The Adventures of a Three-Guinea Watch Part 40

"It's not a long one. `Dear Jim,' he says, `I wish you were out here with all my heart. I should at least have one fellow to talk to among all these strangers. I had a decent enough pa.s.sage. Father Ocean was on his good behaviour, and the vessel was a snug one. We came in for rough weather in the Persian Gulf, but it didn't afflict me much, and I landed here two days ago, safe and sound. I reported myself to our colonel yesterday and was introduced to my fellow-officers. Some of them are decent fellows, though perhaps hardly in your and my line. I had been told the officers of our regiment were a rackety lot, but I don't see much sign of that yet. It's awfully dull here, and I would give a lot to be up in your rooms at George's, sprawling in your easy- chair and talking over Randlebury days. I suppose you will soon be in for your final. Good luck be with you, my boy! Remember me in your will if you get made a Fellow. I suppose the man I met in your rooms once--Read I believe his name was--will be first. Talking of that day, have you heard lately of Tom Drift? I shall always be glad I went up to town that night and found him out, though I lost him again so soon. I inquired everywhere when I was last in town, but nothing was known of him, except that he was supposed to have been engaged in some--' But that's all about an old schoolfellow and won't interest you. `We expect to be ordered up-country pretty soon now, and meanwhile have liberty to amuse ourselves pretty much as we like, but, as far as I can see, cards unfortunately seem the only recreation in which the officers indulge.

However, I shall be kept busy with drill, and being junior officer expect I shall be for some time f.a.g of the regiment. Mind you write as soon as ever you get this, and a regular yarn. I have had to write this in a hurry, and in a room where a noise is going on. By next mail you shall get a full, true, and particular account of all the doings, sayings, and adventures of yours as ever, C.N.'

"I'm afraid," said Jim, as he folded up the letter, "it will be rather dull out there, for--hullo!"

This e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n was caused by seeing that George was sitting motionless with his elbows on the table and his face buried in his hands.

"What's the matter?" he said, getting up and laying his hand on his friend's arm.

George looked up suddenly with a scared face, which frightened Jim.

"Old man, aren't you well?" said the latter anxiously.

"Eh?--oh, yes! I'm all right. Why--why do you ask? But I say, Jim, this room is close. Let's go out and take a turn in the big court."

Jim, in sore perplexity, complied, and for an hour those two paced the flags round the great quadrangle. George was himself again, much to Jim's relief, and suffered himself to be sent uncomplainingly to bed at ten. To bed, but not to sleep. All night long I heard him toss to and fro, vainly endeavouring to recall Greek and Latin lines or some other fragment of his studies. At about six he dozed fitfully for an hour, and then came the knock at the door which summoned him from his bed to the first day of his ordeal.

I would rather not dwell on those examination days, for I could tell, if no one else could, that my master was really ill, and was only prevented by sheer excitement from succ.u.mbing at any moment. As day by day pa.s.sed I could see the effort becoming more and more difficult. The nights were worse than the days--sleepless, feverish, distracted. It was evident this could not go on for long.

The last day of the examination arrived, and my master was in his usual place in the Senate House. His pen flew swiftly all the morning along the paper, and one by one, a triumphant tick was set against the printed questions before him. I could see no one as well employed as he. Jim, at a distant desk, was biting the end of his pen and looking up at the ceiling; other men sat back in their seats and stared with knitted brows at the paper before them; others buried their fingers in their hair and looked the picture of despair. But still my master wrote on. It wanted half an hour to the time of closing when he reached the last question on the paper. I saw his lips curl into a smile as he dashed his pen into the ink and began to write. Then suddenly it dropped from his fingers, and his hands were clasped to his forehead. He made no motion and uttered no cry; men went on with their work on each side of him, and professors at their desks never turned his way. I looked wildly towards Jim; he sat there, biting the end of his pen and scowling at the question before him, but for a long time never looked our way. At last his head turned, and in an instant he was at his friend's side. Others came round too and offered help. Among them my poor master was borne from the hall and carried to his rooms, and that evening it was known all over the University that Reader, of George's, had been taken ill during the Tripos examination, and now lay delirious in his rooms in college.

Every one believed the attack was but a slight one, but I feared the worst; I knew how systematically and fatally my master's const.i.tution had been undermined by the work of the last three years, and felt sure it could never rally from the fierce fever which had laid him low. And it never did. The fever left him in due time, and his mind ceased to wander, but every hour his strength failed him. His parents and Jim, and sometimes his old friend the rector, would constantly be about his bed, and to all of them it soon became evident what little hope there was of his recovery. Indeed, he must have guessed it too!

One day, as Jim sat with him, a faint shout was heard below in the quadrangle.

"What's that?" inquired George.

"I'll see," said Jim, and he went lightly from the room.

Presently he returned with a face almost beaming.

"It's good news," he said; "they were reading the result of the Tripos."

"And where are you?" asked George.

"_You_ are first!" said Jim, proudly.

"Where are you?" repeated George.

"I am twelfth."

"In the first cla.s.s?"

"Yes."

"That is good news, old fellow!"

"That shout was in your honour, you know; our college is as proud as anything to have the first man."

George smiled feebly, and for a long time both were silent.

Then George said,--

"You were right, Jim, after all. If I had listened to you I should have been wiser."

"Never mind, old man, you'll know better another time."

"I shall never have the chance, Jim."

"Don't say that, George; every one hopes you'll get better."

George smiled again, then said,--

"Jim, you will look after my father and mother, won't you? You know I've got a little money now, and they will be comfortably off, but you'll go and see them now and then?"

Jim laid his hand on the wasted hand of his friend.

"And, Jim, I want you to take my watch when I'm gone. I always valued it as much as anything, and I'd like you to have it."

Poor Jim could say nothing, he only gave another pressure of his friend's hand.

Then presently Mrs Reader returned to the room, and he slipped away.

The end was not long in coming. One afternoon as the four friends he loved most stood round his bed, George opened his eyes, and said,--

"Listen!"

"What is it, lad?" whispered the father.

"An organ--somewhere--open the window."

They opened the window, but the only music out there was the chirping of birds in the trees, and the distant footfalls of pa.s.sers-by.

"Listen, there it is!" he said again.

"What is it playing?" asked the clergyman.

"A new tune."

And almost as he spoke the words, he closed his eyes for the last time on earth.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

HOW I FALL INTO THE HANDS OF AN OLD FRIEND.

Boys may imagine with what astonishment Jim Halliday discovered, on receiving the legacy bequeathed him by his dead friend, that I was the very watch which years before he had known so familiarly as the property of Charlie Newcome. At first he could not believe it, and marvelled how any two watches could be so much alike. Then he discovered the "C.N."

scratched long ago inside, which he well remembered. And further inquiries enabling him to trace me back to the Muggerbridge silversmith, and from him to the p.a.w.nbroker's sale in London, he had no doubt left that I was actually the watch of which nothing had been heard since Tom Drift owned me.