The Hero of Garside School Part 68

"I'm afraid not; but you might leave it with me. I'll think it over."

"All right; but I say, Stan, you must do something to prevent Paul being chucked from the school. That's going it a bit too strong. I know whose working that beastly dodge--Newall and his jackal Parfitt."

How could Stanley tell his cousin that it was he--Stanley Moncrief--who had actually moved that Paul should be expelled from the school? If it were possible for Stanley to have felt more wretched than he had felt when Harry came to him, he certainly did so when he was once more alone.

"I know the great friends.h.i.+p there is between you and my nephew Stanley." Those were the words which stared him in the face. Friends.h.i.+p?

What mockery! How had he proved his friends.h.i.+p? By doing his best to get Paul expelled from the school. What would his uncle say to him when he next visited Redmead? It was to show him this letter Paul had doubtless come to him that day in the common room. And he had met him--with a blow. It was dastardly.

He must do his best to undo the mischief he had done. Stanley started up, and went to the door; then he paused, and his heart began to harden again.

After all, if mischief had been created, Paul was alone responsible. It was he, and not Stanley, who had acted in a dastardly manner. It was he who had run away at the sand-pits, and left him to fight his battle with the beastly Beetle; it was he----

His meditations were cut short by the door being opened, and the entrance of Waterman.

"Hallo, Moncrief. The very fellow I've been looking for. Horrid bore looking for fellows. Phew! Close in here, isn't it? You look a bit off.

Come for a little stroll. I've got a fellow who's dying for an introduction to you."

Waterman slipped an arm through Stanley's, and before Stanley was aware of it, had led him through the door.

"A fellow--wants to be introduced to me! What fellow?" he demanded.

"Ah, that's it. What fellow? You'd never guess. It's a pleasant little surprise I've got in store for you. Think of all your rich uncles and aunts, and people of that sort. Ha, ha! A pleasant surprise, lovely, delightful. Mustn't spoil it by telling you. Come along."

Waterman's reference to uncles at once reminded Stanley of the uncle whose letter he had been reading. Could it be that his uncle Moncrief was paying him a surprise visit? But Waterman did not take him to the visitors'-room. He took him out of the grounds to some elms which flourished not far from the school. Here a boy was leaning against one of the trees. Stanley glanced at him; then turned white. It was Wyndham.

"Told you I had a little surprise," said Waterman. "Wasn't I right? I like little surprises--don't you? Explanations are an awful bore. I never like explanations if I can get out of them. Wyndham's got something to tell you. You'll find him very decent for a Beetle."

And Waterman vanished with a speed which was really marvellous for him, leaving the two together. The last time they had met face to face they had met as antagonists, and had fought hard. The memory of that time was present to both of them, for neither seemed anxious to break the silence.

"Do I understand that you wish to see me?" Stanley presently asked.

"Yes; it was kind of you to come."

"You needn't compliment me, for I mightn't have come had I known whom I had to meet," answered Stanley coldly. "Waterman misled me."

"Anyhow, I'm glad you have come, and so will you be, I think, before you go back. I hope you don't look upon me as an enemy?"

"How else can I look upon you? Have you sent for me to mock me?"

"That's my last wish. I've sent for you to prevent you doing a great wrong to a friend of yours--Paul Percival."

"A friend of mine!" repeated Stanley, scornfully.

"Well, one who was your friend, and who, I hope, will soon be your friend again."

"You have more reason to be thankful to him than I have," laughed Stanley, bitterly. "He ran away from you, and left me with the work he hadn't the courage to go on with. I know that I didn't come very well out of it, but I didn't run away."

"No; you did well--much better than I did. I'm sorry, very sorry, I fought with you. More so, as by fighting you I separated two friends.

Often and often I have prayed to be forgiven. It has all been a ghastly mistake."

"Mistake? Percival running away--there wasn't much mistake about that, I'm thinking."

"That is the greatest mistake of all. All of you put it down to fear of me; but it wasn't--far otherwise. I don't believe that Paul Percival knows what fear is; and you, who were his friend, ought to have known that as well as I do."

"So I thought--up till then. After, what could I think? What could any of us think?"

"Your best of him, instead of your worst. Haven't you ever suspected the reason why he would not stand up to me?"

"Never! Why?"

"Blind--blind! Do you remember that Percival on one occasion--during last vacation--helped a gentleman in distress by acting as his messenger?"

"Quite well, seeing that that gentleman was my father."

"Your father? Yes, that was the gentleman, I believe, for whom Percival did this kindness. He was set upon by the way by two ruffians, but managed to escape. Did he ever tell you how he managed it?"

"By hiding down a well."

"Right! But there was a boy who helped him to this queer hiding-place.

That boy was me!"

"You?"

"Yes. On the day Percival came to the sand-pits to meet the champion of the Beetles, he little knew whom he was to meet. I knew as little whom I was to meet. He looked upon me as one who had saved his life. How could he fight me? So he turned away."

"Why didn't he explain?" asked Stanley.

"And give away his secret, or, rather, your father's secret, before that mob of boys? You--you ask that?"

"But after----"

"After? From what he has told me, he made more than one effort to explain to you, but you would never listen to him."

It was true enough. Stanley remembered it all--the effort Paul had made to speak to him immediately after the fight, and later. Everything was now clear. How n.o.ble Paul had been! How he had wronged him! He covered his face with his hands. He could not speak. Wyndham respected his silence.

At length he placed his hand upon the bowed shoulder. Stanley did not shrink from it.

"I'm sorry if I've caused you pain; but it was the only way. Mischief is being done. You must prevent it from going any further."

"I will--I will! You can trust me," cried Stanley, fervently. "Paul, Paul, how I've wronged you!"

"I'm glad you see that. You will make it up with him--you will be friends with him once more?"

"Yes, yes; if he will have my friends.h.i.+p. But I don't deserve it. I deserve kicking. It was kind of you to take so much trouble."

Wyndham turned on his heel, but as suddenly turned round again.

"Would you mind taking my hand, Moncrief?" he said.