CONCLUSION
Seated in the drawing-room at Mr. St. Clive's house, an interested
party gathered around Mr. Rexworth to hear his story. And not only
an interested party, but a happy one, for the trouble was gone, and
the sun was shining for all there. It was no wonder that, even before
stories were told, Mr. Rexworth should have said, "Let us all kneel
and thank our Heavenly Father for His great mercy and goodness," nor
that every heart should have been filled with devout gratitude as, with
bent heads, they listened to the words of thanksgiving, for, like the
psalmist of old, they could say, "God hath done great things for us,
whereof we are glad."
And so they sat, while Mr. Rexworth told his story, a story that had
its moral, too, for it revealed how disobedience to a father might
bring sore punishment afterwards.
For, as we now know, Mr. Rexworth was the son of old Lord Stephen, and
in his early days he had been wild and headstrong, and had frequently
disobeyed his father's commands. And in that he had been aided by his
cousin Elgert. For Elgert envied the young heir his position, and hoped
to make a bad quarrel between the father and son.
And he was successful. The quarrel came, and Mr. Rexworth had run away
from home, dropping his name of Stephen, and going away to the wild
plains of Texas, to indulge in the roving life for which he longed.
But he soon found that it was not all pleasure--that hardship and
disappointment followed, and that whether in England or away in wild
lands, the best thing for a man was to be a follower of the Lord Jesus
Christ.
But he did not write to his father, for he believed that he would never
be forgiven. And he met his wife, and married, and Ralph was born;
and then he was content, and put all thoughts of the old home away,
striving to bring his son up as a true Christian, even amidst their
wild surroundings.
But his wife, when she was dying, spoke seriously to her husband, for
she knew the truth, and she said that their boy ought to come to his
own; and so, because she wished it, for the first time Mr. Rexworth
wrote home to his father.
But Lord Stephen was dead, and his nephew reigned in his place; and
Lord Elgert had sent a cold letter back, saying that he did not wish to
have anything to do with a man who had broken a good father's heart,
and that everything had been left to him.
But with that letter there came another, one written by a faithful old
servant, enclosing a will. Lord Stephen had made that will just before
he died, and had entrusted it to his old retainer; so that if ever his
son, whom he had forgiven, should come back, he should have his own
again.
Then Mr. Rexworth had started for England with Ralph, but he had not
told his son anything of the business which took him there; and when at
last they had reached Stow Ormond he had left the boy at the _Horse and
Wheel_ with old Simon, and had started off for Castle Court.
And an angry, disappointed man was Lord Elgert when he found that his
cousin was to take from him everything which he had schemed to gain.
"He had nothing to say," said Mr. Rexworth, "but he looked very strange
as I left--as if he would have liked to kill me. I had told him that
no one knew who I really was, and that my own son was ignorant of the
truth. It was a foolish thing to have done, for it meant that if I were
out of the way, no one would know anything about the business which had
brought me home.
"It was dark and cheerless, and I was anxious to get back to you,
Ralph, so I took the short cut through Stow Wood past the black mere;
and just as I reached the pond I was startled by some one firing at me
from behind a tree. The first shot missed, but the second struck my arm
and broke the bone. It has never been properly set, and has caused me
much pain.
"I must have fainted, for when I recovered my senses I was a prisoner
in a strange place--the very house in which you found me. My cousin's
first intention had been to kill me; but when he found that he had
failed, his courage wavered, and he had me taken to that place and put
that man to guard me. He promised to set me free if I would give him
the will, but that I would not do. I had taken the precaution to leave
that in London with a lawyer I had known in my younger days, and there
it is now.
"Lord Elgert's next offer was to set me free if I would sign away half
the property to him; but that I also refused to do. The man used to
urge him to kill me, but he seemed possessed with the fear that you,
Ralph, would find it out if he did so.
"Then one day when I felt very depressed and ill and on the point of
yielding, I heard your old call, and I answered it, and I knew that you
had in some way got on my track. And Lord Elgert found that out also,
for yesterday he came to take me away to another hiding-place, and I
refused to go. We struggled, and again your call came, and that made
him desperate. The rest of the story you know, my dear boy. And now you
must tell me how you managed to get on my track."
So Ralph told his story, and then Mr. Charlton explained how he had,
whilst hiding in the old ruin, become convinced that Lord Elgert held
some one prisoner in that strange house, and on the very day when
Ralph had gone to take his chum's message, he had stolen out to watch.
Mr. Charlton had seen Ralph go in, and had watched until both Lord
Elgert and his man came out; then, perplexed and fearing foul play,
he had stood there until the flames burst out, and that sight had
dispelled his fear of the dogs and sent him to the rescue.
And then, when the police had arrived and had taken their prisoner
again, Mr. St. Clive had come after him, not only with that diary,
but with the man who had written it, and who confessed that he had
committed the offence at the instigation of Lord Elgert, who had a
spite against Mr. Charlton.
The innocent man was soon set free after that, and was able to rejoin
his wife and his son openly and without any fear.
But Lord Elgert? Ah, that was the one thing that made Mr. Rexworth sad.
He would have forgiven his cousin if he could, much as he had suffered
at his hands, but the law would not allow that. Lord Elgert had been
arrested, and the miserable Horace, together with his partner in
disgrace, Dobson, had run away, and no one knew where they were.
But they were found, for Mr. Dobson set a detective on their track,
and they were brought back, a pair of sorry-looking objects, dirty and
ragged.
Mr. Dobson immediately apprenticed his son to a firm of shipowners,
and sent him off to sea; and Mr. Rexworth, seeing that Horace had no
friend, did the same for his nephew, hoping that in his new life
he would become a true and good man. Ralph would have been friendly
to Horace at their parting, but the proud boy would not accept his
friendship. Later on they heard that he had deserted his ship when it
got to Australia, and after that they heard no more of him.
And so punishment overtook those who had done evil, and patience and
truth reaped their reward at last, as they ever must in the end;
and Ralph Rexworth was the Hon. Ralph Rexworth Stephen amongst his
schoolfellows, for Mr. Rexworth thought that it would do him no harm to
stay at the good doctor's school for a little while before he went to
college.
Yes, he was "the Honourable." Indeed, he had been the Honourable all
the time in the true sense of the word. He did not put on any airs--our
Ralph could not have done that if he had tried--and he and Charlton and
honest old Tom Warren were three of the staunchest chums that ever you
met with--always together, and all three working for the good of the
Fourth; so that when they were promoted to the Fifth, Mr. Delermain
said that it was one of the greatest losses he had received, and that
the best influences in his class had all been taken away together.
"But," some of my readers may ask, "did Ralph Rexworth win the Newlet?"
I declare that I had nearly forgotten that. He did win it; and it will
not be a bad idea to finish the story by having a peep at him when he
received it.
Of course, that was on breaking-up day. What a lovely day that always
is, especially when you know that you have a good report to take home,
and some prizes to carry away with you.
The great hall at Marlthorpe was decorated with flags, and crowded with
visitors; while on the platform, which had been constructed at one
end, all the boys were gathered, class by class, and in the middle of
them was the Head's chair, and the masters' seats, and a place for the
speakers--and there was Mr. Rexworth among the speakers!
Well, there they all were; and the Head read his report; and they all
clapped and shouted at the part where it said that for the second year
in succession, Marlthorpe had the honour of carrying off the Newlet.
"Good old Rexworth!" shouted one boy. And the Head had to cry order
sharply; whereat Jimmy Green nudged Tinkle and said "Shut up, you
silly!" so it must have been Tinkle who shouted.
And then there were the speeches, and then the recitations; and Tinkle
and Green were most wonderfully impressive in the quarrel between
Brutus and Cassius--only just at the part where Brutus had to say "Take
this dagger," he found he had no dagger with him; and Cassius said very
rudely, and quite out loud, so that every one could hear it--
"You silly owl! I knew you would forget it; and I made such a lovely
one, with silver foil for a blade."
"Imagine the dagger," whispered Mr. Rexworth, his face red with
laughter. And the dagger being imagined, the quarrel went on, and was
made up in the most approved fashion.
And then, recitations over, there came a short pause--an impressive
pause, during which small juniors pushed back their hair, and arranged
collars and ties, and tried to look irreproachable, for prizes were
coming--prizes!
They began with the juniors first. That is a wise plan, because, having
got their share, they are more likely to sit still while the upper
classes are being dealt with. The juniors! And every one laughed and
clapped as the little fellows walked up to the Head, so stiff and
awkward, and saluted for all the world like penny dolls worked by a
string, and having clutched their prizes and bobbed to the audience,
scuttled back to their seats to have their immediate neighbours bend
enviously over that lovely book, and take hurried glances at the
pictures.
The middle classes--that is the Upper Third and Lower Fourth--next.
With them we have nothing to do, beyond saying that both Tinkle and
Green were amongst the prize-winners and that almost before they had
got back to their seats, they had challenged each other to mortal
combat, because each said his book was better than the other's.
Then the seniors--the Upper Fourth--Warren and Charlton. And each of
them got clapped and cheered, as they richly deserved to be.
And then Ralph Rexworth Stephen--how strange it sounded to hear him
called that!--and such a burst of cheering and "Brave old Ralph!" and
"Buck up, Ralph!" Well, the Head smiled; and for once Ralph looked
quite foolish and nervous, and as if he would have liked to cry--it was
so good to feel that all his schoolmates respected him!
But his prize given, the Head took up a little case by his side and
took from it a gold medal with blue ribbon attached to it. The Newlet
Gold Medal, won for Marlthorpe College by Ralph!
Talk of cheering then! It almost deafened one. And--those boys had been
plotting together--Warren nodded and winked; and Charlton dived down
and got something from beneath the form; and Irene suddenly appeared at
Ralph's side with a tiny little laurel wreath, such as they crowned the
heroes with in the olden days, when men worked for honour and not for
gold; and while the people laughed and clapped she put it on Ralph's
head, and at that moment Tom Warren and Charlton held up a great
flag--Old England's Union Jack. They had thought all this out, mind
you--the sly fellows they were; and Kesterway, the senior monitor of
the school, shouted at the top of his voice--
"Now then, fellows! Three times three for the Honourable Ralph, while
he stands under Honour's Flag!"
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"
"And a whole holiday to-morrow!"
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"
And when no one was looking--a kiss from Irene for her hero!
THE END