afterward that I really didn't know what his plan was; but I don't think
he heard what I said, for he went on in a low tone, as if he were
talking to himself: "Suppose he gets furiously angry, and pitches into
me before those low fellows,--you never know what Phil's going to say
when he gets mad,--and _will not_ come home with me, what'll I do
_then_? It's a risk. And if this plan fails, I don't know what else to
do. Had I better just let things drift along as they are until we get in
the country, and then speak to him? I _dread_ a row before that crowd;
they'd just set him up against me. And yet--a week more of nights to
come home as he did last night, and the night before that--_ought_ I to
let that go on? What would _she_ say to do?"
He stood with his head bent, thinking,--his hat and cane in one hand,
and holding on to the stone newel-post with the other. And as we waited
the gay strains of Nora's waltz came to us through the windows; since
that night I just hate to hear her play that piece.
Presently Felix looked up at me with the faintest little smile. "I came
pretty near asking you to write me down a coward, Jack," he said; "but
I'm all right again. Now for your part of this affair: If Phil will come
back with me, as I hope, you'll have to make your way home alone,
without letting him know of your being there. Try and manage it. If he
gets ugly, and will _not_ leave that crowd, why, then we--you and I--'ll
have to travel back as we went. You must judge for yourself, Rosebud,
whether to go, or to stay for me; I'll have enough to do, you know, to
manage Phil. Apart from that, have as little to do in the matter as
possible; ask no questions, speak to no one, and see and hear no more
than you can help. All right?"
"Yes," I answered quickly, "and I only wish I could do more for
you, Fee."
Felix put his hand on my shoulder for a rest, as he usually did when we
walked together. "You've been a real comfort to me, Jack, since Nannie
went away," he said. I tell you that meant _lots_ from him, and I knew
it; I just put up my hand and squeezed Fee's fingers as they rested on
my coat; then we started off.
On Fee's account we walked very slowly; but after a while we came to a
house with a very low stoop,--just a step or two from the ground. There
were handsome glass doors to the vestibule, and the rather small hall
was brilliantly lighted up. I fancied that the man who opened the door
looked at me as if he thought I had no business there; but Felix marched
right by him and stepped into the elevator, and of course I followed.
"Mr. Whitcombe," said Fee; and then I knew that we were in the apartment
house where Chad has his "bachelor quarters."
"Turn to your left," said the elevator man, as he let us out. We did so,
and just as we got opposite the door with the big silver knob and old
bronze knocker that Chad had told us he brought from Europe, it opened,
and some one came out. Well, truly, he didn't look any older than
fifteen,--two years older than I am, mind you,--but if he didn't have
on a long-tailed evening coat, an awfully high stand-up collar, and
a tall silk hat! You can't think what a queer figure he was,--like
a caricature.
Before he could shut the door, Felix lifted his hat, and then put out
his hand quickly. "Allow me," he said politely; and the next moment we
were in Chad's hall, with his front door closed behind us.
At the other end of this hall was a room very brightly lighted; the
portière was pushed almost entirely aside, and we could see some young
fellows seated round a table. Nearly all had cigars or cigarettes in
their mouths,--Phil, too; the room was just thick with smoke, and they
were playing cards.
"Sit where they can't see you," Fee whispered to me; "and if you find
Phil will go home with me, just slide out without letting him know of
your being here. Oh, Jack, if I can _only_ succeed!" He gave my hand a
little squeeze--though it was a warm evening, his fingers were cold--and
then walked up the hall and stood in the doorway of Chad's room.
"Hullo! _you!_ Oh--aw--come in--aw--glad to see you! Take a chair," Chad
said, in a tone of voice that told he was taken all aback; while Phil
was so startled that he dropped his cigarette and called out roughly,
"What the mischief are _you_ doing here?"
Of course they all looked at Felix; but he answered carelessly, "Oh, I
thought I'd accept a long-standing invitation,"--with a little bow
toward Chad,--"and drop in for a while."
"Oh, certainly, certainly--aw--glad to see you!" exclaimed Chad.
"Who's with you?" demanded Phil; but Fee didn't answer him: he just went
forward and took the place that one of the fellows made between himself
and Phil. And then Chad began introducing Felix to the others.
From where I sat on the hat-rack settle,--it was the most shielded place
in the hall, and near the door,--I had a full view of the people sitting
on one side of the table, and particularly of Felix and Phil, who were
almost directly under the glare of the light. Fee's face was as white as
marble, except a red spot on each cheek, and there was a delicate look
about his eyes and temples, and round his mouth, that I hadn't noticed
before. Somehow his fine, regular features and splendid, broad white
forehead made me think of the head of the Young Augustus that the
Unsworths have.
But Phil certainly didn't look like any marble statue; his face was very
red and cross, and he was scowling until his eyebrows made a thick black
line above his eyes. He was disagreeable, too,--rough and quarrelsome,
something like that night when he came home so late, and hurt my
feelings. When, in reply to an invitation from Chad, Felix said he would
join the game, Phil sung out in a kind of ordering tone, "What's the
sense of spoiling the fun for everybody? You know nothing about cards;
why don't you look on?"
"Because I prefer playing," answered Fee, smiling; "it's the quickest
and surest way of learning, I believe,"--with a glance round the
company. "What are the stakes?"
He drew a handful of money from his pocket, and laid it before him on
the table.
"Don't make an ass of yourself, Felix!" Phil exclaimed angrily,
laying a hand right over the little pile of silver. "We're not
fooling here; we're playing in dead earnest, and you will lose
every cent of your money."
Some of the fellows snickered, and one called out sharply, "Look
out what you're saying, Rose."
I saw the red spots on Fee's cheeks grow brighter. "I _am going_ to
play," he said quietly, but looking Phil steadily in the eyes; "so
please don't interfere."
"Evidently you've never learned that 'consistency is a jewel'!" Phil
retorted with a sneer. I suppose he was thinking of what Fee had said
that evening on the stoop.
But Felix only answered good-naturedly, "Oh, yes, I have; that used to
be one of our copy-book axioms," and then they all began to play.
Well, Phil's face was a study,--it grew blacker and blacker as the game
went on, and Fee kept losing; and he got very disagreeable,--trying to
chaff Felix, almost as if he wanted to make him mad. But Fee just
turned it off as pleasantly as he could. Those fellows made it ever so
much harder, though; they got off the _silliest_ speeches, and then
roared with laughter over them, as if they were jokes. And, in a sly
kind of way, they egged Phil on to quarrel with Fee,--laughing at all
his speeches, and pretending that they thought Phil was afraid of
Felix. And Chad joined in, I could hear his affected laugh and drawl
above all the others; I felt how that must cut Fee!
There were some decanters and glasses on a side table, and every now and
then Chad urged his friends to drink, and he would get up and wait on
them. Felix refused every time, and Phil did too at first, until those
common fellows began to twit him about it,--as much as saying that he
was afraid to take anything 'cause Fee would "go home and tell on him."
What did Phil do then--the silly fellow! 'twas just what they
wanted--but snatch up a glass and swallow down a lot of that vile stuff!
Well, I was so _mad_ with Phil! I'd have liked to go right in and punch
him. Felix never said a word ('twouldn't have done the least good,--Phil
can be like a mule sometimes); he just sat there with his lips pressed
tight together, looking down at the cards he held in his hands.
After that Phil's face got awfully red, and how his tongue did run! Real
ugly things he said, too, and perfectly regardless who he said them to.
And those fellows got _very_ boisterous, and began again trying to tease
our boys. I was _so_ afraid there'd be a row; and there surely would
have been, if Felix hadn't just worked as he did to prevent it. I tell
you now, it was awfully hard to sit out there in that hall and hear
those fellows carrying on against my brothers,--you see I was so near I
couldn't help it, I just _had_ to hear everything,--and not be able to
take their part.
Fee kept getting whiter and whiter, the spots on his cheeks redder and
redder; and by and by such a tired look came in his face that I got real
worked up. I felt as if I _must_ go in and just pitch right into those
fellows. Almost before I knew it, I'd got up and gone a step or two in
the hall, when suddenly Phil dashed his cards down on the table, and
got on his feet. "I'm going home!" he declared. "Are you coming?"
turning to Felix.
"You sha'n't go!" "Oh, _don't_ go!" "You've _got_ to finish the game,"
several called out. But Phil just repeated doggedly, "I'm going home!
Are you coming or not, Felix?"
This was just what Fee wanted,--I knew how glad and thankful he must
feel. But all he said was, "Yes, I'll go with you, if our host will
excuse us," rising as he spoke and nodding his head toward Chad.
Those unmannerly things burst out laughing, as if this were a great
joke; and with a smothered exclamation, Phil started for the door,
knocking over a chair as he went.
Well, if you had seen me scoot down that hall and out of the door! I
simply _flew_, and barely got round the corner in the shadow, when Phil
and Felix came along. Phil looked like a thundercloud, and instead of
leaning on his arm, Fee just had hold of a piece of Phil's sleeve. They
marched along in dead silence, and got into the elevator.
I hung around a little, until I was sure they were out of the way,
then I went down; the elevator man looked harder than ever at me,--I
suppose he wondered why I hadn't gone with Fee,--but I pretended I
didn't notice.
I'd never been out very late alone before, and at first it seemed queer;
but I hurried, so that I soon forgot all about that. You see I wanted to
get home before the boys did, and yet I had to look out that I didn't
run across them.
I hadn't thought of the time at Chad's; but we must have been there a
good while, for when I got to the house the drawing-room windows were
closed, and so was the front door. I don't know what I'd have done if
cook hadn't come to close the basement door just as I got to our stoop,
and I slipped in that way. "Master _Jack_!" she cried out, holding up
her hands in horror; "a little b'y like you out late's this! What'd your
pa say to such doin's, an' Miss Marston? An' there's Miss Nora gone to
bed, thinkin' it's safe an' aslape ye are."
"Oh, hush, cook! it's _all_ right. Don't say anything; please don't," I
said softly; then I let her go upstairs ahead of me.
The drawing-room was all dark, and the light in the hall was turned down
low. The house was very quiet,--everybody had gone to bed; and after
thinking it over, I made up my mind I'd wait downstairs and let the boys
in before they could ring,--I forgot that Phil had taken possession of
papa's latch-key, and was using it. I sat on the steps listening, and
what d'you think? I must have fallen asleep, for the first thing I knew
there were Phil and Felix in the hall, and Phil was closing the front
door. "Oh, I see,--as usual, our gentle Rosebud's to the front,"
exclaimed Phil, still keeping his hand on the knob of the door; "all
right, then he can help you upstairs," and he turned as if to go out.
"What!" Fee cried out in a sharp, startled voice, "you are _never_ going
back to that crowd!"
"That's just what I _am_ going to do," answered Phil; his voice sounded
thick and gruff. "Shall I give your love?"
Felix caught him by the arm. "_Don't_ go, Phil," he pleaded; "_don't_ go
back to-night, _please_ don't. We've had enough of them for one evening.
Come, let's go upstairs. Won't you? I have a good reason for what I'm
asking, and I'll explain to-morrow."
Phil came a step or two forward, shaking Fee's hand off. "Look here!" he
said sharply, "this thing might's well be settled right here, and once
for all. I'm a man, not a child, I'll have you to understand, and I'm
not going to be controlled by you. Just remember that, and don't try any
more of your little games on me, as you have to-night, for I _will not_
stand 'em! The idea of your coming up there among those fellows and
making such an ass of yourself--"
"The asinine part of this evening's performance belongs to you and your
friends, not to me," broke in Felix, hotly,--Phil's tone was _so_
insolent. "And there are a few things that _you_ might as well
understand, too," he went on more calmly. "If you continue to go to
Chad's, I shall go, too; if you make those fellows your boon companions,
they shall be mine as well; if you continue to drink and gamble, as
you've been doing lately, and to-night, I will drink and gamble, too. I
mean every word I am saying, Phil. It may go against the grain at first
to associate with such cads as Chad and his crowd; but perhaps that'll
wear away in time, and I may come to enjoy what I now abhor. As these
low pleasures have fascinated you, so they may fascinate me."
"If you _ever_ put your foot in Chad Whitcombe's house again, I'll make
him turn you out," cried Phil, in a rage, shaking his finger at Felix.
"Why, you donkey! less than three months of that sort of life'd use you
up completely. I'll fix you, if you ever undertake to try it; I'll go
straight to the _pater_,--I swear I will."
"No need to do that, old fellow," Fee said, in _such_ a loving voice!
"Just drop that set you've got into, and be your own upright, honourable
self again, and you shall never hear another word of such talk out of
me. But," he added earnestly, "I _cannot_, I will not stand seeing you,
my brother, my chum, our mother's son"--Fee's voice shook--"going all
wrong, without lifting a finger to save you. Why, Phil, I'd give my very
life, if need be, to keep you from becoming a drunkard and a gambler.
_Don't_ go back to those fellows to-night, dear old boy; for--for _her_
sake, _don't_ go!" Felix was pleading with his whole heart in his voice,
looking eagerly, entreatingly up at Phil, and holding out his hands
to him.
My throat was just filling up as Fee spoke,--I could almost have cried;
and I'm sure Phil was touched, too, but he tried not to let us see it.
He sort of scuffled his feet on the marble tiling of the hall, and
cleared his throat in the most indifferent way, looking up at the gas
fixture. "Perhaps I will drop them by and by," he said carelessly, "but
I can't just yet,--in fact, I don't want to just yet; I have a reason.
And that reminds me--I _must_ go back to-night. Now don't get _silly_
over me, Felix; there's no danger whatever of my becoming a drunkard or
a gambler,--nice opinion of me you must have!--and I'm quite equal to
taking care of myself. As I've told you several times before, I'm a man
now, not a child, and I will _not_ have you or anybody running round
after me. Just remember that!" As he spoke, he turned deliberately to
go out.
Then Fee did a foolish thing; he ought to have known Phil better, but
he was so awfully disappointed that I guess he forgot. In about one
second--I don't know how he _ever_ got there so quickly--he had limped
to the door, and planted himself with his back against it. His face was
just as _white_! and his lips were set tight together, and he held his
head up in the air, looking Phil square in the eye.
A horrid nervous feeling came over me,--I just _felt_ there was going to
be trouble. I stood up on the steps quickly, and called out, "Oh, boys,
_don't_ quarrel! Oh, please, _please_ don't quarrel!" But Phil was
talking, and I don't believe they even heard me.
"Get away from that door,--I'm going out!" Phil commanded.
Not a word answered Fee; he just stood there, his eyes shining steadily
up at Phil through his glasses.
"Do you hear me?" Phil said savagely. "Get--out--of--the--way. I don't
want to hurt you, but I am _determined_ to go out. Come,--move!"
He stepped nearer Felix, with a peremptory wave of his hand, and
glowered at him. But Fee didn't flinch. "No," he said quietly, but in
just as positive a tone as Phil's, "I will _not_ move." Then, suddenly,
a sweet, quick smile flashed over his face, and he threw his hands out
on Phil's shoulders as he stood before him, saying, in that winning way
of his, "I'm not a bit afraid of _your_ ever hurting me, old
Lion-heart."
I heard every word distinctly, but Phil didn't; in his rage he only
caught the first part of what Fee said, and with a sharp, angry
exclamation he shoved Felix violently aside, and, hastily opening the
door, stepped into the vestibule.
Fee was so completely taken by surprise--poor old Fee!--that he lost his
balance, swung to one side with the force of Phil's elbow, striking his
back against the sharp edge of the hall chair, and fell to the floor.
I can't tell you the awful feeling that came over me when I saw Fee
lying there; I got _wild_! I dashed down those steps and into the
vestibule before Phil had had time to even turn the handle of the
outer door, and, locking my hands tight round his arm, I tried to
drag him back into the hall. "Come back," I cried out; "come
back--oh, come back!"
"Hullo! what's happened to you,--crazy?" demanded Phil, giving his arm a
shake; but I hung on with all my weight. And then I said something about
Felix; I don't remember now what it was,--I hardly knew what I was
saying,--but, with a sharp cry, Phil threw me from him and rushed back
into the hall.
When I got to him, Phil was kneeling by Felix, with his hand on his
shoulder, gently shaking him. "Fee, _Fee_!" he exclaimed breathlessly,
"what's the matter? Are you hurt? Are you, Fee? Oh, _tell_ me!" But Fee
didn't answer; he just lay there, his face half resting on the arm he
had thrown out in falling; his glasses had tumbled off, and his eyes
were closed.
In an instant Phil had rolled him over on his back on the hall rug, and
I slipped my arm under his head. Fee looked _dreadfully_,--white as
death, with big black shadows under his eyes; and such a sad, pitiful
expression about his mouth that I burst out crying.
"Oh, hush, hush!" Phil cried eagerly; "he's coming to himself. Oh, thank
God! Stop your crying, Jack,--you'll frighten him."
But he was mistaken; Fee wasn't coming to,--he lay there white and
perfectly still. Oh, how we worked over him! We took off his necktie and
collar, we poured water on his forehead, and fanned him, and rubbed his
hands and feet with hands that were as cold as his own, and trembling.
And Phil kept saying, "Oh, Jack, he'll soon be better,--don't you think
so? _don't_ you, Jack? Oh, surely, such a _little_ fall couldn't be
serious! he _couldn't_ have struck himself on that chair,--see, it's
entirely out of his way," with such a piteous pleading in his eyes and
voice that I hadn't the heart to contradict him.
Nothing that we did had any effect; Fee still lay unconscious, and there
was a pinched look about his features, a limp heaviness about his body,
that struck terror to our hearts. "Oh, isn't this _awful_!" I sobbed.
Then all at once I thought of that day I found Felix lying on the
floor,--could this be an attack like that, only worse? His words,
"What'll the _next_ one be!" flashed into my mind, and I burst out
eagerly, "Oh, Phil, call somebody--go for the doctor--quick, quick, oh,
do be _quick_! The doctor will know what to do--he can help him--call
nurse--oh, call _somebody_!"
But Phil suddenly dropped Felix's hand that he'd been rubbing, and
bending down laid his ear on Fee's chest over his heart. I shall never
forget the awful horror that was in his white face when he lifted it and
looked at me across Fee's body. "Jack," he said in a slow, shrill
whisper, that just went through my ears like a knife, "Jack, it's no
use; Fee is--"
But I screamed out before he could say that dreadful word,--a loud
scream that rang through the house and woke the people up.
In a confused sort of way--as if I had dreamed it--I remember that Nora
came flying down the stairs in her dressing-gown and bare feet, and
nurse hurrying behind her, both crying out in a frightened
way,--something like, "Oh, _lawkes_! what _have_ them boys been doin'?"
and, "Oh, boys, _boys_! what _is_ the matter?"
But Phil's answer stands out clear,--I can hear it every time I let
myself think of that awful night. He had pushed me aside, and was
sitting on the floor with Fee's body gathered in his arms, Fee's
face lying against his shoulder. He looked up at Nora; his dry,
white lips could hardly utter the words. "Fee is dead," he said;
"I have killed Felix!"
XX.
A SOLEMN PROMISE.
TOLD BY JACK.
For a little while there was a dreadful commotion down there in the
hall. Hannah and cook had come, too, by this time, and everybody was
crying, and rushing about, and all talking at once,--telling everybody
else what to do. Poor Nonie was awfully frightened; at first she
couldn't do a thing but cry, and I was just as bad,--I'd got to that
pitch that I didn't care who saw my tears.
But nurse kept her head splendidly; generally she gets all worked up
over the least little sickness, but this time she kept cool, and told us
what to do.
"Don't talk so foolish, Master Phil!" she exclaimed sharply, when
Phil said that awful thing about Fee. "Ain't you ashamed of
yourself,--frightening your sister that way! He ain't no more
dead 'n you are."
Well, if you'd seen the look of hope that flashed into Phil's face! "Oh,
nurse!" he gasped, "do you _honestly_ think so? But he isn't
breathing,--I can't feel his heart beat."
"That's 'cause he's in a swoond," nurse answered briskly. "Here, lay him
down flat. Now rub his feet--_hard_; Hannah, slap his palms,--that'll
start up a cirkilation. Here, Miss Nora, fan your brother. Cook, fill
them hot-water bottles; if the water in the biler ain't hot 'nough,
start your fire _immejiate_. Master Jack, you run for the doctor; an' if
he can't come," she added, dropping her voice so that only I heard her,
"get another. Don't you come back here without _somebody_. An' be
quick's you can."
That told me that she wasn't as sure about Fee as she pretended to be,
and the hope that had come up in my heart died right out. My eyes got so
blinded with tears that I just had to grope for my hat; but as I was
opening the outer door, I heard something that brought me in again in
double quick time.
It was a cry from Phil,--a shout of joy: "He _is_ breathing! Oh, he's
_breathing_! His eyes are opening!"
Sure enough, they were. Slowly the heavy lids raised, and Fee's
near-sighted eyes looked blankly up at Phil.
"Don't you know me, old fellow?" Phil asked with a break in his voice,
bending eagerly over Felix.
A sweet little smile flickered over Fee's lips. "Phil," he said faintly;
and then, with what we could all see was a great effort, he raised his
hand slowly and let it fall heavily on Phil's hand.
Poor Phil! that broke him down completely. Catching Fee's face between
his two hands, he kissed him warmly two or three times, and then,
dropping his head down on Fee's shoulder, burst into a storm of sobs.
"Oh, come, come! this'll _never_ do!" cried nurse, bustling forward.
"Come, Master Phil, this ain't any time for sich behaviour,"--mind you,
she was wiping the corners of her own eyes! "Now we must get him up to
his own room soon's possible; _then_ we can make him comfort'ble. Can
you carry him up? Me and Hannah can help."
"I can do it alone," Phil said quickly, beginning to gather Fee into
his arms. But I tell you it was hard work getting him up, he was such
a dead weight!
Fee knew Phil was making a desperate effort to lift him, and he tried,
poor fellow, to help all he could. When at last Phil stood erect, with
him in his arms, nurse raised Fee's hands and joined them back of Phil's
neck. "Now clasp your hands tight, Master Felix," she said, "and that'll
take some of your weight off your brother."