Chapter XII.
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.
As time went on Philip and Tom found many common interests, and became,on the whole, good comrades; but they had occasional tiffs, as was tobe expected, and at one time had a serious difference which promised tobe final.
This occurred shortly before Maggie's second visit to Tom. She wasgoing to a boarding school with Lucy, and wished to see Tom beforesetting out.
When Maggie came, she could not help looking with growing interest atthe new schoolfellow, although he was the son of that wicked LawyerWakem who made her father so angry. She had arrived in the middle ofschool hours, and had sat by while Philip went through his lessons withMr. Stelling.
Tom, some weeks before, had sent her word that Philip knew no end ofstories--not stupid stories like hers; and she was convinced now thathe must be very clever. She hoped he would think her rather clever toowhen she came to talk to him.
"I think Philip Wakem seems a nice boy, Tom," she said, when they wentout of the study together into the garden. "He couldn't choose hisfather, you know; and I've read of very bad men who had good sons, aswell as good parents who had bad children. And if Philip is good, Ithink we ought to be the more sorry for him because his father is not agood man. You like him, don't you?"
"Oh, he's a queer fellow," said Tom curtly, "and he's as sulky as canbe with me, because I told him one day his father was a rogue. And I'da right to tell him so, for it was true; and he began it, with callingme names. But you stop here by yourself a bit, Magsie, will you?I've got something I want to do upstairs."
"Can't I go too?" said Maggie, who, in this first day of meeting again,loved Tom's very shadow.
"No; it's something I'll tell you about by-and-by, not yet," said Tom,skipping away.
In the afternoon the boys were at their books in the study, preparingthe morrow's lessons, that they might have a holiday in the evening inhonour of Maggie's arrival. Tom was hanging over his Latin Grammar,and Philip, at the other end of the room, was busy with two volumesthat excited Maggie's curiosity; he did not look at all as if he werelearning a lesson. She sat on a low stool at nearly a right angle withthe two boys, watching first one and then the other.
"I say, Magsie," said Tom at last, shutting his books, "I've done mylessons now. Come upstairs with me."
"What is it?" said Maggie, when they were outside the door. "It isn'ta trick you're going to play me, now?"
"No, no, Maggie," said Tom, in his most coaxing tone; "it's somethingyou'll like ever so."
He put his arm round her neck, and she put hers round his waist, and,twined together in this way, they went upstairs.
"I say, Magsie, you must not tell anybody, you know," said Tom, "else Ishall get fifty lines."
"Is it alive?" said Maggie, thinking that Tom kept a ferret.
"Oh, I shan't tell you," said he. "Now you go into that corner andhide your face while I reach it out," he added, as he locked thebedroom door behind them. "I'll tell you when to turn round. Youmustn't squeal out, you know."
"Oh, but if you frighten me, I shall," said Maggie, beginning to lookrather serious.
"You won't be frightened, you silly thing," said Tom. "Go and hideyour face, and mind you don't peep."
"Of course I shan't peep," said Maggie disdainfully; and she buried herface in the pillow like a person of strict honour.
But Tom looked round warily as he walked to the closet; then he steppedinto the narrow space, and almost closed the door. Maggie kept herface buried until Tom called out, "Now, then, Magsie!"
Nothing but very careful study could have enabled Tom to present sostriking a figure as he did to Maggie when she looked up. With someburnt cork he had made himself a pair of black eyebrows that met overhis nose, and were matched by a blackness about the chin. He had wounda red handkerchief round his cloth cap to give it the air of a turban,and his red comforter across his breast as a scarf--an amount of redwhich, with the frown on his brow, and the firmness with which hegrasped a real sword, as he held it with its point resting on theground, made him look very fierce and bloodthirsty indeed.
Maggie looked bewildered for a moment, and Tom enjoyed that momentkeenly; but in the next she laughed, clapped her hands together, andsaid, "O Tom, you've made yourself like Bluebeard at the show."
It was clear she had not been struck with the presence of the sword--itwas not unsheathed. Her foolish mind required a more direct appeal toits sense of the terrible; and Tom prepared for his master-stroke.Frowning fiercely, he (carefully) drew the sword--a real one--from itssheath and pointed it at Maggie.
"O Tom, please don't," cried Maggie, in a tone of dread, shrinking awayfrom him into the opposite corner; "I shall scream--I'm sure I shall!Oh, don't! I wish I'd never come upstairs!"
"O Tom, please don't,", cried Maggie.]
The corners of Tom's mouth showed an inclination to a smile that wasimmediately checked. Slowly he let down the scabbard on the floor lestit should make too much noise, and then said sternly,--
"I'm the Duke of Wellington! March!" stamping forward with the rightleg a little bent, and the sword still pointed towards Maggie, who,trembling, and with tear-filled eyes, got upon the bed, as the onlymeans of widening the space between them.
Tom, happy in this spectator, even though it was only Maggie, proceededto such an exhibition of the cut and thrust as would be expected of theDuke of Wellington.
"Tom, I will not bear it--I will scream," said Maggie, at the firstmovement of the sword. "You'll hurt yourself; you'll cut your headoff!"
"One--two," said Tom firmly, though at "two" his wrist trembled alittle. "Three" came more slowly, and with it the sword swungdownwards, and Maggie gave a loud shriek. The sword had fallen withits edge on Tom's foot, and in a moment after he had fallen too.
Maggie leaped from the bed, still shrieking, and soon there was a rushof footsteps towards the room. Mr. Stelling, from his upstairs study,was the first to enter. He found both the children on the floor. Tomhad fainted, and Maggie was shaking him by the collar of his jacket,screaming, with wild eyes.
She thought he was dead, poor child! And yet she shook him, as if thatwould bring him back to life. In another minute she was sobbing withjoy because Tom had opened his eyes. She couldn't sorrow yet that hehad hurt his foot; it seemed as if all happiness lay in his being alive.
In a very short time the wounded hero was put to bed, and a surgeon wasfetched, who dressed the wound with a serious face which greatlyimpressed every one.
Chapter XIII.
PHILIP AND MAGGIE.
Poor Tom bore his severe pain like a hero, but there was a terribledread weighing on his mind--so terrible that he dared not ask thequestion which might bring the fatal "yes"--he dared not ask thesurgeon or Mr. Stelling, "Shall I be lame, sir?"
It had not occurred to either of these gentlemen to set the lad's mindat rest with hopeful words. But Philip watched the surgeon out of thehouse, and waylaid Mr. Stelling to ask the very question that Tom hadnot dared to ask for himself.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but does Mr. Askern say Tulliver will be lame?"
"Oh no, oh no," said Mr. Stelling; "only for a little while."
"Did he tell Tulliver so, sir, do you think?"
"No; nothing was said to him on the subject."
"Then I may go and tell him, sir?"
"Yes, to be sure. Now you mention it, I dare say he may be troublingabout that. Go to his bedroom, but be very quiet."
It had been Philip's first thought when he heard of the accident, "WillTulliver be lame? It will be very hard for him if he is." And Tom'soffences against himself were all washed out by that pity.
"Mr. Askern says you'll soon be all right again, Tulliver; did youknow?" he said, rather timidly, as he stepped gently up to Tom's bed."I've just been to ask Mr. Stelling, and he says you'll walk as well asever again, by-and-by."
Tom looked up with that stopping of the breath which comes with asudden joy; then he g
ave a long sigh, and turned his blue-gray eyesstraight on Philip's face, as he had not done for a fortnight or more.As for Maggie, the bare idea of Tom's being always lame overcame her,and she clung to him and cried afresh.
"Don't be a little silly, Magsie," said Tom tenderly, feeling verybrave now. "I shall soon get well."
"Good-bye, Tulliver," said Philip, putting out his small, delicatehand, which Tom clasped with his strong fingers.
"I say," said Tom, "ask Mr. Stelling to let you come and sit with mesometimes, till I get up again, Wakem, and tell me about Robert Bruce,you know."
After that Philip spent all his time out of lesson hours with Tom andMaggie. Tom liked to hear fighting stories as much as ever; but hesaid he was sure that those great fighters, who did so many wonderfulthings and came off unhurt, wore excellent armour from head to foot,which made fighting easy work.
One day, soon after Philip had been to visit Tom, he and Maggie were inthe study alone together while Tom's foot was being dressed. Philipwas at his books, and Maggie went and leaned on the table near him tosee what he was doing; for they were quite old friends now, andperfectly at home with each other.
"What are you reading about in Greek?" she said. "It's poetry; I cansee that, because the lines are so short."
"It's about the lame man I was telling you of yesterday," he answered,resting his head on his hand, and looking at her as if he were not atall sorry to stop. Maggie continued to lean forward, resting on herarms, while her dark eyes got more and more fixed and vacant, as if shehad quite forgotten Philip and his book.
"Maggie," said Philip, after a minute or two, still leaning on hiselbow and looking at her, "if you had had a brother like me, do youthink you should have loved him as well as Tom?"
Maggie started a little and said, "What?" Philip repeated his question.
"Oh yes--better," she answered immediately. "No, not better, because Idon't think I could love you better than Tom; but I should be sosorry--so sorry for you."
Philip coloured. Maggie, young as she was, felt her mistake. Hithertoshe had behaved as if she were quite unconscious of Philip's deformity.
"But you are so very clever, Philip, and you can play and sing," sheadded quickly. "I wish you were my brother. I'm very fond of you.And you would stay at home with me when Tom went out, and you wouldteach me everything, wouldn't you--Greek, and everything?"
"But you'll go away soon, and go to school, Maggie," said Philip, "andthen you'll forget all about me, and not care for me any more. Andthen I shall see you when you're grown up, and you'll hardly take anynotice of me."
"Oh no, I shan't forget you, I'm sure," said Maggie, shaking her headvery seriously. "I never forget anything, and I think about everybodywhen I'm away from them. I think about poor Yap. He's got a lump inhis throat, and Luke says he'll die. Only don't you tell Tom, becauseit will vex him so. You never saw Yap. He's a queer little dog;nobody cares about him but Tom and me."
"Do you care as much about me as you do about Yap, Maggie?" saidPhilip, smiling rather sadly.
"Oh yes, I should think so," said Maggie, laughing.
"I'm very fond of you, Maggie; I shall never forget you," said Philip."And when I'm very unhappy, I shall always think of you, and wish I hada sister with dark eyes, just like yours."
"Why do you like my eyes?" said Maggie, well pleased. She had neverheard of any one but her father speak of her eyes as if they had merit.
"I don't know," said Philip. "They're not like any other eyes. Theyseem trying to speak--trying to speak kindly. I don't like otherpeople to look at me much, but I like you to look at me, Maggie."
"Why, I think you're fonder of me than Tom is," said Maggie. Then,wondering how she could convince Philip that she could like him just aswell, although he was crooked, she said,--
"Should you like me to kiss you, as I do Tom? I will, if you like."
"Yes, very much. Nobody kisses me."
Maggie put her arm round his neck and kissed him.
"There now," she said; "I shall always remember you, and kiss you whenI see you again, if it's ever so long. But I'll go now, because Ithink Mr. Askern's done with Tom's foot."
When their father came the second time, Maggie said to him, "O father,Philip Wakem is so very good to Tom; he is such a clever boy, and I dolove him.--And you love him too, Tom, don't you? Say you love him,"she added entreatingly.
Tom coloured a little as he looked at his father, and said, "I shan'tbe friends with him when I leave school, father. But we've made it upnow, since my foot has been bad; and he's taught me to play atdraughts, and I can beat him."
"Well, well," said Mr. Tulliver, "if he's good to you, try and make himamends and be good to him. He's a poor crooked creatur, and takesafter his dead mother. But don't you be getting too thick with him;he's got his father's blood in him too."
* * * * *
By the time Tom had reached his last quarter at King's Lorton the yearshad made striking changes in him. He was a tall youth now, and worehis tail-coat and his stand-up collars. Maggie, too, was tall now,with braided and coiled hair. She was almost as tall as Tom, thoughshe was only thirteen; and she really looked older than he did.
At last the day came when Tom was to say good-bye to his tutor, andMaggie came over to King's Lorton to fetch him home. Mr. Stelling puthis hand on Tom's shoulder, and said, "God bless you, my boy; let meknow how you get on." Then he pressed Maggie's hand; but there were noaudible good-byes. Tom had so often thought how joyful he should bethe day he left school "for good." And now that the great event hadcome, his school years seemed like a holiday that had come to an end.
THE END
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