We Ten Part 24

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 bas.e.m.e.nt 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 k.n.o.b 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 a.s.s 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 a.s.sociate 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 s.h.i.+ning steadily up at Phil through his gla.s.ses.

"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 gla.s.ses 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, hus.h.!.+" Phil cried eagerly; "he's coming to himself. Oh, thank G.o.d! 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.