Ishmael; Or, In the Depths Part 63

The little girl addressed as Bee was evidently afraid to disobey Claudia and ashamed to obey her. She therefore stood in embarra.s.sment.

"Look at him, can't you? he won't bite you!" said Miss Claudia.

Ishmael felt rea.s.sured by the very shyness of the little new acquaintance that was being forced upon him, and he said, very gently:

"I will not frighten you, little girl; I am not a rude boy."

"I know you will not; it is not that," murmured the little maiden, encouraged by the sweet voice, and stealing a glance at the gentle, intellectual countenance of our lad.

"There, now, does he look like a laborer's son?" inquired Claudia.

"No," murmured Bee.

"But he is, for all that! He is the son of--of--I forget; but some relation of Hannah Worth, the weaver. Who was your father, Ishmael? I never heard--or if I did I have forgotten. Who was he?"

Ishmael's face grew crimson. Yet he could not have told, because he did not know, why this question caused his brow to burn as though it had been smitten by a red-hot iron.

"Who was your father, I ask you, Ishmael?" persisted the imperious little girl.

"I do not remember my father, Miss Claudia," answered the boy, in a low, half-stifled voice.

"And now you have hurt his feelings, Claudia; let him alone," whispered the fair child, in a low voice, as the tears of a vague but deep sympathy, felt but not understood, arose to her eyes.

Before another word could be said Mrs. Middleton entered the room.

"Ah, Bee, so your are making acquaintance with your new schoolmate! This is my oldest daughter, Miss Beatrice, Ishmael. We call her Bee, because it is the abbreviation of Beatrice, and because she is such a busy, helpful little lady," she said, as she shook hands with the boy and patted the little girl on the head.

The entrance of the teachers and the day pupils broke up this little group; the children took their seats and the school was opened, as before, with prayer. This morning the tutor led the exercises. Mr.

Middleton was absent on business. This day pa.s.sed much as the previous one, except that at its close there was Claudia to shake hands with Ishmael; to tell him that he was a bright, intelligent boy, and that she was proud of him; and all with the air of a princess rewarding some deserving peasant.

CHAPTER XXIX.

YOUNG LOVE.

Have you been out some starry night, And found it joy to bend Your eyes to one particular light Till it became a friend?

And then so loved that glistening spot, That whether it were far, Or more, or less, it mattered not-- It still was your own star?

Thus, and thus only, can you know How I, even lowly I, Can live in love, though set so low, And my lady-love no high!

--_Richard Monckton Milnes_.

Ishmael's improvement was marked and rapid; both as to his bodily and mental growth and progress. His happiness in his studies; his regular morning and evening walks to and from school; his abundant and nutritious noontide meals with the young Middletons; even his wood-cutting at the hut; his whole manner of life, in fact, had tended to promote the best development of his physical organization. He grew taller, stronger, and broader-shouldered; he held himself erect, and his pale complexion cleared and became fair. He no longer ate with a canine rapacity; his appet.i.te was moderate, and his habits temperate, because his body was well nourished and his health was sound.

His mental progress was quite equal to his bodily growth. He quickly mastered the elementary branches of education, and was initiated into the rudiments of Latin, Greek, and mathematics. He soon overtook the two Burghes and was placed in the same cla.s.s with them and with John and James Middleton--Mr. Middleton's second and third sons. When he entered the cla.s.s, of course he was placed at the foot; but he first got above Ben Burghe, and then above Alfred Burghe, and he was evidently resolved to remain above them, and to watch for an opportunity for getting above James and John Middleton, who were equally resolved that no such opportunity should be afforded him. This was a generous emulation encouraged by Mr. Middleton, who was accustomed to say, laughingly, to his boys:

"Take care, my sons! You know Ishmael is a dead shot! Let him once bring you down, and you will never get up again!"

And to Ishmael:

"Persevere, my lad! Some fine day you will catch them tripping, and take a step higher in the cla.s.s." And he declared to Mrs. Middleton that his own sons had never progressed so rapidly in their studies as now that they had found in Ishmael Worth a worthy compet.i.tor to spur them on.

Upon that very account, he said, the boy was invaluable in the school.

Well, John and James had all Ishmael's industry and ambition, but they had not his genius! consequently they were soon distanced in the race by our boy. Ishmael got above James, and kept his place; then he got above John, at the head of the cla.s.s, and kept that place also; and finally he got so far ahead of all his cla.s.smates that, not to r.e.t.a.r.d his progress, Mr. Middleton felt obliged to advance him a step higher and place him beside Walter who, up to this time, had stood alone, unapproached and unapproachable, at the head of the school.

John and James, being generous rivals, saw this well-merited advancement without "envy, hatred or malice"; but to Alfred ind Benjamin Burghe it was as gall and wormwood.

Walter was, of course, as yet much in advance of Ishmael; but, in placing the boys together, Mr. Middleton had said:

"Now, Walter, you are about to be put upon your very best mettle.

Ishmael will certainly overtake you, and if you are not very careful he will soon surpa.s.s you."

The n.o.ble boy laughed as he replied:

"After what I have seen of Ishmael for the last two or three years, father, I dare not make any promises! I think I am a fair match for most youths of my age; and I should not mind competing with industry alone, or talent alone, or with a moderate amount of both united in one boy; but, really, when it comes to competing with invincible genius combined with indomitable perseverence, I do not enter into the contest with any very sanguine hopes of success."

The youth's previsions proved true. Before the year was out Ishmael stood by his side, his equal, and bidding fair to become his superior.

Mr. Middleton had too much magnanimity to feel any little paternal jealousy on this account. He knew that his own son was highly gifted in moral and intellectual endowments, and he was satisfied; and if Ishmael Worth was even his son's superior in these respects, the generous man only rejoiced the more in contemplating the higher excellence.

Commodore Burghe was also proud of his protege. He was not very well pleased that his own sons were eclipsed by the brighter talents of the peasant boy; but he only shrugged his shoulders as he said:

"You know the Bible says that 'gifts are divers,' my friend. Well, my two boys will never be brilliant scholars, that is certain; but I hope, for that very reason, Alf may make the braver soldier and Ben the bolder sailor." And having laid this flattering unction to his soul, the old man felt no malice against our boy for outshining his own sons.

Not so the Burghe boys themselves. Their natures were essentially low; and this low nature betrayed itself in their very faces, forms, and manners. They were short and thickset, with bull necks, bullet heads, shocks of thick black hair, low foreheads, large mouths, dark complexions, and sullen expressions. They were very much alike in person and in character. The only difference being that Alf was the bigger and the wickeder and Ben the smaller and the weaker.

Against Ishmael they had many grudges, the least of which was cause enough with them for lifelong malice. First, on that memorable occasion of the robbed carriage, he had exposed their theft and their falsehood.

Secondly, he had had the good luck to save their lives and win everlasting renown for the brave act; and this, to churlish, thankless, and insolent natures like theirs, was the greater offense of the two; and now he had had the unpardonable impudence to eclipse them in the school. He! the object of their father's bounty, as they called him.

They lost no opportunity of sneering at him whenever they dared to do so.

Ishmael Worth could very well afford to practice forbearance towards these ill-conditioned lads. He was no longer the poor, sickly, and self-doubting child he had been but a year previous. Though still delicate as to his physique, it was with an elegant, refined rather than a feeble and sickly delicacy. He grew very much like his father, who was one of the handsomest men of his day; but it was from his mother that he derived his sweet voice and his beautiful peculiarity of smiling only with his eyes. His school-life had, besides, taught him more than book learning; it had taught him self-knowledge. He had been forced to measure himself with others, and find out his relative moral and intellectual standing. His success at school, and the appreciation he received from others, had endowed him with a self-respect and confidence easily noticeable in the modest dignity and grace of his air and manner.

In these respects also his deportment formed a favorable contrast to the shame-faced, half-sullen, and half-defiant behavior of the Burghes.

These boys were the only enemies Ishmael possessed in the school; his sweetness of spirit had, on the contrary, made him many friends. He was ever ready to do any kindness to anyone; to give up his own pleasure for the convenience of others; to help forward a backward pupil, or to enlighten a dull one. This goodness gained him grateful partisans among the boys; but he had, also, disinterested ones among the girls.

Claudia and Beatrice were his self-const.i.tuted little lady-patronesses.

The Burghes did not dare to sneer at Ishmael's humble position in their presence. For, upon the very first occasion that Alfred had ventured a sarcasm at the expense of Ishmael in her hearing, Claudia had so shamed him for insulting a youth to whose bravery he was indebted for his life, that even Master Alfred had had the grace to blush, and ever afterward had avoided exposing himself to a similar scorching.

In this little world of the schoolroom there was a little unconscious drama beginning to be performed.

I said that Claudia and Beatrice had const.i.tuted themselves the little lady-patronesses of the poor boy. But there was a difference in their manner towards their protege.

The dark-eyed, dark-haired, imperious young heiress patronized him in a right royal manner, trotting him out, as it were, for the inspection of her friends, and calling their attention to his merits--so surprising in a boy of his station; very much, I say, as she would have exhibited the accomplishments of her dog, Fido, so wonderful in a brute! very much, ah! as d.u.c.h.esses patronize promising young poets.

This was at times so humiliating to Ishmael that his self-respect must have suffered terribly, fatally, but for Beatrice.

The fair-haired, blue-eyed, and gentle Bee had a much finer, more delicate, sensitive, and susceptible nature than her cousin; she understood Ishmael better, and sympathized with him more than Claudia could. She loved and respected him as an elder brother, and indeed more than she did her elder brothers; for he was much superior to both in physical, moral, and intellectual beauty. Bee felt all this so deeply that she honored in Ishmael her ideal of what a boy ought to be, and what she wished her brothers to become.