TARLTON.
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,— To teach the young idea how to shoot,— To pour the fresh instruction o’er the mind,— To breathe th’ enlivening spirit,—and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
THOMSON.
YOUNG HARDY was educated by Mr. Freeman, a very excellent master, at oneof our rural Sunday schools. He was honest, obedient, active andgood-natured, hence he was esteemed by his master; and being beloved byall his companions who were good, he did not desire to be loved by thebad; nor was he at all vexed or ashamed when idle, mischievous ordishonest boys attempted to plague or ridicule him. His friend Loveit,on the contrary, wished to be universally liked, and his highest ambitionwas to be thought the best natured boy in the school—and so he was. Heusually went by the name of _Poor Loveit_, and everybody pitied him whenhe got into disgrace, which he frequently did, for though he had a gooddisposition, he was led to do things which he knew to be wrong merelybecause he could never have the courage to say “_No_,” because he wasafraid to offend the ill-natured, and could not bear to be laughed at byfools.
One fine autumn evening, all the boys were permitted to go out to play ina pleasant green meadow near the school. Loveit and another boy, calledTarlton, began to play a game of battledore and shuttlecock, and a largeparty stood by to look on, for they were the best players at battledoreand shuttlecock in the school, and this was a trial of skill betweenthem. When they had got it up to three hundred and twenty, the gamebecame very interesting. The arms of the combatants tired that theycould scarcely wield the battledores. The shuttlecock began to waver inthe air; now it almost touched the ground, and now, to the astonishmentof the spectators, mounted again high over their heads: yet the strokesbecame feebler and feebler; and “Now, Loveit!” “Now, Tarlton!” resoundedon all sides. For another minute the victory was doubtful; but at lengththe setting sun, shining full in Loveit’s face, so dazzled his eyes thathe could no longer see the shuttlecock, and it fell at his feet.
After the first shout for Tarlton’s triumph was over, everybodyexclaimed, “Poor Loveit! he’s the best natured fellow in the world! Whata pity that he did not stand with his back to the sun!”
“Now, I dare you all to play another game with me,” cried Tarlton,vauntingly; and as he spoke, he tossed the shuttlecock up with all hisforce—with so much force that it went over the hedge and dropped into alane, which went close beside the field. “Hey-day!” said Tarlton, “whatshall we do now?”
The boys were strictly forbidden to go into the lane; and it was upontheir promise not to break this command, that they were allowed to playin the adjoining field.
No other shuttlecock was to be had and their play was stopped. Theystood on the top of the bank, peeping over the hedge. “I see it yonder,”said Tarlton; “I wish somebody would get it. One could get over the gateat the bottom of the field, and be back again in half a minute,” addedhe, looking at Loveit. “But you know we must not go into the lane,” saidLoveit, hesitatingly. “Pugh!” said Tarlton, “why, now, what harm couldit do?”
“I don’t know,” said Loveit, drumming upon his battledore; “but—”
“You don’t know, man! why, then, what are you afraid of, I ask you?”Loveit coloured, went on drumming, and again, in a lower voice, said “_hedidn’t know_.” But upon Tarlton’s repeating, in a more insolent tone, “Iask you, man, what you’re afraid of?” he suddenly left off drumming, andlooking round, said, “he was not afraid of anything that he knew of.”
“Yes, but you are,” said Hardy, coming forward.
“Am I?” said Loveit; “of what, pray, am I afraid?”
“Of doing wrong!”
“Afraid _of doing wrong_!” repeated Tarlton, mimicking him, so that hemade everybody laugh. “Now, hadn’t you better say afraid of beingflogged?”
“No,” said Hardy, coolly, after the laugh had somewhat subsided, “I am aslittle afraid of being flogged as you are, Tarlton; but I meant—”
“No matter what you meant; why should you interfere with your wisdom andyour meanings; nobody thought of asking _you_ to stir a step for us; butwe asked Loveit, because he’s the best fellow in the world.”
“And for that very reason you should not ask him, because, you know hecan’t refuse you anything.”
“Indeed, though,” cried Loveit, piqued, “_there_ you’re mistaken, for Icould refuse if I chose it.”
Hardy smiled; and Loveit, half afraid of his contempt, and half afraid ofTarlton’s ridicule, stood doubtful, and again had recourse to hisbattledore, which he balanced most curiously upon his forefinger. “Lookat him!—now do look at him!” cried Tarlton; “did you ever in your lifesee anybody look so silly?—Hardy has him quite under his thumb; he’s somortally afraid of Parson Prig, that he dare not, for the soul of him,turn either of his eyes from the tip of his nose; look how he squints!”
“I don’t squint,” said Loveit, looking up, “and nobody has me under histhumb! and what Hardy said was only for fear I should get in disgrace;he’s the best friend I have.”
Loveit spoke this with more than usual spirit, for both his heart and hispride were touched.
“Come along, then,” said Hardy, taking him by the arm in an affectionatemanner; and he was just going, when Tarlton called after him, “Ay, goalong with its best friend, and take care it does not get into ascrape;—good-bye, Little Panado!”
“Whom do they call Little Panado?” said Loveit, turning his head hastilyback.
“Never mind,” said Hardy, “what does it signify?”
“No,” said Loveit, “to be sure it does not signify; but one does not liketo be called Little Panado: besides,” added he, after going a few stepsfarther, “they’ll all think it so ill-natured. I had better go back, andjust tell them that I’m very sorry I can’t get their shuttlecock; do comeback with me.”
“No,” said Hardy, “I can’t go back; and you’d better not.”
“But, I assure you, I won’t stay a minute; wait for me,” added Loveit;and he slunk back again to prove that he was not Little Panado.
Once returned, the rest followed, of course; for to support his characterof good-nature he was obliged to yield to the entreaties of hiscompanions, and to show his spirit, leapt over the gate, amidst theacclamations of the little mob:—he was quickly out of sight.
“Here,” cried he, returning in about five minutes, quite out of breath,“I’ve got the shuttlecock; and I’ll tell you what I’ve seen,” cried he,panting for breath.
“What?” cried everybody, eagerly.
“Why, just at the turn of the corner, at the end of the lane”—panting.
“Well,” said Tarlton, impatiently, “do go on.”
“Let me just take breath first.”
“Pugh—never mind your breath.”
“Well, then, just at the turn of the corner, at the end of the lane, as Iwas looking about for the shuttlecock, I heard a great rustling somewherenear me, and so I looked where it could come from; and I saw, in a nicelittle garden, on the opposite side of the way, a boy, about as big asTarlton, sitting in a great tree, shaking the branches: so I called tothe boy, to beg one; but he said he could not give me one, for that theywere his grandfather’s; and just at that minute, from behind a gooseberrybush, up popped the uncle; the grandfather poked his head out of thewindow; so I ran off as fast as my legs would carry me though I heard himbawling after me all the way.”
“And let him bawl,” cried Tarlton; “he shan’t bawl for nothing; I’mdetermined we’ll have some of his fine large rosy apples before I sleepto-night.”
At this speech a general silence ensued; everybody kept their eyes fixedupon Tarlton, except Loveit, who looked down, apprehensive that he shouldbe drawn on much farther than he intended. “Oh, indeed!” said he tohimself, “as Hardy told me, I had better not have come back!”
Regardless of this confusion, Ta
rlton continued, “But before I say anymore, I hope we have no spies amongst us. If there is any one of youafraid to be flogged, let him march off this instant!”
Loveit coloured, bit his lips, wished to go, but had not the courage tomove first. He waited to see what everybody else would do: nobodystirred; so Loveit stood still.
“Well, then,” cried Tarlton, giving his hand to the boy next him, then tothe next, “your word and honour that you won’t betray me; but stand byme, and I’ll stand by you.” Each boy gave his hand and his promise;repeating, “Stand by me, and I’ll stand by you.”
Loveit hung back till the last; and had almost twisted off the button ofthe boy’s coat who screened him, when Tarlton came up, holding out hishand, “Come, Loveit, lad, you’re in for it: stand by me, and I’ll standby you.”
“Indeed, Tarlton,” expostulated he, without looking him in the face, “Ido wish you’d give up this scheme; I daresay all the apples are gone bythis time; I wish you would. Do, pray, give up this scheme.”
“What scheme, man? you have’n’t heard it yet; you may as well know yourtext before you begin preaching.”
The corners of Loveit’s mouth could not refuse to smile, though in hisheart he felt not the slightest inclination to laugh.
“Why, I don’t know you, I declare I don’t know you to-day,” said Tarlton;“you used to be the best natured most agreeable lad in the world, andwould do anything one asked you; but you’re quite altered of late, as wewere saying just now, when you skulked away with Hardy: come,—do, man,pluck up a little spirit, and be one of us, or you’ll make us all _hateyou_.”
“_Hate_ me!” repeated Loveit, with terror; “no, surely, you won’t all_hate_ me!” and he mechanically stretched out his hand which Tarltonshook violently, saying, “Ay, now, that’s right.”
“Ay, now, that’s wrong!” whispered Loveit’s conscience; but hisconscience was of no use to him, for it was always overpowered by thevoice of numbers; and though he had the wish, he never had the power, todo right. “Poor Loveit! I knew he would not refuse us,” cried hiscompanions; and even Tarlton, the moment he shook hands with him,despised him. It is certain that weakness of mind is despised both bythe good and the bad.
The league being thus formed, Tarlton assumed all the airs of commander,explained his schemes, and laid the plan of attack upon the poor oldman’s apple-tree. It was the only one he had the world. We shall notdwell upon their consultation; for the amusement of contriving suchexpeditions is often the chief thing which induces idle boys to engage inthem.
There was a small window at the end of the back staircase, through which,between nine and ten o’clock at night, Tarlton, accompanied by Loveit andanother boy, crept out. It was a moonlight night, and after crossing thefield, and climbing the gate, directed by Loveit, who now resolved to gothrough the affair with spirit, they proceeded down the lane with rashyet fearful steps.
At a distance Loveit saw the white washed cottage, and the apple-treebeside it. They quickened their pace, and with some difficulty scrambledthrough the hedge which fenced the garden, though not without beingscratched and torn by the briers. Everything was silent. Yet now andthen, at every rustling of the leaves, they started, and their heartsbeat violently. Once, as Loveit was climbing the apple-tree, he thoughthe heard a door in the cottage open, and earnestly begged his companionsto desist and return home. This, however, he could by no means persuadethem to do, until they had filled their pockets with apples; then, to hisgreat joy, they returned, crept in at the window and each retired, assoftly as possible, to his own apartment.
Loveit slept in the room with Hardy, whom he had left fast asleep, andwhom he now was extremely afraid of awakening. All the apples wereemptied out of Loveit’s pockets, and lodged with Tarlton till themorning, for fear the smell should betray the secret to Hardy. The roomdoor was apt to creak, but it was opened with such precaution, that nonoise could be heard, and Loveit found his friend as fast asleep as whenhe left him.
“Ah,” said he to himself, “how quietly he sleeps! I wish I had beensleeping too.” The reproaches of Loveit’s conscience, however, served noother purpose but to torment him; he had not sufficient strength of mindto be good. The very next night, in spite of all his fears, and all hispenitence, and all his resolutions, by a little fresh ridicule andpersuasion he was induced to accompany the same party on a similarexpedition. We must observe, that the necessity for continuing theirdepredations became stronger the third day; for, though at first only asmall party had been in the secret, by degrees it was divulged to thewhole school; and it was necessary to secure secrecy by sharing thebooty.
Everyone was astonished that Hardy, with all his quickness andpenetration, had not yet discovered their proceedings; but Loveit couldnot help suspecting that he was not quite so ignorant as he appeared tobe. Loveit had strictly kept his promise of secrecy; but he was by nomeans an artful boy; and in talking to his friend, conscious that he hadsomething to conceal, he was perpetually on the point of betrayinghimself; then recollecting his engagement, he blushed, stammered,bungled; and upon Hardy’s asking what he meant, would answer with asilly, guilty countenance, that he did not know; or abruptly break off,saying, “Oh nothing! nothing at all!”
It was in vain that he urged Tarlton to permit him to consult his friend.A gloom overspread Tarlton’s brow when he began to speak on the subject,and he always returned a peremptory refusal, accompanied with some suchtaunting expression as this—“I wish we had nothing to do with such asneaking fellow; he’ll betray us all, I see, before we have done withhim.”
“Well,” said Loveit to himself, “so I am abused after all, and called asneaking fellow for my pains; that’s rather hard, to be sure, when I’vegot so little by the job.”
In truth he had not got much; for in the division of the booty only oneapple, and half of another, which was only half ripe, happened to fall tohis share; though, to be sure, when they had all eaten their apples, hehad the satisfaction to hear everybody declare they were very sorry theyhad forgotten to offer some of theirs to “_poor Loveit_.”
In the meantime, the visits to the apple-tree had been now too frequentlyrepeated to remain concealed from the old man who lived in the cottage.He used to examine his only tree very frequently, and missing numbers ofrosy apples, which he had watched ripening, he, though not prone tosuspicion, began to think that there was something going wrong;especially as a gap was made in his hedge, and there were several smallfootsteps in his flower beds.
The good old man was not at all inclined to give pain to any livingcreature, much less to children, of whom he was particularly fond. Norwas he in the least avaricious, for though he was not rich, he had enoughto live upon, because he had been very industrious in his youth; and hewas always very ready to part with the little he had. Nor was he a crossold man. If anything would have made him angry, it would have been theseeing his favourite tree robbed, as he had promised himself the pleasureof giving his red apples to his grandchildren on his birthday. However,he looked up at the tree in sorrow rather than in anger, and leaning uponhis staff, he began to consider what he had best do.
“If I complain to their master,” said he to himself, “they will certainlybe flogged, and that I should be sorry for: yet they must not be let togo on stealing; that would be worse still, for it would surely bring themto the gallows in the end. Let me see—oh, ay, that will do; I willborrow farmer Kent’s dog Barker, he’ll keep them off, I’ll answer forit.”
Farmer Kent lent his dog Barker, cautioning his neighbour, at the sametime, to be sure to chain him well, for he was the fiercest mastiff inEngland. The old man, with farmer Kent’s assistance, chained him fast tothe trunk of the apple-tree.
Night came; and Tarlton, Loveit and his companions, returned at the usualhour. Grown bolder now by frequent success, they came on talking andlaughing. But the moment they had set their foot in the garden, the dogstarted up; and, shaking the chain as he sprang forward, barked withunremitting
fury. They stood still as if fixed to the spot. There wasjust moonlight enough to see the dog. “Let us try the other side of thetree,” said Tarlton. But to whichever side they turned, the dog flewround in an instant, barking with increased fury.
“He’ll break his chain and tear us to pieces,” cried Tarlton; and, struckwith terror, he immediately threw down the basket he had brought withhim, and betook himself to flight, with the greatest precipitation.“Help me! oh, pray, help me! I can’t get through the hedge,” criedLoveit, in a lamentable tone, whilst the dog growled hideously, andsprang forward to the extremity of his chain. “I can’t get out! Oh, forGod’s sake, stay for me one minute, dear Tarlton!” He called in vain; hewas left to struggle through his difficulties by himself; and of all hisdear friends not one turned back to help him. At last, torn andterrified, he got through the hedge and ran home, despising hiscompanions for their selfishness. Nor could he help observing thatTarlton, with all his vaunted prowess, was the first to run away from theappearance of danger.
The next morning Loveit could not help reproaching the party with theirconduct. “Why could not you, any of you, stay one minute to help me?”said he.
“We did not hear you call,” answered one.
“I was so frightened,” said another, “I would not have turned back forthe whole world.”
“And you, Tarlton?”
“I,” said Tarlton; “had not I enough to do to take care of myself, youblockhead? Everyone for himself in this world!”
“So I see,” said Loveit, gravely.
“Well, man! is there anything strange in that?”
“Strange! why, yes; I thought you all loved me!”
“Lord love you, lad! so we do; but we love ourselves better.”
“Hardy would not have served me so, however,” said Loveit, turning awayin disgust. Tarlton was alarmed. “Pugh!” said he; “what nonsense haveyou taken into your brain! Think no more about it. We are all verysorry, and beg your pardon; come, shake hands, forgive and forget.”
Loveit gave his hand, but gave it rather coldly. “I forgive it with allmy heart,” said he; “but I cannot forget it so soon!”
“Why, then, you are not such a good humoured fellow as we thought youwere. Surely you cannot bear malice, Loveit.” Loveit smiled, andallowed that he certainly could not bear malice. “Well, then, come; youknow at the bottom we all love you, and would do anything in the worldfor you.” Poor Loveit, flattered in his foible, began to believe thatthey did love him at the bottom, as they said, and even with his eyesopen consented again to be duped.
“How strange it is,” thought he, “that I should set such value upon thelove of those I despise! When I’m once out of this scrape, I’ll have nomore to do with them, I’m determined.”
Compared with his friend Hardy, his new associates did indeed appearcontemptible; for all this time Hardy had treated him with uniformkindness, avoided to pry into his secrets, yet seemed ready to receivehis confidence, if it had been offered.
After school in the evening, as he was standing silently beside Hardy,who was ruling a sheet of paper for him, Tarlton, in his brutal manner,came up, and seizing him by the arm, cried, “Come along with me, Loveit,I’ve something to say to you.”
“I can’t come now,” said Loveit, drawing away his arm.
“Ah, do come now,” said Tarlton, in a voice of persuasion.
“Well, I’ll come presently.”
“Nay, but do, pray; there’s a good fellow, come now, because I havesomething to say to you.”
“What is it you’ve got to say to me? I wish you’d let me alone,” saidLoveit; yet at the same time he suffered himself to be led away.
Tarlton took particular pains to humour him and bring him into temperagain; and even though he was not very apt to part with his playthings,went so far as to say, “Loveit, the other day you wanted a top; I’ll giveyou mine if you desire it.”
Loveit thanked him, and was overjoyed at the thought of possessing thistop. “But what did you want to say to me just now?”
“Ay, we’ll talk of that presently; not yet—when we get out of hearing.”
“Nobody is near us,” said Loveit.
“Come a little farther however,” said Tarlton, looking roundsuspiciously.
“Well now, well?”
“You know the dog that frightened us last night?”
“Yes.”
“It will never frighten us again.”
“Won’t it? how so?”
“Look here,” said Tarlton, drawing something from his pocket wrapped in ablue handkerchief.
“What’s that?” Tarlton opened it. “Raw meat!” exclaimed Loveit. “Howcame you by it?”
“Tom, the servant boy, Tom got it for me; and I’m to give him sixpence.”
“And is it for the dog?”
“Yes; I vowed I’d be revenged on him, and after this he’ll never barkagain.”
“Never bark again! What do you mean? Is it poison?” exclaimed Loveit,starting back with horror.
“Only poison for _a dog_,” said Tarlton, confused; “you could not lookmore shocking if it was poison for a Christian.”
Loveit stood for nearly a minute in profound silence. “Tarlton,” said heat last, in a changed tone and altered manner, “I did not know you; Iwill have no more to do with you.”
“Nay, but stay,” said Tarlton, catching hold of his arm, “stay; I wasonly joking.”
“Let go my arm—you were in earnest.”
“But then that was before I knew there was any harm. If you thinkthere’s any harm?”
“_If_,” said Loveit.
“Why, you know, I might not know; for Tom told me it’s a thing that’soften done. Ask Tom.”
“I’ll ask nobody! Surely we know better what’s right and wrong than Tomdoes.”
“But only just ask him, to hear what he’ll say.”
“I don’t want to hear what he’ll say,” cried Loveit, vehemently: “the dogwill die in agonies—in agonies! There was a dog poisoned at myfather’s—I saw him in the yard. Poor creature! He lay and howled andwrithed himself!”
“Poor creature! Well, there’s no harm done now,” cried Tarlton, in ahypocritical tone. But though he thought fit to dissemble with Loveit,he was thoroughly determined in his purpose.
Poor Loveit, in haste to get away, returned to his friend Hardy; but hismind was in such agitation, that he neither talked nor moved likehimself; and two or three times his heart was so full that he was readyto burst into tears.
“How good-natured you are to me,” said he to Hardy, as he was tryingvainly to entertain him; “but if you knew—” Here he stopped short, forthe bell for evening prayer rang, and they all took their places, andknelt down. After prayers, as they were going to bed, Loveit stoppedTarlton,—“_Well_!” asked he, in an inquiring manner, fixing his eyes uponhim.
“_Well_!” replied Tarlton, in an audacious tone, as if he meant to sethis inquiring eye at defiance.
“What do you mean to do to-night?”
“To go to sleep, as you do, I suppose,” replied Tarlton, turning awayabruptly, and whistling as he walked off.
“Oh, he has certainly changed his mind!” said Loveit to himself, “else hecould not whistle.”
About ten minutes after this, as he and Hardy were undressing, Hardysuddenly recollected that he had left his new kite out upon the grass.“Oh,” said he, “it will be quite spoiled before morning!”
“Call Tom,” said Loveit, “and bid him bring it in for you in a minute.”They both went to the top of the stairs to call Tom; no one answered.They called again louder, “Is Tom below?”
“I’m here,” answered he at last, coming out of Tarlton’s room with a lookof mixed embarrassment and effrontery. And as he was receiving Hardy’scommission, Loveit saw the corner of the blue handkerchief hanging out ofhis pocket. This excited fresh suspicions in Loveit’s mind; but, withoutsaying one word, he immediately stationed himself
at the window in hisroom, which looked out towards the lane; and, as the moon was risen, hecould see if anyone passed that way.
“What are you doing there?” said Hardy, after he had been watching sometime; “why don’t you come to bed?” Loveit returned no answer, butcontinued standing at the window. Nor did he watch long in vain.Presently he saw Tom gliding slowly along a by-path, and get over thegate into the lane.
“He’s gone to do it!” exclaimed Loveit aloud, with an emotion which hecould not command.
“Who’s gone? to do what?” cried Hardy, starting up.
“How cruel! how wicked!” continued Loveit.
“What’s cruel—what’s wicked? speak out at once!” returned Hardy, in thatcommanding tone which, in moments of danger, strong minds feel themselvesentitled to assume towards weak ones. Loveit instantly, though in anincoherent manner, explained the affair to him. Scarcely had the wordspassed his lips, when Hardy sprang up, and began dressing himself withoutsaying one syllable.
“For God’s sake, what are you going to do?” said Loveit, in greatanxiety. “They’ll never forgive me! don’t betray me! they’ll neverforgive! pray, speak to me! only say you won’t betray us.”
“I will not betray you, trust to me,” said Hardy: and he left the room,and Loveit stood in amazement; while, in the meantime, Hardy, in hopes ofovertaking Tom before the fate of the poor dog was decided, ran with allpossible speed across the meadow, then down the lane. He came up withTom just as he was climbing the bank into the old man’s garden. Hardy,too much out of breath to speak, seized hold of him, dragged him down,detaining him with a firm grasp, whilst he panted for utterance.
“What, Master Hardy, is it you? what’s the matter? what do you want?”
“I want the poisoned meat that you have in your pocket.”
“Who told you that I had any such thing?” said Tom, clapping his handupon his guilty pocket.
“Give it me quietly, and I’ll let you off.”
“Sir, upon my word I haven’t! I didn’t! I don’t know what you mean,”said Tom, trembling, though he was by far the stronger of the two.“Indeed, I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do,” said Hardy, with great indignation: and a violent struggleimmediately commenced.
The dog, now alarmed by the voices, began to bark outrageously. Tom wasterrified lest the old man should come out to see what was the matter;his strength forsook him, and flinging the handkerchief and meat over thehedge, he ran away with all his speed. The handkerchief fell withinreach of the dog, who instantly snapped at it; luckily it did not comeuntied. Hardy saw a pitchfork on a dunghill close beside him, and,seizing upon it, stuck it into the handkerchief. The dog pulled, tore,growled, grappled, yelled; it was impossible to get the handkerchief frombetween his teeth; but the knot was loosed, the meat, unperceived by thedog, dropped out, and while he dragged off the handkerchief in triumph,Hardy, with inexpressible joy, plunged the pitchfork into the poisonedmeat, and bore it away.
Never did hero retire with more satisfaction from a field of battle.Full of the pleasure of successful benevolence, Hardy tripped joyfullyhome, and vaulted over the window sill, when the first object he beheldwas Mr. Power, the usher, standing at the head of the stairs, with hiscandle in his hand.
“Come up, whoever you are,” said Mr. William Power, in a stern voice. “Ithought I should find you out at last. Come up, whoever you are!” Hardyobeyed without reply.—“Hardy!” exclaimed Mr. Power, starting back withastonishment; “is it you, Mr. Hardy?” repeated he, holding the light tohis face. “Why, sir,” said he, in a sneering tone, “I’m sure if Mr.Trueman was here he wouldn’t believe his own eyes; but for my part I sawthrough you long since; I never liked saints, for my share. Will youplease to do me the favour, sir, if it is not too much trouble, to emptyyour pockets.” Hardy obeyed in silence. “Heyday! meat! raw meat! whatnext?”
“That’s all,” said Hardy, emptying his pockets inside out.
“This is _all_,” said Mr. Power, taking up the meat.
“Pray, sir,” said Hardy, eagerly, “let that meat be burned, it ispoisoned.”
“Poisoned!” cried Mr. William Power, letting it drop out of his fingers;“you wretch!” looking at him with a menacing air: “what is all this?Speak.” Hardy was silent. “Why don’t you speak?” cried he, shaking himby the shoulder impatiently. Still Hardy was silent. “Down upon yourknees this minute and confess all: tell me where you’ve been, what you’vebeen doing, and who are your accomplices, for I know there is a gang ofyou; so,” added he, pressing heavily upon Hardy’s shoulder, “down uponyour knees this minute, and confess the whole, that’s your only way nowto get off yourself. If you hope for _my_ pardon, I can tell you it’snot to be had without asking for.”
“Sir,” said Hardy, in a firm but respectful voice, “I have no pardon toask, I have nothing to confess; I am innocent; but if I were not, I wouldnever try to get off myself by betraying my companions.”
“Very well, sir! very well! very fine! stick to it, stick to it, I adviseyou, and we shall see. And how will you look to-morrow, Mr. Innocent,when my uncle, the doctor, comes home?”
“As I do now, sir,” said Hardy, unmoved.
His composure threw Mr. Power into a rage too great for utterance.“Sir,” continued Hardy, “ever since I have been at school, I never told alie, and therefore, sir, I hope you will believe me now. Upon my wordand honour, sir, I have done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong? Better and better! what, when I caught you going out atnight?”
“_That_, to be sure, was wrong,” said Hardy, recollecting himself; “butexcept that—”
“Except that, sir! I will except nothing. Come along with me, younggentleman, your time for pardon is past.”
Saying these words, he pulled Hardy along a narrow passage to a smallcloset, set apart for desperate offenders, and usually known by the nameof the _Black Hole_. “There, sir, take up your lodging there forto-night,” said he, pushing him in; “to-morrow I’ll know more, or I’llknow why,” added he, double locking the door, with a tremendous noise,upon his prisoner, and locking also the door at the end of the passage,so that no one could have access to him. “So now I think I have yousafe!” said Mr. William Power to himself, stalking off with steps whichmade the whole gallery resound, and which made many a guilty hearttremble.
The conversation which had passed between Hardy and Mr. Power at the headof the stairs had been anxiously listened to; but only a word or two hereand there had been distinctly overheard.
The locking of the black hole door was a terrible sound—some knew notwhat it portended, and others knew _too well_. All assembled in themorning with faces of anxiety. Tarlton and Loveit’s were the mostagitated: Tarlton for himself, Loveit for his friend, for himself, foreverybody. Every one of the party, and Tarlton at their head, surroundedhim with reproaches; and considered him as the author of the evils whichhung over them. “How could you do so? and why did you say anything toHardy about it? when you had promised, too! Oh! what shall we all do?what a scrape you have brought us into, Loveit, it’s all your fault!”
“All my fault!” repeated poor Loveit, with a sigh; “well, that is hard.”
“Goodness! there’s the bell,” exclaimed a number of voices at once. “Nowfor it!” They all stood in a half circle for morning prayers. Theylistened—“Here he is coming! No—Yes—Here he is!” And Mr. William Power,with a gloomy brow, appeared and walked up to his place at the head ofthe room. They knelt down to prayers, and the moment they rose, Mr.William Power, laying his hand upon the table, cried, “Stand still,gentlemen, if you please.” Everybody stood stock still; he walked out ofthe circle; they guessed that he was gone for Hardy, and the whole roomwas in commotion. Each with eagerness asked each what none could answer,“_Has he told_?” “_What_ has he told?” “Who has he told of?” “I hopehe has not told of me,” cried they.
“I’ll answer for it he has told of all of us,”
said Tarlton.
“And I’ll answer for it he has told of none of us,” answered Loveit, witha sigh.
“You don’t think he’s such a fool, when he can get himself off,” saidTarlton.
At this instant the prisoner was led in, and as he passed through thecircle, every eye was fixed upon him. His eye fell upon no one, not evenupon Loveit, who pulled him by the coat as he passed—everyone felt almostafraid to breathe.
“Well, sir,” said Mr. Power, sitting down in Mr. Trueman’s elbow-chair,and placing the prisoner opposite to him; “well, sir, what have you tosay to me this morning?”
“Nothing, sir,” answered Hardy, in a decided, yet modest manner; “nothingbut what I said last night.”
“Nothing more?”
“Nothing more, sir.”
“But I have something more to say to you, sir, then; and a great dealmore, I promise you, before I have done with you;” and then, seizing himin a fury, he was just going to give him a severe flogging, when theschoolroom door opened, and Mr. Trueman appeared, followed by an old manwhom Loveit immediately knew. He leaned upon his stick as he walked, andin his other hand carried a basket of apples. When they came within thecircle, Mr. Trueman stopped short. “Hardy!” exclaimed he, with a voiceof unfeigned surprise, whilst Mr. William Power stood with his handsuspended.—“Ay, Hardy, sir,” repeated he. “I told him you’d not believeyour own eyes.”
Mr. Trueman advanced with a slow step. “Now, sir, give me leave,” saidthe usher, eagerly drawing him aside, and whispering.
“So, sir,” said Mr. T. when the whisper was done, addressing himself toHardy, with a voice and manner which, had he been guilty, must havepierced him to the heart, “I find I have been deceived in you; it is butthree hours ago that I told your uncle I never had a boy in my school inwhom I placed so much confidence; but, after all this show of honour andintegrity, the moment my back is turned, you are the first to set anexample of disobedience of my orders. Why do I talk of disobeying mycommands—you are a thief!”
“I, sir?” exclaimed Hardy, no longer able to repress his feelings.
“You, sir,—you and some others,” said Mr. Trueman, looking round the roomwith a penetrating glance—“you and some others.”
“Ay, sir,” interrupted Mr. William Power, “get that out of him if youcan—ask him.”
“I will ask him nothing; I shall neither put his truth nor his honour tothe trial; truth and honour are not to be expected amongst thieves.”
“I am not a thief! I have never had anything to do with thieves,” criedHardy, indignantly.
“Have you not robbed this old man? Don’t you know the taste of theseapples?” said Mr. Trueman, taking one out of the basket.
“No, sir; I do not. I never touched one of that old man’s apples.”
“Never touched one of them! I suppose this is some vile equivocation;you have done worse, you have had the barbarity, the baseness, to attemptto poison his dog; the poisoned meat was found in your pocket lastnight.”
“The poisoned meat was found in my pocket, sir; but I never intended topoison the dog—I saved his life.”
“Lord bless him!” said the old man.
“Nonsense—cunning!” said Mr. Power. “I hope you won’t let him imposeupon you, sir.”
“No, he cannot impose upon me; I have a proof he is little prepared for,”said Mr. Trueman, producing the blue handkerchief in which the meat hadbeen wrapped.
Tarlton turned pale; Hardy’s countenance never changed.
“Don’t you know this handkerchief, sir?”
“I do, sir.”
“Is it not yours?”
“No, sir.”
“Don’t you know whose it is?” cried Mr. Power. Hardy was silent.
“Now, gentlemen,” said Mr. Trueman, “I am not fond of punishing you; butwhen I do it, you know, it is always in earnest. I will begin with theeldest of you; I will begin with Hardy, and flog you with my own handstill this handkerchief is owned.”
“I’m sure it’s not mine,” and “I’m sure it’s none of mine,” burst fromevery mouth, whilst they looked at each other in dismay; for none butHardy, Loveit and Tarlton knew the secret. “My cane,” said Mr. Trueman,and Mr. Power handed him the cane. Loveit groaned from the bottom of hisheart. Tarlton leaned back against the wall with a black countenance.Hardy looked with a steady eye at the cane.
“But first,” said Mr. Trueman, laying down the cane, “let us see.Perhaps we may find out the owner of this handkerchief another way,”examining the corners. It was torn almost to pieces; but luckily thecorner that was marked remained.
“J. T.!” cried Mr. Trueman. Every eye turned upon the guilty Tarlton,who, now as pale as ashes and trembling in every limb, sank down upon hisknees, and in a whining voice begged for mercy. “Upon my word andhonour, sir, I’ll tell you all; I’d never have thought of stealing theapples if Loveit had not first told me of them; and it was Tom who firstput the poisoning the dog into my head. It was he that carried the meat,_wasn’t it_?” said he, appealing to Hardy, whose word he knew must bebelieved. “Oh, dear sir!” continued he as Mr. Trueman began to movetowards him, “do let me off; pray do let me off this time! I’m not theonly one, indeed, sir! I hope you won’t make me an example for the rest.It’s very hard I’m to be flogged more than they!”
“I’m not going to flog you.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Tarlton, getting up and wiping his eyes.
“You need not thank me,” said Mr. Trueman. “Take your handkerchief—goout of this room—out of this house; let me never see you more.”
“If I had any hopes of him,” said Mr. Trueman, as he shut the door afterhim;—“if I had any hopes of him, I would have punished him;—but I havenone. Punishment is meant only to make people better; and those who haveany hopes of themselves will know how to submit to it.”
At these words Loveit first, and immediately all the rest of the guiltyparty, stepped out of the ranks, confessed their fault, and declaredthemselves ready to bear any punishment their master thought proper.
“Oh, they have been punished enough,” said the old man; “forgive them,sir.”
Hardy looked as if he wished to speak. “Not because you ask it,” saidMr. Trueman to the guilty penitents, “though I should be glad to obligeyou—it wouldn’t be just; but there,” pointing to Hardy, “there is one whohas merited a reward; the highest I can give him is that of pardoning hiscompanions.”
Hardy bowed and his face glowed with pleasure, whilst everybody presentsympathized in his feelings.
“I am sure,” thought Loveit, “this is a lesson I shall never forget.”
“Gentlemen,” said the old man, with a faltering voice, “it wasn’t for thesake of my apples that I spoke; and you, sir,” said he to Hardy, “I thankyou for saving my dog. If you please, I’ll plant on that mount, oppositethe window, a young apple-tree, from my old one. I will water it, andtake care of it with my own hands for your sake, as long as I am able.And may God bless you!” laying his trembling hand on Hardy’s head; “mayGod bless you—I’m sure God _will_ bless all such boys as you are.”