A Little Hero Part 3

To Jeff these things had become natural, and his spontaneous, affectionate nature seemed suddenly frozen up by circ.u.mstances. The dull ache of longing for kindly, smiling eyes, for little playful speeches, at times seemed more than he could bear.

And to him who had lived in the constant presence of his mother the many restrictions laid upon the children at Loch Lossie seemed cruelly hard; and it was a discipline that seemed to have no meaning, that seemed to presuppose disobedience.

He might not go in the drawing-room or conservatory without leave, or look at the books in the library, or pick the commonest flowers in the garden, or walk near the loch. No promise was ever regarded as sacred by his seniors.

"But if I give you my word, Uncle Hugh," he had pleaded in early days, "not to go near the water, or touch the boats, surely I may go down the drive."

Uncle Hugh only looked down on him with cold denial.

"Little boys are not to be trusted; their promises are not worth much,"

he answered.

Then Jeff got very red, and burst out pa.s.sionately:

"You must have known only boys who were liars. Did you not speak the truth yourself when you were young?"

Brian pulled at his jacket to modify his speech. Jeff wrenched it away.

"Don't touch me, Brian; I shall say what I like; and I know you don't always speak the truth. Uncle Hugh, don't you know it is only cowards who make false promises? Can't you trust me? No one who is brave--really brave--or who tries to be brave--would tell a lie."

But the appeal seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Not long after this little scene the Rev. Mr. M'Gregor had reason to complain of Jeff's negligence. He was very inattentive to instruction and his lessons were never properly prepared.

"The boy, moreover, Mr. Colquhoun, has a tiresome habit of reasoning with regard to actions, even my actions. This approaches disrespect.

Logic, you are aware, cannot be conveniently applied to every circ.u.mstance of life."

"It ought to be," said rigid Mr. Colquhoun, with a certain degree of sternness.

"I respect the boy for his fearless questionings and outspoken sentiments, though I admit they are embarra.s.sing at times."

"I am not sure, Mr. M'Gregor, if Geoffry does not teach us a lesson sometimes."

Uncle Hugh called him Geoffry, much to Jeff's amus.e.m.e.nt.

Secretly Uncle Hugh did not highly esteem the boy's tutor, though necessity compelled him to employ his services.

The Rev. Mr. M'Gregor was, no doubt, a clever man in his way, but he was not a man of high principle. He hated trouble of any sort, and expediency was usually his guide. Still he had had much experience in teaching, and Aunt Annie was quite equal to the task of sounding his knowledge of cla.s.sics and mathematics.

These were beyond reproach, and she esteemed it a very fortunate accident which had thrown him in her way.

One of the most strict laws laid down at Loch Lossie was that the boys were never to make use of the boats moored at the little landing-stage.

It came to Jeff's knowledge that Brian repeatedly disobeyed this order.

He knew that at dusk his cousin frequently went out alone in a little skiff that was easily managed. Finally, after many anxious days, he resolved to tell Brian that he was aware of his disobedience.

Brian turned on him fiercely, calling him "Spy," "Sneak," and "Holly."

Jeff did not lack in daring or intrepidity, and it was hard to be reproached with timidity by one he knew his inferior in the respect of courage. Then he remembered that to be patient was not the least part of a hero's task, and checked the angry words that were about to rise.

One morning Uncle Hugh came into the school-room, where the boys were always to be found at this hour. His face was graver than usual, and his voice sounded cold and cruel in Jeff's ears.

"One of you boys has disobeyed me. You have been out in the skiff. I suppose it was last evening while we were at dinner."

He looked steadily at the two lads, who were gathering their books together to take down to Mr. M'Gregor's house. Jeff coloured up to the roots of his curly hair, and looked down, unwilling to confront the guilty one's confusion. But Brian, with the angelic face and innocent aspect he habitually wore, was self-possessed enough to ask:

"Did somebody say they saw one of us, papa?"

Mr. Colquhoun looked at his own son, and never doubted his innocence.

"No, my boy, but I found a pocket-knife in the skiff and a coil of gut, with two fish. I know you have both knives exactly alike, and probably only one of you can tell me to which it belongs. Geoffry, have you your knife in your pocket?"

Silence, and no movement on Jeff's part. In a moment Jeff looked up, and in his steady brown eyes there was something which Uncle Hugh could not read.

It was a bold glance, but not a defiant one; a resolute gleam, but yet a sad one. For days afterwards Mr. Colquhoun remembered that dauntless look.

"No, Uncle Hugh," he said firmly.

"Brian, where is yours?"

Obedient to his father's command Brian brought one from his pocket.

That very morning, not an hour ago, he had asked Jeff to lend him his knife, and had not returned it to its rightful owner. Jeff's lips closed tightly and his eyes fell.

"Then I must believe, Geoffry, that it is you who have disobeyed me.

Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"I did _not_ go in the boat," he said doggedly, picking up some books and strapping them together, with despair at his heart. Surely this was being a hero.

"Do not add a lie to your offence and make it worse."

"I have not told you a lie, Uncle Hugh. I--did--_not_--go," he almost shouted, shouldering his books.

Mr. Colquhoun did not argue or seek to prolong the interview, but in a few words spoke the sentence of punishment.

"I will give orders that you are not to use your pony for a month, and that Sandy is not to take you rabbiting or fishing for the same length of time. You are not to be seen anywhere in the gardens or grounds except on your way to Mr. M'Gregor's. I have never restricted you boys in any reasonable pleasures, but I am fully determined to make you understand that I intend to be implicitly obeyed when I think it necessary to lay down a rule."

Then Mr. Colquhoun went away, and Jeff threw down his books with a bang.

"I'll fight you, Brian, you coward, you false witness! You're worse than Ananias," he said, squaring himself for the combat and reddening all over his face.

"All right. Come on. I'm twice as strong as you, and Sandy has taught me how to box."

With this invitation Jeff began the battle in a very unscientific way.

Of course he came out of the fray with a bleeding face and torn clothes. There was no one near to pity him, and he could only wash his face and hope that the rents would escape Aunt Annie's notice till Nan had mended them.

For a fortnight this poor little boy moped about the upstairs rooms and pa.s.sages in a very miserable way. Jessie was his best consolation, bringing him news from the garden and stable which interested him. She also paid a daily visit to Sandy in order to glean little details of sport, and came back usually with her small face puckered up in anxiety to forget nothing.

It was really very sad for poor Jeff that the otter hounds should visit the neighbourhood at this juncture. He had to watch Uncle Hugh and Brian starting at daybreak three times a week to partic.i.p.ate in the sport. His poor heart was very sore all the time, for Uncle Hugh had not believed him, and there was no one in whom he could confide. It was a terrible anguish to bear all alone, and the injustice of his punishment was the sorest part of his trouble.