The Master of the Shell Part 41

"It is," said Railsford, feeling uncomfortable. And here the conservation ended.

Railsford had not been long in his room that evening when Sir Digby Oakshott knocked at the door and entered with a long face.

"Please, sir, have you seen anything of Herapath?" said he. "He's not turned up."

"What--are you sure?"

"I've asked them all. All the others have come. I expect he'll get pretty drenched if he's lost his way."

"He can't have lost the way--it's too simple. What was he doing at the abbey when you last saw him?"

"Going after owls," said Dig.

"Where?"

"On the big window. We got to the top, you know; and I came down as soon as I saw you all starting; and he shouted that he would be down in a second, and was going to walk home; and we weren't to wait. I say, I wonder if he's got stuck up there, or come a cropper?"

Dig's face was pale as the thought flashed across his mind. Railsford was not a bit less concerned.

"Go quickly and see if Mr Roe has sent away his trap, and, if not, keep it. If it has gone, go to Jason's and get one directly, Oakshott."

In five minutes the baronet returned.

"I can't get a trap anywhere," said he dismally, "but I've got Jason to send a horse."

"That will do," said Railsford, hurrying down.

"Will it do?" groaned Dig. "_I_ can't go too! Oh, Mr Railsford,"

shouted he, as the master was jumping into the saddle, "what road shall you come back by?"

"Maiden Hill," said the master, digging his heels into the horse's side.

With a heavy heart Digby watched him start, and then putting on his cap determinedly, followed him on foot into the night and rain.

"I shall do it in two hours and a half," said he to himself, "if I trot part of the way. What a cad I was to leave him up there!"

It was not till bed-time at Railsford's that fellows generally became aware that the master and two of the boys were missing. Railsford and Oakshott had both been seen in the school after their return from the picnic. Railsford had, of course, depended on the boy to explain his sudden absence, and Dig had been too miserable and excited to think of telling anybody as he started on his weary tramp.

The first inquiry for the missing ones came from the doctor, who, after his interview with Felgate, sent a messenger over to the Master of the Sh.e.l.l to request his presence in the head-master's study at once. The messenger returned to report that Mr Railsford was not in, and no one knew where he was gone. Then, the hue and cry being once raised, it appeared that Arthur and Dig's study was also empty and that its owners were nowhere to be found.

Presently the school gatekeeper reported that on coming up from the town just now he had seen Mr Railsford galloping on one of Jason's horses in the direction of the London road! And Munger, who had been out of bounds, reported in private (because the disclosure might get him into trouble if it came to the ears of the authorities) that just as he was sneaking in at the gate he met Sir Digby Oakshott, Baronet, sneaking out.

The doctor, who might never have heard of the affair, had he not chanced to want to see Railsford particularly that evening, walked over to the house about bed-time and interviewed Ainger.

"Have you the slightest idea what it all means?" asked the head-master.

"Not the slightest, sir," said Ainger shortly. If he had had, he would have spoken long ago, as the doctor knew--or should have known.

"No one is to stay up," said the doctor, "and I wish you to take charge of the order of the house in Mr Railsford's absence, Ainger.

Circ.u.mstances have occurred which may make it necessary to remove Felgate to another house, meanwhile he has forfeited his prefecture here."

And the doctor went away, leaving the captain of Railsford's with a new perplexity piled up on all the others.

Whereupon Ainger sent his house to bed; and threatened them with all sorts of penalties if lights were not out and all quiet by 9.30. It was a sleepless night for a good many in Grandcourt. Mr Roe and Grover sat up together in the rooms of the former, anxious and perplexed about their missing friend. Mr Bickers walked about his room too, and wondered if his game was to slip through his fingers after all. And Felgate lay awake and laughed to himself in the conviction that to him belonged the glory of hunting the scoundrel from Grandcourt. And Maple, Simson, Tilbury, and Dimsdale, in the Sh.e.l.l dormitory lay awake too, and strained their ears at every sound in the court below, and wondered ruefully what had become of their two missing comrades.

Dig, as he ploughed his way footsore and weary through the rain and mud of Maiden Hill, down which he had shot at such a glorious pace not twelve hours before, thought wistfully once or twice of that warm dry bed in the dormitory and the friendly voices of his allies there a.s.sembled. But he would never return there without old Arthur! In the times of their prosperity and security those two boys had often quarrelled, often neglected one another, often forgotten all about one another; and a casual onlooker might have said, "They are not friends-- they are no more to one another than any other two boys in the school."

Ah, but if the critic could have looked into Dig's heavy heart as he floundered through the mud that night he would have told a different tale. Often enough our friend seems to us like an ordinary friend. We have our little tiffs and our little reconciliations; we have our mutual jokes and our time-honoured arguments. We say good-bye with unruffled spirits, and meet again with an unimpa.s.sioned nod. But now and again the testing time comes. The storm breaks over our heads, the thunder rolls round us. Then the grip of our hands tightens, we find that, we are not friends, but brothers; and the lightning flash reveals to us, what we never suspected before, that there is something in the world dearer to us even than life; and as our hearts sink we envy those happy people, who, by their simple trust in their Saviour and in the all- pervading Goodness, are able to face with courage both Life and Death.

Dig stumbled on, dead beat, losing heart, at every step, and stopping sometimes to take breath with a gasp which sounded ominously like a sob.

The long hill seemed interminable; there was no glimmer of a light anywhere to cheer him; no clatter of a horse's hoofs to ring hope into his heart. All was black, and wet, and dreary. What if he should find the abbey deserted, and have to walk home--alone! He had nearly reached the ruin when he stumbled against two men conversing in the middle of the road. To his inexpressible relief one of them was Railsford.

"Mr Railsford!" gasped the boy, springing upon the master with a suddenness which made both men start, "is that you? Where's Arthur?

Have you found him?"

"He's all right--he's on the top of the window still, and we can't get him down till daylight. I'm just arranging with Farmer White to bring a ladder."

Dig made a dash in the direction of the abbey gate.

"Where are you going?" said Railsford.

"I'm going to hop up beside him," shouted Dig, almost beside himself with relief.

The master caught him firmly by the arm.

"If you think of such a thing, Oakshott, I shall get Farmer White here to cart you straight back to Grandcourt."

This terrible threat sobered Dig at once. He waited impatiently till the two men had made their arrangements, and then, with beating heart, accompanied the master to the ruin.

"He is safe up where he is," said the latter, "and says he has room to sit down and a back of ivy to lean against. But he must be half drowned and frozen. It will do him good to know you are here. Now stay where you are, while I get on the wall and shout to him. He cannot hear us down here." Dig waited, and listened to the master scrambling up the ivy and feeling his way on his hands and knees along the wall to the bottom of the arch.

Then he heard him shout--

"Arthur, are you there, all right?"

And his heart leapt as a shrill reply came back from the heights.

"Oakshott is here with me," shouted the master.

It was all a mistake about not being able to hear from the level ground.

Dig heard the "Hallo! what cheer, Dig?" as plainly as he heard Railsford himself.

"What cheer?" he howled in reply. "Keep up your p.e.c.k.e.r, old man."

"Rather!" yelled Arthur.

Then Dig begged and besought Railsford to allow him to mount at least to where the latter stood, and the master made him happy by consenting.

From this point it was easy to carry on a talk; and there in the rain through the dark watches of the night those three had one of the most profitable conversations they had ever enjoyed. A yokel who chanced to pa.s.s, hearing those weird, celestial voices, took to his heels and ran a mile straight off, and reported with ashy face and trembling lips that a ghost had appeared on the arch of the abbey as he pa.s.sed, and called to him thrice, and had shrieked with demoniacal laughter as he hurried from the accursed place.