Breaking Away Part 11

I longed to know who and what my mother was; but my questions brought no answer. One day, when my uncle was away, I had crept into his library, and tried vainly to obtain some information from his books and papers. He caught me in the room, and drove me out with a curse upon his lips. After that a spring lock was put upon the door, the key of which he carried in his pocket.

On the present occasion I had nothing to expect from my uncle; but I wished to see him, and tell him my story. I knew that he could talk; for, during the preceding year, a man of thirty, elegantly dressed, came to the cottage one afternoon, and walked with my uncle into the grove by the lake. They had business together, and it was not of a pleasant nature; for, prompted by curiosity, I rowed my skiff up to the sh.o.r.e, to learn what I might of the stranger's purpose. I could not understand a word that was said; but my uncle talked rapidly and fiercely, and a violent altercation ensued, which I feared would end in blows. The stranger did not come back to the cottage, and the supper which Betsey had prepared for the guest was not needed.

Learning from this that my uncle had a tongue, I asked him who the stranger was. The answer was only a savage frown. He had no tongue for me. Neither old Jerry nor his wife was any better informed than I was, for both a.s.sured me they did not know the stranger. Satisfied, therefore, that my uncle could talk, I was determined to see him before I went to bed, though it was nearly midnight. Perhaps, also, I was disposed to adopt this course, because my guardian had given such bad advice to Mr. Parasyte. I was not insensible to the indulgence with which I had ever been treated; and seeing that my silent uncle wished to avoid me, I had generally favored him in doing so. It was different now. He had given an order or a permission to have me brutally punished, and I was determined to make him "face the music."

I entered the house, and pa.s.sing through my uncle's chamber, stood at the door of the library, which was fastened by the spring lock.

CHAPTER X.

IN WHICH ERNEST HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH HIS UNCLE.

With my resolution still at the highest pitch of firmness, I knocked at the library door. I expected a storm; it was hardly possible to avoid one; but I hoped, if I could induce my stern and silent guardian to speak or to listen, that I might make an impression upon him. There was no answer to my knock, and I repeated it. Then I heard a stir in the library, and my uncle opened the door. When he saw me, he was about to close the door in my face, doubtless regarding my conduct in knocking at his door as impudent in the highest degree. I was not disposed to be shut out, and antic.i.p.ating his purpose, I stepped nimbly into the room.

"Uncle Amos, I wish to speak with you for a few moments, if you will be kind enough to hear me," I began, in tones as humble as the veriest tyrant could have required.

He sat down in his arm-chair, leaned his head upon his hand in such a way as to cover his face, but made me no reply, either by word or by sign.

"I would not trouble you if it were not necessary to do so," I continued. "Will you permit me to tell my story?"

He removed his hand, and gave me an affirmative nod; but it was evident to me that my presence was the occasion of positive suffering to him. I knew of no reason why I should be personally disagreeable to him, and it seemed to me that his aversion was caused wholly by a kind of obstinacy, which I could not understand.

"I have had a difficulty with Mr. Parasyte; but I was not to blame, as I can prove by more than half the students in the academy," I proceeded; and then I rehea.r.s.ed all the particulars of my affray with Poodles, on the pier, including the rebellion of the students, and the confession of the guilty ones.

My uncle may have heard me, and he may not; but he took not the least notice of me, appearing to be absorbed in his own meditations during the recital of my wrongs.

"Mr. Parasyte called me into his private office, and informed me that he had been to see you," I added.

My uncle removed his hand from his face, glanced at me, nodded his head, which was the first indication he had given that he was conscious of my presence, after I began to relate my story. The look that accompanied the nod was anything but a pleasant one. There was something like malignant satisfaction in the glance that he bestowed upon me.

"Then you did request Mr. Parasyte to reduce me to subjection, as he expressed it?"

"I did," replied he, decidedly, as he again uncovered his face, and nodded to emphasize his reply.

This was hopeful, for I had at least got an answer out of him, though the reply was cold-blooded and cruel.

"Did you request him to flog me?" I demanded, a little excited by the fact that my uncle was likely to prove as malignant as the schoolmaster.

"I did," he added; and his eyes seemed to glow like two coals of fire.

It was not difficult now for me to understand the situation. My uncle hated me,--why I knew not. I could not reconcile such a feeling with the indulgence he had always extended to me. I could not see why, if he hated me, as that fierce glare of his eyes indicated, he had always allowed me to have my own way, had always given me money without stint, and had permitted me to go and come when and as I pleased, and rove at will over the broad and dangerous lake.

I have since learned that this indulgence was perfectly consistent with hatred, and that the judicious parent, who truly loves his son, would deprive him of such unhealthy and dangerous indulgences. As he hated me, so he let me have my own way. Had he loved me, he would have restrained me; he would have inquired into my conduct when away from home; and above all, he would not have allowed me to risk my life upon the stormy lake as I did.

"You _did_ request him to flog me, and without understanding the merits of the case!" I replied, indignantly.

He nodded again.

"Uncle Amos, I have tried to do my duty faithfully at school, and to be respectful and obedient to my teachers. This is the first time I have had any trouble. I say, most solemnly, I was not to blame."

"You were," said my uncle.

"Will you hear the evidence in my favor?"

"No."

"You will not?"

"No."

"What would you have me do?"

"Obey your teacher."

"Mr. Parasyte ordered me to apologize to Poodles."

"Do it then."

"But Poodles confesses that I was not to blame."

"No matter."

"I cannot do it, uncle."

"The master must make you do it," added my uncle, with a sneer.

"He attempted to do so. He began to flog me, and I knocked him down,"

I replied, quietly, but sullenly.

My uncle sprang to his feet, and stared at me with an intensity which would have made me quail if I had been guilty.

"You struck him!" exclaimed he, trembling with emotion.

"When he attempted a second time to flog me, I hit him on the head with a heavy ruler, and he fell insensible upon the floor."

My stern guardian rushed furiously across the room, foaming with pa.s.sion.

"You villain!" gasped he, pausing before me. "You struck the master?"

"I knocked him down, as I would any other man who insulted me with a blow," I replied, firmly; for I intended to have my uncle understand exactly how I felt.

"You are an obstinate whelp!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed my guardian, who had certainly found a tongue now.

"All the students think I am right."

"The students! What do I care what they think?"