Louis' School Days Part 43

"It was a likely way to be wanted, I imagine," said Jones, "to go on as you have been doing. Besides, who is to know what's likely to be safe with such a tell-tale--a traitor--in the camp as you are?"

"If there hadn't been another as great," said Louis, "you would never have known of me; but you bear with him because you can't turn him out."

"Pray, sir!" exclaimed Norman, "whom do you mean?"

Louis felt sorry he had allowed himself to say so much; but he stood unshrinkingly before his interrogator, and replied:

"I mean you, Norman: you know if you hadn't told tales of me this wouldn't have happened."

What vengeance Louis might have drawn on himself by this ill-judged speech we cannot tell, had not Hamilton stepped forward and interposed.

There was a grim ghost of a smile on his face as he put his arm in front of Louis.

"Fair play, Norman," he said; "I won't have him touched here.

You can go now."

As Louis left the room, Hamilton resumed his former att.i.tude, and seemed lost in a revery of an unpleasant description, while a discussion on Louis' conduct was noisily carried on around him: some declaring that Louis had done the deed from malicious motives, others believing that it was merely a foolish joke of which he had not calculated the consequences, and a third party attributing it entirely to Ca.s.son's influence.

"Vexed as I am to find Louis has been so foolish," said Reginald, "I am glad, Frank, that you will now be cleared. Hamilton, I am sure you believe that Louis only intended a joke?"

Hamilton nodded gravely.

"I suppose you'll clear up the matter instanter, Hamilton?"

said Jones.

"_Clear up the matter?_ How! is it not clear enough already?"

said Hamilton, almost fiercely.

"Clear to us, but not to the doctor," said Meredith.

"It's as clear as it's likely to be, then," said Hamilton. "I intend to send up this poem the last evening, and say nothing about it."

"A likely story!" exclaimed Jones.

"If you don't, I shall, Hamilton," said Salisbury.

"Whoever breathes a word of the matter," cried Hamilton, "ceases from that moment to be a friend of mine. Whose business is it, I should like to know--if I choose to throw that unhappy thing on the fire, who is the loser but myself? What satisfaction can it be to any one to get that boy into such a mess?"

As Hamilton spoke he disdainfully flung the poem on the table, and drew the fender, contents and all, on the floor with his fidgety foot.

"The matter comes to this," said Reginald: "it appears that either Louis must be exposed, or Frank suffer for his delinquencies. It is not, certainly, fair to Frank, and mustn't be, Hamilton, though Louis is my brother."

Hamilton cast a bewildered look on Frank.

"True, I had really forgotten Frank. It must be so, then," he said, in a lower tone.

"No, Hamilton, no!" said Frank; "I won't have you tell of poor Louis.

I don't care a bit about Fudge's suspicions now, _you_ all _know_ I am clear. Don't say a word about it, I beg."

"Frank, you're a fine fellow!" exclaimed Hamilton, grasping his hand; "but I don't think it is quite fair."

"Nonsense!" said Frank, gayly; "I owe him something for relieving me from my situation; and, besides," he added, more gravely, "Louis deserves a little forbearance from us: none of us would have done what he did, last half."

"You are right," said Hamilton, warmly; "none of us would, but all of us have forgotten that lately; even Ferrers, who ought, at least, to have befriended him, has turned the cold shoulder to him. I feel quite indignant with Ferrers."

"Ferrers had a little reason to doubt him," said Trevannion.

"What, for letting his name slip out by accident?" said Hamilton, scornfully; "you heard how he let out Ca.s.son's just now--you wouldn't blame him for that, I imagine?"

"No," said Frank; "and I can tell you that Mrs. Paget (no offence to her nephew) is one of those dear retailers of all descriptions of news, that would worm a secret out of a toad in a stone, and Louis hasn't ready wit enough to manage her."

"He has no presence of mind, and a little vanity," said Hamilton.

"He is as vain as a peac.o.c.k--a lump of vanity!" exclaimed Norman; "without an atom of moral courage to stand any persuasion short of being desired to put his head into the fire--a perfect coward!"

"And where did you get your moral courage, Mr. Norman?" said Hamilton, with deliberate gravity; "we may send you to the heathen for reproof:

'If thou hast strength, 'twas heaven that strength bestowed, For know, vain man, thy valor is from G.o.d.'"

Norman was on the point of speaking, but Hamilton continued in the same calm, irresistible manner:

"If Louis is vain, we are proud; and I should like to know which is the worst,--having an exalted opinion of ourselves, or craving the exalted opinion of others? We have not behaved well to Louis, poor fellow! we first spoiled him by over-indulgence and flattery, and when this recoils upon us, we visit all the evil heavily on him."

"I only want to remark," said Meredith, "that we had a right to expect more consistency in a professed saint."

"Perhaps so," said Hamilton; "yet, though I am sure Louis is a sincere Christian, he is not free from faults, and had still a hard work to do in overcoming them; and, because he has for a time forgotten that he had this work to do, shall we cast him off as a reprobate? Remember it was his former blameless conduct that made us expect more from him than another: the Power that guided him then can restore him again. But we have sadly forgotten that great duty, of bearing one another's burdens, which he taught us so sweetly a few months ago. Let us forgive him,"

continued Hamilton, with tears in his eyes, "as we would be forgiven; considering how we should act in temptation ourselves."

There was a dead silence, for Hamilton's address had something solemn in it. He added, after a short pause--

"I feel that we seniors have an immense responsibility: the power of doing much good or harm lies with us. I have been far too selfish and indifferent: Trevannion, will you forgive the thoughtless words that so justly offended you, but which, I a.s.sure you, had only the meaning of an angry emotion?"

"Willingly!" said Trevannion, starting up to meet the proffered hand of his friend; "I am sorry I should have been so much offended."

Reginald was making some acknowledgments to Hamilton and Frank, when a messenger came to summon Hamilton to a short turn with the doctor, and after gladly accepting Reginald's offer of performing his task towards Alfred, he took up his poem, and went away full of deep thoughts and regrets, that the late scene had called forth.

CHAPTER XXIII.

"O Israel, return unto the Lord thy G.o.d; for thou hast fallen by thine iniquity. Take with you words, and turn to the Lord: say unto Him, Take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously; so will we render the calves of our lips."--Hosea xiv. 1, 2.

When Louis left the cla.s.s-room, his feelings of grief and shame were almost too bitter for restraint; but he had learned lately to conceal something of what he felt from those who were not likely to sympathize with him; and finding some boys in the school-room, and being subjected there to several disagreeable remarks and questions, he went into the playground, in the hope of finding either relief in change of scene, or a little more seclusion than he could hope for in-doors; and after escaping from some tormentors, who met him at the door, in their anxiety to know what Hamilton wanted with him, he went towards the side of the playground that looked upon the lane, hardly caring where he was going, or what became of him.

The door was open, and disregarding, or more properly, forgetting, the injunctions respecting it, he went up to it, and stood looking out into the lane, till at last, one of his school-fellows discovering the open door, came up, and asked him to keep watch for him, while he went on a forbidden errand.