BEFORE THE FACULTY.
For an instant after Van Loan had uncovered Parmenter no one stirred.
The act had been so sudden and unexpected that it startled them all.
Then a half-dozen men pounced upon Van Loan, bound his wrists, and
bandaged his eyes again.
He was thoroughly helpless now, but the mischief had been done.
Parmenter, at least, was in Van Loan’s power. The Freshman had seen his
face, and could prove that he was engaged in an act for which he could
be expelled from the college.
The conspirators retired to deliberate. The question what was to be
done was a serious one. Bessick, one of the rash ones, whispered,
“Let’s hang him up by the thumbs until he promises that he will never
reveal anything of what has happened.”
“That would never do,” said Robinson. “You can’t do anything but
threaten. I think he can be scared into keeping still.”
“Or bought off,” said another of the hazers. “I tell you, bribery is
the only thing for a man with a character as mean as his.”
There were valid objections to all those methods, and to every other
plan that could be conceived; but that the conspirators could not go on
with the hazing was plain. The life and fun had dropped suddenly and
disastrously out of that, and the danger to at least one of them was
too great to be trifled with.
Parmenter again approached Van Loan, his face still uncovered. The
others followed to listen. Parmenter’s face was pale, but wore not the
smallest look of fright, and he spoke quietly but very firmly.
“You have found out who I am,” he said, “and to a certain extent you
have me in your power; but there are some things that depend on the
use you make of the knowledge you have obtained here to-night. If you
can assure us that you will keep it sacredly to yourself, I think you
can trust us, and each of us, to place no obstacle in your way through
college, nor harm you in any way whatever. But I don’t need to hint to
you what may happen if you betray us.”
Parmenter paused, and Van Loan replied:
“I think I know what you mean. I propose to keep the knowledge I have
obtained here to-night sacredly to myself.”
“Do you solemnly promise me, and each of us, that you will never reveal
my identity, nor disclose to anybody at any time anything of what has
happened here to-night?”
“I make you that solemn promise.”
Van Loan’s voice certainly had in it the ring of sincerity. His
captors could ask no more of him than he had promised. The agreement
was definite, and both parties thoroughly understood the situation.
Then they took Van Loan back to the college. He was still bound,
bandaged, and blindfolded. They led him down the forest path, across
the fields, and through the college grove, and loosening his hands,
they left him in the middle of the campus.
By the time he had freed himself, and could look around, not one of
the hazers was in sight; and before he reached his bed the men who had
dragged him from it less than an hour before were locked safely in
their rooms.
The next day Parmenter and Van Loan met each other face to face on the
walk between the colleges. There was a nod of recognition on the part
of each, but no word was spoken. The same thing occurred the next day
and the next.
It leaked out after a time, as such things will, that some sort of
hazing had been done, and that Van Loan was the victim of it; but who
the hazers were no one except those who had participated in the affair
appeared to know.
The origin of the rumor could not be traced to Van Loan; there was
nothing to indicate that he was not keeping his promise.
As the days went by, and the situation remained unchanged, Parmenter
began to feel relieved. The dread of discovery and consequent
punishment was rapidly disappearing from his mind; but he was troubled
about Lee.
Charley had sobered much since the night of the hazing. It is true he
worked harder; but he went about his tasks with an anxious face, and
his laugh had lost much of the old-time, merry ring.
He told Parmenter one day that it was a constant trial to him to face
his father, who had heard with the utmost chagrin and sorrow that the
hazing had occurred, and who spoke bitterly of it, but who evidently
did not suspect that his son had been one of the offenders.
“I feel guilty every time he looks at me,” said Charley, “yet I know
he doesn’t imagine that I was in it. Why, he’d as soon think I’d hang
a man as haze him. That’s what’s hurting me, you see. I can’t get over
it. Fred, I’d give up every college prize and honor I ever hope to get,
and do it gladly, if I could blot out my part of that miserable night’s
business.”
Parmenter threw back his head impatiently. He felt, whether justly or
not, that he was responsible for Lee’s participation in the hazing, and
the young man’s passionate words of regret cut him deeply.
“Well,” he said finally, “I don’t know that there was any law obliging
you to take part in it. You joined us voluntarily, didn’t you?”
“Yes, of course. But after I’d helped start the thing, and after what
you said about my backing out, you see I couldn’t very well--Fred,
forgive me! I didn’t know how that was going to sound. I don’t mean to
blame you, because you’re not to blame, but--”
“Oh, go right on!” interrupted Parmenter, coolly, his face a little
pale and his lips drawn; “go right on! I’m the only one who’s in
danger, anyway, and I might as well shoulder the whole burden and
have done with it. I’m perfectly willing that all blame of any kind
connected with the affair shall be laid on me.”
Lee protested earnestly that he had no feeling against Parmenter in the
matter, and could not have any. A truce was patched up between them,
but their relations afterward were not quite the same.
Each felt a certain restraint while in the other’s presence,--a
restraint that might have worn away in time, but which now had only the
effect of pushing them farther and farther apart.
Parmenter applied himself with renewed energy to the work of the term,
and especially to the task of perfecting himself in his Sophomore
oration.
He was passionately fond of oratory. Often, sitting or walking alone,
he imagined himself on the prize stage in the midst of his triumph.
Before him in these visions stretched the long aisles of the crowded
church, the pews bright with the evening costumes of the ladies, the
air heavy with the fragrance of many flowers. All eyes were upon him.
Every ear was attentive to catch the sounding sentences that fell from
his lips.
The rustle and stir that passed through the audience at some telling
point in his oration swept up pleasantly to his senses; the involuntary
burst of applause at some brilliant climax rolled like a wave of
delight into his soul; and when, finally, he bowed and retired, there
were the marked and ribboned bouquets falling in sweet showers on the
stage to attest his popularity; there was the long roll of applause
rising and dying and rising again, only to be drowned at last in the
music of the orchestra.
Oh, it was a splendid scene, a knightly test, a thrilling triumph! To
anticipate it, to see it all in imagination as he did, left Parmenter
in an exalted state for hours.
But his days were far from being happy. The anxious face of Charley Lee
haunted him wherever he went. The old love for his friend was still
strong enough in his heart to awaken sincere pity.
He tried a dozen times to bridge over the awkward restraint that
separated them; and although Charley was always anxious to assist him,
somehow the effort never succeeded. Though neither young man knew it,
success lay only in a radical change of the conditions that surrounded
them. Since they had been partners in transgression, they must needs be
partners in expiation before they could hope to count upon a complete
renewal of their old relations.
Lee’s apparent mental uneasiness became the source of deep annoyance to
Parmenter at last. Still feeling himself to be the cause of it, still
unable to banish it, it irritated him to such an extent that he avoided
his old friend’s society lest he should, by open reproof or sharp
rebuke, cut the last tie of friendship.
So day after day the two drifted apart, and by and by a new factor
entered into the problem of their estrangement.
It was whispered about that Professor Lee had opposed Parmenter’s
selection for the prize stage. No one could tell how the information
got abroad, nor could any one at first state the ground of the
professor’s opposition. Later, however, it was said to be because
Parmenter had his arm in a sling and could make no gestures.
But some one who pretended to know said that Professor Lee did not so
much object to the fact of Parmenter’s disability as to the cause of it.
The professor was reported to have declared before the committee that
Parmenter was the leader in the moonlight rush; that it was a vulgar
exhibition of brute force and savagery, and would lower the moral tone
of the college for a year; that hazing and rushing were the twin relics
of college barbarism; and that since the first had been so effectually
abolished, it was high time for the committee to show their disapproval
of the other. He knew of no better opportunity to do so than the
present.
Parmenter could not learn where these reports had originated. It was
suggested that one of the tutors had revealed the secrets of the
committee-room to an upper classman, and that the matter had come out
in that way. The story had every appearance of verity, and caused
Parmenter no little anxiety and unpleasant thought.
Yet he said nothing to Charley Lee about it, nor did Charley mention
the subject to him. Indeed, they saw very little of each other these
days.
Bessick came in one evening for a chat with Parmenter. Bessick was one
of the disappointed candidates for the prize stage. The conversation
turned on Professor Lee’s position and opposition.
“I have no doubt,” said Bessick, “that he said just what has been
reported.”
“But why should he select me as a target?” asked Parmenter. “Every man
of the six was in that rush, Charley Lee included.”
“Well, I heard the matter discussed yesterday--now, I’m not saying this
to prejudice the professor, you know, nor Charley, nor anybody; and
besides it may not be true. I hope it isn’t. But I heard it talked that
the thing was fixed to get you out of the way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know Lee is the only man in the class who is able to compete
with you, don’t you? The prize lies between you and him--there’s no
doubt about that, is there?”
“I don’t know. Suppose there isn’t; what then?”
“Well, with you out of the way Charley’d be sure to get it, wouldn’t
he? And Sammy Lee would crawl across the campus on his hands and knees
to have his boy take that honor, wouldn’t he? You know that, don’t you?
And Charley--well, if you can’t see through a door when it’s open, I’m
sorry for you.”
Parmenter protested earnestly that he didn’t think Sammy Lee would
enter into such a plot, and he was sure Charley wouldn’t; and Bessick,
declaring that he had no personal feeling in the matter, and that he
was simply repeating what he had heard, took his leave.
But the seed he had dropped fell into soil ready to receive it. The
more Parmenter thought about it and pondered over it, the more he began
to believe that Bessick’s theory had some foundation.
One circumstance after another, developing during the few days that
followed Bessick’s visit, tended to increase his distrust of Professor
Lee and his suspicion of Charley. Whispering tongues were at work,
adding one bit of gossip after another to his stock of alleged
information.
Finally it was rumored in his hearing that Professor Lee was at work
unearthing Parmenter’s part in the hazing of Van Loan, and that he
would soon be called before the faculty on that account.
Within ten minutes after this rumor reached Parmenter’s ears Mr.
Delavan, one of the tutors, knocked at his door.
“Mr. Parmenter,” he said courteously, “the president desires to see you
at his study.”
“At once?” asked Parmenter.
“At once.”
“Very well, I’ll come right over.”
Tutor Delavan bowed and disappeared; and Parmenter, feeling a sudden
weakness in his knees, resumed his chair for a few minutes before
answering the summons.
At last, he thought, the blow was about to fall. Sammy Lee had
procured his evidence! Either Van Loan had turned traitor, or Charley
had--confessed, or some one of the remaining twelve had broken his
pledge. In whatever way it had come about, he felt sure that it was
the result of a systematic attempt on Professor Lee’s part to deprive
him of his standing and disgrace him; and his bitterness increased
accordingly.
Parmenter’s breast was still heaving with anger and apprehension as he
entered the president’s study, and faced the members of the faculty who
were gathered there.
President Mather, large, portly, dignified, sat at the head of the
table.
“I will tell you at once why we have sent for you, Mr. Parmenter,” he
said. “We are informed that you participated in a hazing affair on the
night of the twelfth of April. We do not, of course, intend to condemn
you unheard. What have you to say?”
Parmenter waited a moment before replying.
“Who is my accuser?” he asked.
“A member of the faculty has preferred the charge,” was the reply.
“May I ask which member of the faculty?”
Professor Lee arose from his chair.
“I made the charge, Mr. Parmenter,” he said, “upon information derived
from a student at this college.”
“May I ask what student?” again inquired Parmenter.
“I am not at liberty to give you his name,” was the reply.
The accused man turned again to the president.
“I demand the right to meet my accuser face to face,” he said stoutly,
determined to find out, if possible, who had betrayed him.
“That we cannot grant you,” replied the president, calmly, “until we
know whether or not you deny the charge.”
Again Parmenter hesitated. He had no thought of denying the charge;
but he thought he was justified in endeavoring to learn how much the
faculty knew about the matter, and from what source the information had
been derived. After a moment he said:
“Hazing is a very indefinite term. Of what specifications does the
charge against me consist?”
Some of the members of the faculty moved uneasily in their chairs,
impatient at what they considered pure evasion. But Professor Lee rose
again and said:
“I will answer the question. The charge is that you, with certain other
persons whose names are at present unknown to us, entered the room of
Freshman Benjamin E. Van Loan on the night of the twelfth of April
last, masked and disguised; that you took Van Loan forcibly from his
bed, bound, blindfolded and gagged him, and compelled him to accompany
you to a lonely place in the woods, half a mile from the college,
where, with cruel persistence and fiendish ingenuity, you maltreated
his person and insulted his manhood.”
Professor Lee’s voice had grown stronger as he talked, his manner had
become deeply earnest, and his face showed marks of great excitement.
He paused for a moment, as if to grasp some final thought. Then he went
on.
“And I wish to say in your presence, sir, and in the presence of the
president and members of the faculty, that in my judgment, no breach of
discipline that has occurred here in years will so hurt us, and hinder
us, and sap our moral strength, as this revival of one of the most
cruel, brutal, and unmanly customs I have ever known. I do not hesitate
to say, sir, that if you are guilty of the crime charged against you,
there is no punishment that we, as a faculty, have the power to impose
on you that will be too severe.”
No one had ever before seen Professor Lee aroused to such an extent.
As he resumed his seat his face was glowing, his eyes were flashing,
his under lip was trembling with excitement and indignation.
As for Parmenter, every word that came from the professor’s lips fell
upon him like a blow. Never in his life before had any one dared to use
such language to him. It kindled in his breast a perfect fire of rage
and resentment.
Hot words came boiling to his lips. He had it wildly in mind to fling
into the face of this gray-haired accuser the fact that his own son was
no less guilty than he who stood there under accusation, and fully as
deserving as he of those bitter, cruel, and seemingly vindictive words.
“I regret,” he began slowly, “that you have denounced me with such
force and bitterness, since your condemnation falls equally as
heavily--”
Parmenter stopped suddenly. A spark of manhood shot up from his breast
at the supreme moment, and closed his lips. Whatever the provocation
might be he would not stoop to such meanness as that.
For one moment he stood, with white face and clenched hands, stemming,
with powerful effort, the tide of speech that had threatened to break
disastrously from his lips. Then he turned slowly to the president.
“I do not deny the charge,” he said.
“Have you anything to say in extenuation?”
“Nothing.”
“We shall not keep you longer before us. We thank you for your prompt
attendance. Good-morning, Mr. Parmenter.”
With much dignity President Mather bowed the young man out.