SURPRISES FOR ROY
Henning arrived at the Cuthberton depot at seven in the morning. In
stepping from the sleeper he was surprised to see Ambrose Bracebridge
awaiting him.
"Welcome back, old fellow, to St. Cuthbert's," said Ambrose. "I was
very sorry to hear of your loss. May she rest in peace," and the
gentlemanly boy raised his hat reverently.
"Thank you," said Roy, warmly shaking hands, "thanks. It was very
sudden. Poor little Ethel died a saint if ever there was one."
"I have not forgotten you in your absence. I have the promise of
five Masses for her from the Fathers. I felt sure that would be
pleasing to you."
"Thanks, indeed!" He was touched by his friend's thoughtfulness, and
the remembrance of Ethel brought a big lump into his throat, and for a
moment there was a catching of the breath. "Excuse me, Ambrose. Your
kindness--our sudden loss--my heart is wrenched--her--she--oh! you
know how it is!"
"Yes, yes, I know----"
"And I have come back," said Roy, certainly irrelevantly, "I have come
back under the most favorable conditions with respect to my father."
"Yes?" answered Ambrose, quite ignorant of what the conditions might
be. Roy saw that for all their talks, Bracebridge remembered nothing
of the previous relations between himself and his father. He saw by
his questioning "yes," and by his eyes, which were nothing less than
interrogation points, that his friend was curious to learn more,
although he delicately refrained from asking.
"It's a long story, Brosie, old man. I can't tell it to you now on the
platform here. I'll tell you some time to-day--after we have had
breakfast. I am as hungry as a wolf. Let's go to a hotel and get
breakfast."
"No, the college carriage is outside waiting for you, and breakfast
for four is to be ready by the time we get back."
"For four?"
"Why, yes. Didn't I tell you that Harry Gill and Jack are waiting
outside in the carriage? The ticket man at the gate wouldn't let them
in. I was the least suspicious-looking of the three, I suppose."
"Let's be off, then," said Roy.
Both made a grab simultaneously at Roy's suitcase.
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do," answered Ambrose, keeping hold of it. They both tugged
for a moment or two, much to the amusement of two ladies in an
opposite train who burst out into merry laughter at the friendly
contest.
Warm greetings awaited Roy in the carriage. After the welcoming was
over, and the delicate condolences tendered, Roy leaned over to Gill's
ear and whispered something. Whatever the whispering was about it
ended by Roy putting his finger over his lips as an admonition to
remain silent.
The information conveyed to Gill must have been of a startling nature
for he immediately proceeded to behave as if he were suffering from a
fit. He threw up his heels into Bracebridge's lap, clutched the
carriage strap with one hand and Beecham's coat collar by the other,
and began to scream at the top of his voice. Roy held his sides at the
other's antics. Ambrose guessed the cause of Gill's jubilation, but
Jack Beecham was quite in the dark.
"Here! take this maniac off, or I'll soon be a physical wreck," he
shouted.
"By the way, Ambrose," asked Henning, "what is the great news you
wired you had for me? But first how did the great game come off?"
Then all three in their enthusiasm began to talk at once and
independently of each other. Each described what he considered the
beauties and fine points of the game.
In the midst of this jumble of words, from which Roy managed to pick
out a deal of information about the game, the carriage drove into the
college grounds.
The prefect at once hurried the four into the infirmary building where
a somewhat elaborate breakfast had been prepared for them.
"Get along, boys. Clear out now. These boys are hungry. You can see
Roy after breakfast. There is plenty of time to hear all the news, if
he has any to tell. Now, John, let no boy into the infirmary this
morning without my permission."
"All right, Mr. Shalford. I'll keep them out, sure enough," answered
the kind old fellow who attended to the wants of the sick. This time
he was as good as his word, for as soon as the four were fairly inside
he shut the door and locked it.
During the breakfast--such a breakfast the infirmarian explained he
had to get up once in a while to keep his hand in for convalescents
who had to be coaxed to eat to get strong, an explanation readily
admitted by the four--Henning's three friends told him of the
wind-storm and of the accident to Stockley. They told him how through
Smithers' incoherence of speech they had first believed that Mr.
Shalford had been crushed by the falling oak; how Stockley had been
found beneath the branches, and, finally, how when he had returned to
semi-consciousness he had uttered some very strange words which might
mean nothing at all or a great deal for Henning. Roy, as he gradually
learned the full particulars became very much interested and finally
intensely excited. Was he going to have the wretched affair of the
robbery cleared up at last? Did this boy know who the thief was? Could
he point him out? Would he do so? And what if, after all, his
suspicions about his own cousin should prove correct!
While he was thus pondering, and listening to his friends' suggestions
and information, Mr. Shalford came in.
"Henning," he said, "you may be surprised that I did not let Garrett
go to the depot to meet you. The fact is, these rascals here begged so
hard that I could not find the heart to refuse them, and you know that
the old-fashioned carriage will only hold four. To make amends I will
send Garrett to you at once. He has asked several times to be allowed
to come in, but I refused until you had finished your breakfast."
A minute later Andrew Garrett entered, holding out his hand in
sympathy to Roy, as he walked across the room. There was a wonderful
change in the boy. He looked better than he had looked for months. The
blotches and disfiguring pimples had disappeared. Healthy food,
regular meals, and being much out of doors had effected that. But
there was a change of countenance as well as of face. There was a look
of candor not usually seen there of late. The eyes were steady and had
lost much of their restlessness. There was at this moment a
gratifying air about Garrett which plainly indicated that he wanted to
repair any injustice and wrong which he had formerly done to his
cousin.
Henning was very much puzzled at the change, which was more apparent
to him than to the others who witnessed the meeting.
"Poor little cousin Ethel. Oh, Roy, I'm so sorry. She was such a
charming child!"
Roy looked at him in surprise. Could this be the boy who had done him
so much injury and had kept the secret all these months? What to make
of the tone, the evident look of candor, the change in Garrett, Roy
did not know. Sensible fellow as he was, he made the most of it,
judging that if the present meeting were merely a piece of good acting
on Andrew's part, he would sooner or later find out the true state of
affairs. So he offered his hand to Garrett and it was pressed with
genuine sympathy.
"And how does Aunty bear the shock?"
Roy told him.
"And mother? Did you see my mother?"
"I did, Andrew, and she grieves quite as much as my mother and father.
She sends her love, and Papa sends this with his kindest regards to
his nephew."
Roy gave the sealed envelope, containing the elder Henning's present.
Garrett did not open it at once. He said:
"I have several things I wish to say to you when we are alone. Of
course you have heard by this time all about the accident to
Stockley?"
He then whispered to Roy:
"There's more behind this than you think. Get rid of these fellows for
a little while. I have a lot to say to you."
"I can not just now," Roy whispered back. "You see they are in a way
my guests for the present. To send them away would not only offend,
but it would be very unkind."
"Very well then; as soon as you can be alone in the yard this
morning?"
"All right."
Garrett then joined in the general conversation around the breakfast
table. Roy was much puzzled. He could not understand Andrew at all.
Never during the whole time that Garrett had been with him at St.
Cuthbert's had he acted in so cousinly a manner. Roy wondered whether
the change had been brought about by Ethel's death. Yet unless Andrew
was playing a much deeper game than his cousin gave him credit for
being able to play, his advances--for they were in Roy's estimation
distinct advances--were genuine. He gave up the problem as too hard of
solution--and waited.
His cogitations were soon cut short. The physician came down stairs
from his morning visit to the injured boy.
"No, I do not think the boy will die," they heard him remark to the
infirmarian, "I am sure he will not, although he thinks he is going
to. He'll be all right in a few weeks. What? I told you last
night--two ribs and his arm."
"Can he see any one?" asked the infirmarian.
"He had better be kept quiet for a few days. By the way, he said
something about wanting to see a Troy, or a Joy, or some such
name--and some one else. Who was it, Denning, Heming, Henning--some
such name."
"It's all one person, doctor. It's Roy Henning he wants to see. May he
see him?"
"Yes, I think it would be better to let him see this boy as soon as
he wishes. There appears to be something important that he has to say
which he wants to get off his mind. Yes, let him see this boy--a chum
of his, I suppose. Perhaps it will do him good. Can not do any harm."
"A chum of his! Ugh!" said Roy, _sotto voce_. There was really so
comical a look of disgust on his face that the other boys, who were
watching him closely, burst out laughing. The infirmarian came in:
"The doctor says ye can see the one with a broken arm, though what he
do be wantin' ye for, I dunno. It's sorry I am to be hearing ye lost
your sister, Master Roy, an' sure the Lord'll be having mercy on her."
"Thank you very much, for your kind wishes."
His friends now left him, wishing him all sorts of success in the
interview. He thanked them, but did not go upstairs. Instead, he went
to the window and looked out as if expecting some one. Some time later
his friends were surprised to see him still standing there. Mr.
Shalford thought that by this time the interview must be nearly over.
He, too, was surprised to see Henning gazing out of the breakfast-room
window. The prefect went over to him.
"Why are you not talking with Stockley?" he asked rather sharply.
"For two reasons, sir. I am a little nervous at present. You know how
much depends for me on what that boy will say. I want to be cool, so I
am waiting a little while. Secondly, I do not intend to go there
alone."
"Not go alone! Why! What do you mean? Are you afraid?"
"No, sir. But if this fellow should, and somehow I think he can, say
something to exculpate me, what good would his statement, or perhaps
admission, be to me without witnesses? I should be just where I was
before."
"You are right. You should have witnesses. Whom do you want?"
"Ambrose and Jack and Rob Jones, if you like, sir."
"No; two are enough. I will send Bracebridge and Beecham to you at
once."