there; he knew he should never be like other people, but he was
bearing it as a brave soldier should, and he was glad other people were
not like him, and he should learn to be useful to them, yet.
So another year went on, and another examination-day was coming at the
professor’s, and Tom Haggarty came in the day before to talk about
it with Aleck, though Aleck had taken good care to hush him up when
Thorndyke came within hearing.
“It’s just as well not to say anything about that before Thorndyke,” he
said; “it isn’t likely to bring very pleasant reminiscences to him!”
“That’s a fact,” said Tom; “I shouldn’t think he’d ever want to hear of
the school again as long as he lives; and it’s a horrid shame, too, and
always will be; and I always feel as if I had something to do with it,
though I never could tell how. But wont you come down? We shall have a
high old time, and it’s the last but one for me. You know I’m through
next year.”
“You’ve done well,” said Aleck. “You’re a little shaver to be fitted
for college.”
“Little’s nothing,” said Tom. “I was thirteen last fall, and I shall be
almost fifteen when I step off. It has seemed for ever and a day to me
since I first saw the professor.”
“But that’s too young; you wont think of entering right away, will you?”
“I don’t know,” said Tom. “I may have to wait a bit, but I sha’n’t know
how to; if it only wasn’t for being a freshman, and the hazing, and all
that. I don’t see how a fellow is ever to get through with that part
of it, but I suppose I’ve got to be hazed wherever I go. If I can live
through it, ’twill be better than to be shut up in a store all my life.
I don’t see how you make it go, with such a smooth face.”
“Don’t you?” said Aleck, laughing; “come and try it a while, and
perhaps you’ll see.”
“No, thank you,” said Tom, “I should hate it so that they would turn me
off in a very short time. It’s hard enough to make a fellow’s way in
the world if you let him take the way he likes best, and I’m thankful
enough I’ve got the promise ahead for all the study I can do for the
next eight or ten years. I shall have to strike out for myself then,
and it will be tough enough, I suppose, but I don’t mean to worry
myself about that till the time comes. Come down to-morrow, wont you?”
Tom went off, and Aleck soon followed towards home, for it was his
hour to go to tea. He walked quickly, for he begrudged every moment
lost on the way, and was soon near the house, with some thoughts
running on that came up once in a while, and which went to make up the
only secret ever kept between himself and Nelly. Tom was right about
business. To be sure, his own came nearer to being professional than
almost anything, and there was some comfort in helping to save people’s
lives, if he did only come in as second fiddler. But his dream of a
profession! Neither Uncle Ralph nor Nelly should ever have a suspicion
of the sacrifice he was making. Why should they? If there didn’t happen
to be money enough for him to study on, it was no fault of theirs; and
if Uncle Ralph could take any pleasure in having him in the store, why,
he need not think the favor was all on that side; he had something to
be thankful for himself.
But what was that sound behind him? A horse’s hoofs flying wildly up
the pavement, and wheels swaying from one side to the other of the
street! He turned, and one glance was enough to show him what was
happening, and that he had better look out for himself while there was
time. It was Tom Haggarty’s father and the horse he was accustomed to
drive quietly past on his way home every night; but in some way the
animal had become terrified and altogether beyond his control, and
was dashing wildly up the road, and aiming now directly for the spot
where Aleck stood. Aleck had just time to spring aside and mount his
doorstep with a flying leap when the wheels struck the curbstone, the
horse’s hoofs clattered on the sidewalk, there was a crash, a plunge,
an overthrow, and in another moment the horse had cleared himself from
the carriage, and was dashing madly on, while his owner lay senseless
on the pavement.
In an instant a group had gathered about the fallen man, but Aleck was
first among them, raising his head and searching hastily for his pulse.
“All right so far,” he said; “he’s breathing yet, but--” and he glanced
quickly towards the window. Nelly was standing there, and answered the
look with a beckoning signal.
“Lend a hand here, will you?” said Aleck; “we’ll get him inside and
then see what’s to be done next.”
They lifted him, hardly believing Aleck that he was still alive, and
carrying him in, laid him on the sofa to which Nelly pointed.
“Is he alive, Aleck?”
“Yes, his pulse is beating.”
“Then a doctor, and the nearest one. Remember what a friend he was to
papa!”
“Not so much the nearest one, as the best one,” thought Aleck as he
sped away. “I’ll have Dr. Thorndyke here, if he can be found, and I
think it’s just the time Jet is most likely to be standing at the door.”
Yes, there was Jet, the reins thrown over his back, and still panting
after his dash into town from a visit a mile outside; the doctor had
just closed the front-door behind him, and it took but a moment for
Aleck to find him and tell his errand.
For the first time in his life there was a moment when the doctor
didn’t care a fig about what was wanted, compared to some other
considerations. He should see Nelly Halliday in her own house at last,
after all this time that Thorndyke had been having it all to himself,
without the slightest appreciation of what it was!
But only an instant; at the next he and Aleck were in the chaise, and
one more brought them to where the shattered carriage still lay before
the door.
“Isn’t that enough to bring a dead man to life!” thought the doctor
as he stepped into the room. There was the same face he had seen two
years ago smiling from the conservatory-window at Thorndyke, the same
soft eyes, the same rippling sunlight in her hair, just as he had
remembered them all this while, only this time bending over the still
motionless form of her fathers friend, and watching anxiously for some
sign of returning consciousness.
But there was no time for ceremony.
“Here is Dr. Thorndyke, Nelly,” said Aleck, and with a quick smile of
recognition she stepped aside and let the doctor come close to his
patient.
“Ah! Possibly _she_ recollects, too!” thought the doctor. “But pshaw!
there’s nothing to be thought of just here but this poor fellow,” and
he plunged into the examination of his patient.
Not a word was spoken for a few moments, except as the doctor asked for
what he wanted.
“A wine-glass, please,” and Nelly handed it to him with a quick,
noiseless movement.
But when he had given the restorative and was waiting a moment for its
effect, she spoke,
“Is it so very bad, doctor? Oh, I hope you can say it is not!”
“It is pretty bad, I am afraid. If we cannot succeed in improving
things in a few moments, I think Aleck had better call a carriage and
get him home as soon as possible. This has been something of a shock to
you already, Miss Halliday.”
The remedies seemed of no avail; only a low, heavy breathing and
flitting pulse told there was any life remaining, and at a sign from
the doctor Aleck disappeared. It was but a few moments until he
returned with the carriage, but it seemed hours to Nelly as she watched
the doctor trying one remedy after another, and all equally in vain.
The doctor did not tell her he was almost sure it would be so before
he began; he went on as quietly as if there were more hope, with a few
cheerful words now and then, and at last Aleck came with the carriage.
“You have been very kind, doctor,” she said, when Mr. Haggarty was
placed inside the carriage and the doctor was preparing to go with him.
“I take it almost as if it were done for papa, they were such friends.
You’ll come again, will you not, some brighter day, and let us thank
you?”
The doctor answered with one of those quick looks in her face which
Thorndyke knew so well.
“_Some_ one ought to come very soon and see how you are,” he said.
“This has been rather trying for you, Miss Halliday.”