Mildred Arkell Volume Iii Part 15

"I'll give them to him, Mr. Dean," heartily responded the master, whose ears had been so scandalised by the mysterious allusions to Rutterley's, that he would have liked to treat the whole school to "tasks" and to something else, all round. "I'll give them to him."

"You see what a Tom-fool you have made of yourself!" grumbled Prattleton senior to Aultane, as the latter returned to his desk, laden with work.

"That's all the good you have got by splitting to the dean."

"I wish the dean was in the sea, I do!" madly cried Aultane, as he savagely watched the retreat of that very reverend divine, who went out carrying the gold medal between his fingers, and followed by Mr. St.

John. "And I wish that brute, St. John was hung! He----"

Aultane's words and bravery alike faded into silence, for the two were coming back again. The master stood up.

"I forgot to tell you, Mr. Wilberforce, that I have recommended Henry Arkell to take a holiday for a day or two. That was a violent fall yesterday; and his fainting afterwards struck me as not wearing a favourable appearance."

"Have you seen him, Mr. Dean?"

"I saw him an hour ago, just before service. I was going by the house as he came out of it, on his way to college, I suppose. It is a strange thing what it could have been that caused the fall."

"So it is," replied the master. "I was inquiring about it just now, but the school does not seem to know anything."

"Neither does he, so far as I can learn. At any rate, rest will be best for him for a day or two."

"No doubt it will, Mr. Dean. Thank you for thinking of it."

They finally went out, St. John casting a significant look behind him, at the boys in general, at Aultane junior in particular. It said as plainly as looks could say, "I'd not peach again, boys, if I were you;"

and Aultane junior, but for the restraining presence of the head master, would a.s.suredly have sent a yell after him.

How much St. John told of the real truth to the dean, that the medal _had_ been pledged, we must leave between them. The school never knew.

Henry himself never knew. St. John quitted the dean at the deanery, and went on to restore the medal to its owner: although Georgina Beauclerc was standing at one of the deanery windows, looking down expectantly, as if she fancied he was going in.

Travice was at that moment at Peter Arkell's, perched upon a side-table, as he talked to them. Henry leaned rather languidly back in an elbow-chair, his fingers pressed upon his head; Lucy was at work near the window; Mrs. Peter, looking very ill, sat at the table. Travice had not been at service on the previous afternoon, and the accident had been news to him this morning.

"But how did you fall?" he was asking with uncompromising plainness, being unable to get any clear information on the point. "What threw you down?"

"Well--I fell," answered Henry.

"Of course you fell. But how? The pa.s.sage is all clear between the seats of the king's scholars and the cross benches; there's nothing for you to strike your foot against; how _did_ you fall?"

"There was some confusion at the time, Travice; the first lesson was just over, and the people were rising for the cantate. I was walking very fast, too."

"But something must have thrown you down: unless you turned giddy, and fell of your own accord."

"I felt giddy afterwards," returned Henry, who had been speaking with his hand mostly before his eyes, and seemed to answer the questions with some reluctance. "I feel giddy now."

"I think, Travice, he scarcely remembers how it happened," spoke Mrs.

Arkell. "Don't press him; he seems tired. I am so glad the dean gave him holiday."

At this juncture, Mr. St. John came in with the medal. He stayed a few minutes, telling Harry he should take him for a drive in the course of the day, which Mrs. Arkell negatived; she thought it might not be well for the giddiness he complained of in the head. St. John took his leave, and Henry went with him outside, to hear the news in private of what had taken place in the college hall. Mrs. Arkell had left the room then, and Travice took the opportunity to approach Lucy.

"Does it strike you that there's any mystery about this fall, Lucy?"

"Mystery!" she repeated, raising her eyes. "In what way?"

"It is one of two things: either that he does not remember how he fell, or that he won't tell. I think it is the latter; there is a restraint in his manner when speaking of it: an evident reluctance to speak."

"But why should he not speak of it?"

"There lies what I call the mystery. A sensational word, you will say, for so slight a matter. I may be wrong--if you have not noticed anything. What's that you are so busy over?"

Lucy held it up to the light, blushing excessively at the same time. It was Harry's rowing jersey, and it was getting the worse for wear.

Boating would soon be coming in.

"It wants darning nearly all over, it is so thin," she said. "And the difficulty is to darn it so that the darn shall be neither seen nor suspected on the right side."

"Can't you patch it?" asked Travice.

She laughed out loud. "Would Harry go rowing in a patched jersey? Would you, Travice?"

He laughed too. "I don't think I should much mind it."

"Ah, but you are Travice Arkell," she said, her seriousness returning.

"A rich man may go about without shoes if he likes; but a poor one must not be seen even in mended ones."

"True: it's the way of the world, Lucy. Well, I should mend that jersey with a new one. Why, you'll be a whole day over it."

"I dare say I shall be two. Travice, there's Mr. St. John looking round for you. He was beckoning. Did you not see him.

"No, I only saw you," answered Travice, in a tone that was rather a significant one. "I see now; he wants me. Good-bye, Lucy."

He took her hand in his. There was little necessity for it, seeing that he came in two or three times a day. And he kept it longer than he need have done.

CHAPTER VII.

CARR VERSUS CARR.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and a crowd of busy idlers was gathered round the Guildhall at Westerbury, for the great cause was being brought on--Carr _versus_ Carr.

That they could not get inside, you may be very sure, or they would not have been round it. In point of fact, the trial had not been expected to come on before the Tuesday; but in the course of Monday morning two causes had been withdrawn, and the Carr case was called on. The Nisi Prius Court immediately became filled to inconvenience, and at two o'clock the trial began.

It progressed equably for some time, and then there arose a fierce discussion touching the register. Mr. Fauntleroy's counsel, Serjeant Wrangle, declaring the marriage was there up to very recently; and Mynn and Mynn's counsel, Serjeant Siftem, ridiculing the a.s.sertion. The judge called for the register.

It was produced and examined. The marriage was not there, neither was there any sign of its having been abstracted. Lawrence Omer was called by Serjeant Wrangle; and he testified to having searched the register, seen the inscribed marriage, and copied the names of the witnesses to it. In proof of this, he tendered his pocket-book, where the names were written in pencil.

Up rose Serjeant Siftem. "What day was this, pray?"

"It was the 4th of November."

"And so you think you saw, amidst the many marriages entered in the register, that of Robert Carr and Martha Ann Hughes?"