COUNSELS AND PROMISES
"My dear lad, it certainly is very strange. You seem, since your
arrival in England, to be surrounded with mysteries."
Ralph was sitting alone with Mr. St. Clive; and the latter, having
questioned him as to how he had got on during his first week at school,
Ralph had told him of his various experiences--of his quarrel with
Horace Elgert, and of the strange midnight episode which had taken
place--Mr. St. Clive listening with interest, and making the remark
that it was very mysterious, as the lad concluded his story.
"It is strange, sir," answered Ralph, "and at first Dr. Beverly seemed
inclined to doubt my story; while Horace Elgert, instead of taking it
seriously, actually said that it was not true, and that I had gone into
the Fifth dormitory on purpose to play some trick with him. I think,
though," he added, "that he only said that to anger me."
"It is very strange," Mr. St. Clive repeated. "And then this other
boy----"
"Charlton, do you mean, sir?"
"Yes. You say that you are sure he was with some man, and that he
denied it?"
"Yes, sir. I asked him if he had been with any one, and he looked quite
frightened."
"That may easily be. I know something of his history, or rather, of the
family's. His father was accused of some crime, and, strangely enough,
Lord Elgert was the prosecutor. A cheque was forged, I believe. Mr.
Charlton managed to escape, but he was never able to come back; and it
was finally said that he was dead. It is quite possible that he has
returned, and that he got into the school to see his son, and went into
the wrong dormitory. That is possible, I say, though I do not think it
likely. He would hardly run such a risk, in my opinion; and more so, as
he could have gone to his wife, and then let her send for the lad."
"I did not think of it being his father," acknowledged Ralph. "I was
thinking of something else."
"Yes?" inquired Mr. St. Clive.
"Cannot you guess, sir? My father is gone, and I know nothing of his
fate. What if this man was the one who met him in Stow Wood. He might
be able to solve the matter."
"He might," was the reply, "but it is not likely. Charlton, as I
remember him, was a timid, shrinking man; that was proved by the way he
took to flight. He would not be likely to do such a thing."
"But he might, sir. Some one must have done it," persisted Ralph. "I
feel as if I ought to watch Charlton, and find out who it was that he
met. I could do it, too! I may not be very clever with books, but I
could do that kind of thing."
"And then?" came the grave question.
And Ralph cried, almost fiercely--
"Can you ask me that, sir? If my father has come to harm, the one who
harmed him must be punished."
"Even though he is your chum's father. Ralph, this is quite natural;
and even beyond that, I do not say that if you could discover the man
who killed your father--supposing that he is killed--he should not be
given up to justice. I only say, 'pause, and be careful.' Remember the
man your chum saw may be his father, and yet may be entirely innocent
of the crime which you naturally desire to have punished. You, in your
eagerness, may deliver an unfortunate man up to justice, and then find
out that he is not the man you seek. And if I can read anything of your
nature, that would be a cause of bitter regret with you for many a long
day."
"It would, sir," acknowledged Ralph readily. "But unless I can find the
man, how can I know the truth?"
"Well, my lad, I feel that I can only advise you to be careful;
and, above all, even in this desire to have your father's assailant
punished, see to it that no motive of revenge actuates you. Remember
that it is written: 'Vengeance is Mine. I will repay, saith the Lord.'
Remember also that it is 'As we forgive them that trespass against us.'"
"But you would not have me let the man go free, sir?" protested Ralph.
"The only thing I seem to have before me is to find out what happened
to my father."
"But not of necessity to help hunt any man down. Besides, Ralph, there
is another thing. You mention that you have again seen the tracks of
that horse. Now, does it not strike you that, if this man is the father
of your chum, and a fugitive from justice, he would be the last person
in the world to be riding about in a trap? That is a very important
thing to remember."
"I never thought of that," the boy acknowledged. And Mr. St. Clive
nodded.
"Precisely; and yet such things, in so important a business, must be
taken into consideration. Now, Ralph, my advice--my earnest advice--is
that you proceed very carefully, and be quite certain that you have
reason for each step before you take it. And one thing more, my
dear boy. It is not well to say that even unravelling the mystery
surrounding your father's disappearance is the chief object of your
life. The chief object should be to become a noble, true man, alike
a blessing to your fellows and an honour to God. Do you remember how
it says in the Bible: 'There is a banner given to thee, that it may
be displayed because of righteousness'? Now, that is a verse I like.
God gives you His standard, and He says not only 'march under it, but
bear it for Me.' Die for the colours of the King, if need be, and fight
always under honour's flag. Ralph, that is my counsel, the best I can
give you, as your true friend. Wait for God to bring the mystery to
light. Do not let revenge be your life's object, for revenge is of the
devil. Let love be your watchword, and honour your banner. Ralph, will
you promise me this?"
"I will, sir," answered the boy, deeply moved. "I will try and be a
good standard-bearer."
"I feel sure of it. Shake hands. I know that I shall have cause to be
proud of your friendship. Now, I must not take up all your time. I know
that Irene is waiting patiently for you, so run and join her, and make
the most of your brief holiday."
And what a delightful holiday it was, in spite of the trouble over
him! It was a splendid thought to think of himself as being a
standard-bearer. And he told Irene all about it; and she, in return,
told him of the young hero who, being wounded, and fearing that the
colours he bore would be taken from him, placed them beneath him, and
lay in silent suffering until the enemy found him and, in pity, sought
to help him. And then she told how he begged so hard that he might not
be moved that they wondered; and when, even against his wish, they
raised his dying form, there they found the colours which he loved, and
which he had guarded so well; and they wrapped them round him and bore
him away. And when he died they buried him with the flag which he had
carried, and gave him all honour for being true man and hero.
It was a fine story, and set Ralph's heart beating more quickly. And
then Irene said that he must be as true, and be her champion, and win
in the battle of right against wrong. And Ralph--well, I do not mind
owning that he kissed her; and seeing that he had been brought up all
his life on the plains, and had never been used to girls' society, that
really was a daring thing to do.
So the holiday was spent, and Sunday passed in quiet and worship. And
then on Monday morning back he went to Marlthorpe College, and the
fight of another week.
And the battle began almost at once, for very soon after his arrival he
was called into the doctor's study, where he found two stern-faced men,
whom he was told were detectives; and they questioned him closely as to
the events of that night when he had seen the man, and even went so far
as to hint that he must have been dreaming and walking in his sleep,
and that made Ralph feel very like losing his temper. Dreaming! As if
he did not know that he had been very wide awake indeed!
And they called Horace Elgert in also, and questioned him as to whether
he had seen anything, or whether he could think of any one likely to
harm him. And Elgert laughed in the most insulting manner.
"I don't believe a word of it!" he said, with seeming frankness. "It is
a silly business, and it had best be forgotten. There is a great deal
too much being made out of it. I suppose that Rexworth wants to pose as
a hero. I told my father of it, and he laughed about it; but he said
that he would ride over this morning and question Rexworth himself."
"I do not want him to question me!" cried Ralph, flushing angrily. And
Elgert laughed again.
"Very likely not; but he will do it, all the same," he replied. And
then Dr. Beverly interrupted them sternly.
"Silence, both of you! I did not tell you to come here to have this
nonsense, but to answer any questions which these gentlemen might wish
to ask you. Back to your classes, both of you, and mind that I have no
trouble with either of you! If you cannot be friendly, keep apart!"
"I am sure that I want to," muttered Elgert, as he went; but he only
spoke loud enough for the words to reach Ralph's ears.
It was very hard to keep cool and pay attention to his work; but Ralph
remembered his promise to his good friends, and he set sternly to the
tasks before him, only to be interrupted an hour afterwards by the
doctor sending for him again; and this time--how hot and angry he came
all in a moment!--it was to be questioned by Lord Elgert, who sat there
as cold, as haughty, and overbearing as ever.
"Now, young man," he said, when Ralph entered, "I want to hear, for
myself, this remarkable story."
Ralph paused a moment. With a strong effort he mastered himself. If
he was a standard-bearer, he must remember to give soft and polite
answers, so he said politely--
"I am afraid that I have little to tell, sir, that I have not told
already; and, unfortunately, it does not seem to be believed."
"Never mind that. Begin at the beginning, and tell me all that
occurred."
So Ralph complied, and Lord Elgert sat listening with frowning face and
watchful eyes; and Ralph could see that he, like his son, really did
believe the story, even though he pretended not to.
"Well, well, doctor," said his lordship, when the tale was told, "I am
inclined to think that it is a case of sleepwalking----"
"But did I put the ladder against the window in my sleep, sir?" asked
Ralph. "The detectives did not think that, nor do you. I have no
interest in inventing such a story; and I have no wish to do anything
to annoy your son, so long as he leaves me alone----"
"I do not think that the boy dreamed it," said the doctor. And Lord
Elgert frowned.
"Hum! Hark, boy! I suppose that it was not your own father, come to see
you, eh?"
Then up started Ralph indignantly, and cried--
"You have no right to insult me like that! Why should you? I know
nothing of you, and yet, upon the only two occasions when we have met,
you have spoken in that way. My father! Why should he come like a thief
at night? He has never done anything to be ashamed of. Never, I say, in
spite of the tale you told. That tale is not true!"
"Each to his own opinion, young man," retorted Lord Elgert drily. "You
take my advice. Attend to your studies, learn all you can, and then go
back to the land you came from; for you will get on best there!"
"Lord Elgert," answered Ralph fearlessly, "you may mean that kindly
or you may not. I neither know nor care. It is your advice, but it is
advice which I shall not take. I have something to do here. I have
to find out what has become of my father, and I have to prove that
your accusation that he is a thief is not true. I am only a boy, Lord
Elgert, and you may laugh at me, but I know that I shall succeed
presently, and when I do perhaps I may also learn the reason for your
disliking me so much."
"What do you mean by that?" shouted Lord Elgert angrily. And Ralph
replied--
"Just what I say!"
Then he turned and asked the doctor if he wanted him any more. And
receiving permission to go, he went back to his class; while Lord
Elgert rode homewards, with black looks and frowning brow.