THE LOST MINIATURE.
The morning came, and the anxiety which the Doctor and Mrs. Brier had
felt the night before was not removed but rather increased. What to do
for the best was the question preying upon both minds. There was no
escape from the conviction that one of the boys, either by accident or
with evil intent, had taken the missing articles. If by accident, they
would be returned the first thing in the morning, although there would
be no excuse for not having returned them on the previous evening as
soon as the discovery was made; and if with evil intent who was the
culprit?
The Doctor was one of those men who could best bear anxiety
out-of-doors. If anything unusual troubled him, no matter what the
weather might be, he would pace the garden or wander through the
fields, while he thought or prayed himself out of the difficulty.
He was a God-fearing man. I do not mean in the sense in which many
apply this term, turning a good old phrase into a cant expression. He
believed in God, he believed in the Bible, and he believed in prayer.
So, after he had paced the garden in the early morning, long before any
others of the establishment were abroad, he turned into the
summer-house, and there, quiet and alone, he prayed for guidance in his
difficulty.
When breakfast was over the boys began to away to their several rooms
and occupations, but those who had been at the Doctor's on the
previous evening were told separately that he wished to speak with them
in his library. Each was rather startled on arriving to find others
there, and a vague feeling of discomfort prevailed at first. Mrs. Brier
was present, and this added to the mystery, as she was rarely seen in
the library.
"Now, my boys," said the Doctor, when all had assembled, "I want to
take you all into my confidence, and shall be glad, in the interest of
all, if what is now said is kept as much as possible to ourselves. The
matter about which I have called you together is one that has caused me
much anxiety, and I shall be thankful if you can allay my uneasiness.
You will remember that last night Mrs. Brier showed you a casket of
trinkets and curiosities, amongst them a valuable miniature painting
and an antique snuff-box. I am sorry to say that these are missing.
Careful and diligent search has been made for them, but they cannot be
found. Can any of you throw light on the subject? Is it possible that
by accident one of you may have mislaid them, or inadvertently have
carried them away?"
Anxious glances were exchanged from one to the other as each answered
in the negative. An awkward pause followed.
"And now," said the Doctor, "it is my painful duty to ask you
separately whether you know anything whatever about the matter. For the
sake of each, and the honor of all, I charge you to tell me truth as in
the sight of God. Herbert, do you know anything about it?"
"No, sir."
"Marsden, do you?"
"No, sir; nothing whatever. I saw the things and thought I saw Mrs.
Brier put them back in the box."
"Do you know anything, McDonald?"
"I do not, sir."
"Do you, Pemberton?"
"No, sir."
"Do you, Morton?"
Digby stammered and hesitated. The Doctor repeated his question.
"I know nothing for certain, sir. But I--I think--" and he held to the
back of a chair with a very determined clutch as he again hesitated,
and began to speak.
"What do you think, man? Speak out," said the Doctor.
"I think I ought to mention a circumstance, but I shall prefer speaking
to you alone."
"Does it relate to any one present?"
"It does."
"Then I must have it told here. But let me first continue my question
to each one present."
The question went round, and the answer in each case was in the
negative.
"Now, Morton, I must ask you to state what you know of this matter, or
rather what you suspect, and I leave it to your good sense to say only
that which you think it absolutely necessary for me to know."
There was a dead silence. Every eye was turned toward Digby with
intense interest, while he fixed his gaze steadily upon the floor.
"I saw Howard Pemberton putting the miniature in his breast coat-pocket
last evening, sir, when we were in your drawing-room. I said to him,
'I've caught you, have I.' He made no reply to me, but turned away,
very red in the face--"
"It is false--wickedly false," cried Howard, in a passionate burst of
feeling.
"He states it is false," continued Digby, "but I will appeal to Fraser
or McDonald, who saw it, or better still, to Martin Venables, who also
saw it, and made some remark in apology for him!"
"Do you know of anything else, directly or indirectly, that you think
should come to my knowledge?" asked the Doctor.
"Nothing more, sir, except that Pemberton, whose room adjoins mine,
seemed to have something on his mind last night, for he was walking
about in his room in the middle of the night, and I fancied he got out
of the window. This is all I have to say, sir. I said I knew nothing
for certain, and I hope I have not done wrong in telling you this
much."
And now all eyes turned to Howard Pemberton. He stood speechless. He
felt as in a horrible nightmare, and could neither move body nor mind
to break the spell. If he could have known that there was not one in
the room who believed him to be guilty, he would have easily recovered
from the blow; but with his peculiarly nervous temperament, although
conscious of perfect innocence in the matter, he felt that the terrible
insinuations which had been made against him had separated him from
those whom he loved and honored, and he was crushed beneath the weight
of implied dishonor.
Happy is the man who has a friend, and Howard had many, but perhaps
none greater than Martin Venables. Martin knew the peculiarities of
Howard's character better than any one present, and seeing the position
in which he was placed he came forward to vindicate him.
"Dr. Brier, there is not a boy in this school, except Digby, who does
not love and respect Howard Pemberton. I hate to be a tale-bearer, but
I know that for many months he has cherished a great animosity to
Howard, and has taken every opportunity of showing it. The story which
he has now invented is as clumsy as it is false. It is the worst kind
of falsehood, for it has just a shadow of truth in it as regards one
part of the story. When Mrs. Brier showed the miniature, it pleased
Howard, as it does everybody who sees it. He made a remark to me that
it was very much like my cousin, Miss Greenwood, and perhaps you know,
sir, that many boys in the school think her very lovely and amiable.
Howard thought so too, and when he attempted to put the miniature in
his pocket, as Digby untruthfully stated, he merely put it, in fun, to
the place where they say the heart is. It was what any of us might have
done, and, wise or not wise, we would certainly have meant no harm. But
I am quite certain that afterward the portrait passed into the hands of
Alick Fraser, and then into Digby's, and after that it was placed in
the case by Mrs. Brier. I do not say, sir, that Digby Morton has
willfully misrepresented facts for the purpose of getting one who was
once his most intimate school friend into trouble, but I say that if
Howard Pemberton is untruthful or dishonest, I do not believe an honest
boy lives."
The boys were quite excited over Martin's speech--the first set speech
he had ever made--and they greeted it with undisguised enthusiasm.
The Doctor seemed to think that somebody ought to say something
equivalent to "silence in the court" at this display of sentiment,
although in his heart of hearts he would have liked to step forward and
pat Martin on the back for his manly defense of his friend. But an
interruption was made to the proceedings by a tap at the door.
"Can I speak with Mrs. Brier?" said a servant, putting her head in at
the door.
"No, Mrs. Brier is engaged," answered the Doctor, rather sharply for
him.
Servants have a knack of knowing what is going on in a house, and this
servant seemed to be in the secret which had called the little assembly
together, for she would not take the rebuff, but said:
"If you please, sir, I _must_ speak to Mrs. Brier."
So Mrs. Brier left the room for a moment, to return again in company
with the servant.
"What is this all about?" asked the Doctor.
"If you please, sir, this morning, in making the bed Mr. Pemberton
sleeps in, I noticed the ticking loose, and I put my hand in, as I felt
something hard, and I found this snuff-box."
I have read in books about boys who, under some exciting necessity,
have started in an instant from boyhood to manhood, just as I have read
about people's hair in time of trouble turning from black to white in
the course of a night. Howard Pemberton did not spring from boyhood to
manhood at this strange discovery, nor did his hair turn white, but the
words of the servant had a sudden and powerful influence upon him. In a
moment he turned to his accuser and said:
"Digby, there is some vile secret underlying all this, and I don't know
what it is. But I declare to you, solemnly, that I am innocent of this
charge. If you have spoken against me to-day because you thought you
ought to do it, I can't blame you, but if you have done it from any
wrong motive, I hope you'll confess it before evil is added to evil."
But Digby merely shrugged his shoulders, and turning to the Doctor,
said: "Have you anything more you wish to ask me, sir?"
Dr. Brier was fairly nonplussed. The fog grew denser all around him.
Addressing a few words of caution to those who had been summoned to
this the strangest meeting that was ever held in Blackrock School, he
dismissed the boys, ordering Howard and Digby to be kept in separate
rooms until he should arrive at some judgment in the case.