IN WHICH ERNEST HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH HIS UNCLE.
With my resolution still at the highest pitch of firmness, I knocked
at the library door. I expected a storm; it was hardly possible to
avoid one; but I hoped, if I could induce my stern and silent guardian
to speak or to listen, that I might make an impression upon him. There
was no answer to my knock, and I repeated it. Then I heard a stir in
the library, and my uncle opened the door. When he saw me, he was
about to close the door in my face, doubtless regarding my conduct in
knocking at his door as impudent in the highest degree. I was not
disposed to be shut out, and anticipating his purpose, I stepped
nimbly into the room.
"Uncle Amos, I wish to speak with you for a few moments, if you will
be kind enough to hear me," I began, in tones as humble as the veriest
tyrant could have required.
He sat down in his arm-chair, leaned his head upon his hand in such a
way as to cover his face, but made me no reply, either by word or by
sign.
"I would not trouble you if it were not necessary to do so," I
continued. "Will you permit me to tell my story?"
He removed his hand, and gave me an affirmative nod; but it was
evident to me that my presence was the occasion of positive suffering
to him. I knew of no reason why I should be personally disagreeable to
him, and it seemed to me that his aversion was caused wholly by a kind
of obstinacy, which I could not understand.
"I have had a difficulty with Mr. Parasyte; but I was not to blame, as
I can prove by more than half the students in the academy," I
proceeded; and then I rehearsed all the particulars of my affray with
Poodles, on the pier, including the rebellion of the students, and the
confession of the guilty ones.
My uncle may have heard me, and he may not; but he took not the least
notice of me, appearing to be absorbed in his own meditations during
the recital of my wrongs.
"Mr. Parasyte called me into his private office, and informed me that
he had been to see you," I added.
My uncle removed his hand from his face, glanced at me, nodded his
head, which was the first indication he had given that he was
conscious of my presence, after I began to relate my story. The look
that accompanied the nod was anything but a pleasant one. There was
something like malignant satisfaction in the glance that he bestowed
upon me.
"Then you did request Mr. Parasyte to reduce me to subjection, as he
expressed it?"
"I did," replied he, decidedly, as he again uncovered his face, and
nodded to emphasize his reply.
This was hopeful, for I had at least got an answer out of him, though
the reply was cold-blooded and cruel.
"Did you request him to flog me?" I demanded, a little excited by the
fact that my uncle was likely to prove as malignant as the
schoolmaster.
"I did," he added; and his eyes seemed to glow like two coals of fire.
It was not difficult now for me to understand the situation. My uncle
hated me,--why I knew not. I could not reconcile such a feeling with
the indulgence he had always extended to me. I could not see why, if
he hated me, as that fierce glare of his eyes indicated, he had always
allowed me to have my own way, had always given me money without
stint, and had permitted me to go and come when and as I pleased, and
rove at will over the broad and dangerous lake.
I have since learned that this indulgence was perfectly consistent
with hatred, and that the judicious parent, who truly loves his son,
would deprive him of such unhealthy and dangerous indulgences. As he
hated me, so he let me have my own way. Had he loved me, he would have
restrained me; he would have inquired into my conduct when away from
home; and above all, he would not have allowed me to risk my life upon
the stormy lake as I did.
"You _did_ request him to flog me, and without understanding the
merits of the case!" I replied, indignantly.
He nodded again.
"Uncle Amos, I have tried to do my duty faithfully at school, and to
be respectful and obedient to my teachers. This is the first time I
have had any trouble. I say, most solemnly, I was not to blame."
"You were," said my uncle.
"Will you hear the evidence in my favor?"
"No."
"You will not?"
"No."
"What would you have me do?"
"Obey your teacher."
"Mr. Parasyte ordered me to apologize to Poodles."
"Do it then."
"But Poodles confesses that I was not to blame."
"No matter."
"I cannot do it, uncle."
"The master must make you do it," added my uncle, with a sneer.
"He attempted to do so. He began to flog me, and I knocked him down,"
I replied, quietly, but sullenly.
My uncle sprang to his feet, and stared at me with an intensity which
would have made me quail if I had been guilty.
"You struck him!" exclaimed he, trembling with emotion.
"When he attempted a second time to flog me, I hit him on the head
with a heavy ruler, and he fell insensible upon the floor."
My stern guardian rushed furiously across the room, foaming with
passion.
"You villain!" gasped he, pausing before me. "You struck the master?"
"I knocked him down, as I would any other man who insulted me with a
blow," I replied, firmly; for I intended to have my uncle understand
exactly how I felt.
"You are an obstinate whelp!" ejaculated my guardian, who had
certainly found a tongue now.
"All the students think I am right."
"The students! What do I care what they think?"
"They understand the case."
"Humph!" sneered my uncle.
"I see, sir, that I have nothing to expect from you," I continued.
"No!"
"I have only to say that Mr. Parasyte can't flog me. If I were guilty,
I would not resist; but I will fight as long as I have a breath left
against such injustice."
"Very pretty! May I ask what you are going to do with yourself?"
"I don't know yet; only, if I am not wanted here, I won't stay here. I
think I can take care of myself."
"Do you consider this a proper return for all I have done for you?"
asked he, more calmly.
"I don't know what you have done for me. I asked you once something
about my father and mother, and you did not answer me."
"You have no father and mother," he replied, with visible emotion.
"You need not ask any questions, for I will not answer them."
"Did they leave any property for me?" I asked, mildly; and I had
already concluded that they did, or my uncle would not have been so
lavish of his money upon me.
"Property! What put that idea into your head?" demanded he; and he was
more agitated than the circumstances seemed to warrant.
"I have no idea anything about it. I only asked the question."
"It is enough for you to know that I am willing to take care of you,
and pay your expenses, however extravagant they may be, as long as you
behave properly."
"I have always done so."
"No, you haven't! You have resisted your teacher, knocked him down,
killed him for aught I know. You are a bad boy."
It seemed just as though my uncle intended to drive me to desperation,
and compel me to commit some rash act. I could not see why he should
refuse to tell me anything about my father and mother.
"I asked you whether my parents left any property for me. You did not
answer me," I continued.
"I will answer no questions," replied he.
"If they did, it is right that I should know it," I persisted.
"If they did, you will know it when you are of age to receive it."
"I would like to know whether you are supporting me out of your own
property or with my own."
"It doesn't concern you to know, so long as you are supported."
"Yes, it does, and I insist upon knowing."
"I shall answer no questions," replied he, more troubled now than
angry.
"If there is nothing belonging to me, I am very willing to go to work
and support myself. I don't wish to be a burden upon one who cares so
little for me as you do."
"I did not say you were a burden. I have given you all you asked for,
and am willing to do so still."
"I don't wish to have you do so, if what you give me does not belong
to me."
"You are a foolish boy!" said he, impatiently.
"You have hardly spoken to me before for a year; and you never said as
much to me as you have to-night before in all my lifetime."
"It was not necessary to do so."
"Uncle Amos, I am old enough now to be able to think for myself," I
continued, earnestly. "It is time for me to know who and what I am,
and I am going to find out if it is possible for me to do so."
"It is not possible," said he, greatly agitated, though he struggled
to be calm. "What do you wish to know?"
"About my parents."
He walked the room for a moment with compressed lips, as if
considering whether he should tell me what I wanted to know.
"If I have concealed anything from you, it was for your own good,"
replied he, with a desperate effort. "Your father is dead; he died
eleven years ago."
"And my mother?" I asked, eagerly.
"She is a raving maniac in an insane asylum."
This information came like a shock upon me, and I wept great tears of
grief.
"I thank you, uncle Amos, for telling me so much, sad as it is. One
more question and I am satisfied. Did my father leave any property?"
"No," said he.
I fancied that this single word cost him a mightier effort than all he
had said before, though I could not see why it should.
"Where is my mother now?" I asked.
"You were to ask no more questions; and it is not best for you to know
where she is," he answered. "Now, Ernest, I wish you to make your
peace with Mr. Parasyte."
"How make my peace with him?"
"Do what he requires of you."
"I cannot do that; and I will not."
"If you persist you will ruin me," said my uncle, bitterly.
"I don't understand you, uncle Amos."
"Mr. Parasyte owes me a large sum of money."
Here was the hole in that millstone!
"His Institute is mortgaged to me. If there is trouble there, the
property will depreciate in value, and I shall be the loser."
My uncle seemed to be ashamed of himself for having said so much, and
told me to go to bed. I retired from his presence with the feeling
that I must sacrifice myself or my guardian.