The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's: A School Story

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

  MISSING.

  Slowly Oliver followed Mr Rastle to the Doctor's study with strangeforebodings at heart.

  What the "something that must have happened to Loman" could be, he couldnot conjecture; but the recollection of his unhappy schoolfellow'stroubles and of his difficulties, and--worse still--of his dishonesty(for Oliver had no doubt in his mind that Loman had taken theexamination paper), all came to his mind now with terrifying force.

  Oliver had never been fond of Loman, as the reader knows, but somehowthere are times when one forgets whether one is fond of another personor not, and Oliver felt as if he would give anything now to be sure--

  Here he was at the Doctor's study.

  Dr Senior was standing at the fireplace with a very grave look,holding a letter in his hand.

  "Greenfield," said he, the moment the boy entered, "when did you seeLoman last?"

  "Last night, sir, after preparation."

  "He was not in his class this morning?"

  "No, sir--he sent down word he had a headache."

  "You saw him last night--where?"

  "In my study."

  The Doctor paused uncomfortably, and Mr Rastle put in a question.

  "Are you and Loman great friends?"

  "No, we are not friends."

  "Does he often come to your study?"

  "No, sir. Very rarely."

  "May I ask, Greenfield," said the Doctor, "why he was in your study lastnight?"

  This was getting close quarters for Oliver, who, however, had made uphis mind he must, if put to it, say all he knew.

  "He came to--to ask me about something."

  "Yes, what?"

  "He made me promise not to tell any one."

  "Greenfield," said the Doctor, seriously, "Loman has disappeared fromSaint Dominic's. Why, I cannot say. If you know of anything which willaccount for this proceeding, you owe it to yourself, to me, and to yourschoolfellow, who may yet be recovered, to speak plainly now."

  The Doctor's voice, which had been stern when he began to speak,betrayed his emotion before the sentence was ended, and Oliversurrendered without further demur.

  "He came to borrow some money," he replied.

  "Yes," said the Doctor.

  Oliver had nothing for it but to narrate all he knew of Loman's recentmoney difficulties, of his connection with Cripps, and of his own andWraysford's share in helping him out of his straits.

  The Doctor heard all he had to say, putting in a question here andthere, whenever by the boy's manner there seemed to be anything kept inthe background which wanted some coaxing to bring out.

  "And he wanted to borrow more money yesterday, then?"

  "Yes, sir. He said Cripps had found there was another sovereign owing,and had threatened to expose Loman before you and the whole schoolunless he got it at once. But I fancy that must only have been anexcuse."

  "Yes. And did you lend him the pound?"

  "I hadn't got it to lend," replied Oliver, "the last lot had completelycleared me out."

  "There is one other question I want to ask you, Greenfield," said theDoctor, fidgeting with the paper in his hand. "How long do you supposethis has been going on?"

  "I don't know, sir--but should think for some time."

  "What makes you think so?"

  "Because," replied Oliver--and there was no help for it--"because at thetime I spoke to you about the scrape my young brother got into at thelock, last autumn, Loman was very thick with Cripps."

  "Indeed? That was just before the Nightingale examination, was it not?"

  "Yes, sir," said Oliver, beginning to feel the ground very uncomfortableall round. Here he was telling tales right and left, and no help forit. Surely the Doctor was carrying it a little too far.

  "Do you suppose Loman was in debt at that time?"

  "I have no idea," replied the boy, wondering whatever that had to dowith Loman's disappearance now.

  "You wonder why I ask this question," said the Doctor, apparentlyreading the boy's thoughts. "This letter will explain. I will read itto you, as you may be able to throw some light on it. I received itjust now. It is from Cripps."

  "Hon. Sir,--I take the liberty of informing you that one of your younggents, which his name is Mister Loman, is a prig. He's been a regulardown at my shop this twelve month, and never paid a farthing for hisliquor. More than that, he's been a-drawing money from me up tothirty-five pounds, which I've got his promissory note due lastMicklemas. He said he was a-going to get a Nightingale or somethingthen that would pay it all off, and I was flat enough to believe him.If that ain't enough, he's a-been and played me nicely over a rod I soldhim. I might have persecuted him over that job but I didn't. Hecracked it to rights, and then tries to pass it back on me for same aswhen he got it, and if I hadn't a-been a bit sharper nor some folk Ishould have been clean done. This is to tell you I ain't a-going tostand it no longer, and if I don't get my money there'll be a rumpus upat the school which won't be pleasant for none of you. So the shortestcut is to send on the money sharp to your humble servant, Ben Cripps.

  "P.S.--I've wrote and told the young swell I've put you on the job."

  "It is evident," said Mr Rastle, "this letter has something to do withLoman's disappearance."

  "Yes," said Oliver, "he was awfully frightened of you or his fathergetting to know about it all, sir."

  "Foolish boy!" said the Doctor, with a half groan.

  What little could be done at that late hour was done. Strict inquirieswere made on all hands as to when and where the missing boy was lastseen, and it was ascertained that he must have left Saint Dominic's thatmorning during early class time, when every one supposed him ill in bedwith a headache.

  But where had he gone, and with what object? A telegram was sent to hisfather, and the reply came back that the boy had not gone home, and thatMr Loman was on his way to Saint Dominic's. At the Maltby railwaystation no one had seen or heard anything of him.

  Meanwhile, Mr Rastle had gone down to the Cockchafer to see Cripps.The landlord was not at home, but, said the potboy, was most likely "upalong with the old 'un at the lock-'us." From which Mr Rastle gatheredthere was a chance of seeing Mr Cripps junior at the residence of MrCripps senior, at Gusset Lock-house, and thither he accordingly went.Mr Cripps junior was there, sweetly smoking, and particularly amiable.

  In answer to Mr Rastle's inquiries, he made no secret of his beliefthat the boy had run away for fear of exposure.

  "You see, Mister," said he, "I don't like a-getting young folk intotrouble, but when it comes to robbing a man downright, why, I considersit my dooty to give your governor the tip and let him know."

  Mr Rastle had no opinion to offer on this question of morals. What hewanted to know was whether Cripps had seen the boy that day, or had theslightest idea what had become of him.

  Mr Cripps laughed at the idea.

  "Not likely," he said, "he'd tell me where he was a-goin' to, when he'dgot thirty-five-pound of mine in his pocket, the young thief. All I cansay is, he'd better not show up again in a hurry till that little bill'ssquared up." And here Mr Cripps relapsed into quite a state ofrighteous indignation.

  "Wait till he do come back, I says," he repeated. "I'll be on him,mister, no error. I'll let the folks know the kind of young gents youturn out up at your school, so I will."

  Mr Rastle took no notice of all this. He admitted to himself that thisman had some reason for being disagreeable, if Loman had reallyabsconded with such a debt as he represented.

  "Thirty-five pounds," continued Cripps, becoming quite sentimental overhis wrongs, "and if you won't believe me, look at this. This here bitof paper's all I've got in return for my money--all I've got!"

  And so saying he took from his pocket and exhibited to Mr Rastle thevery promissory note, signed by Loman, which he had pretended to tear upand burn the last time that unhappy boy was at the Cockchafer.

  Had Mr Rastle known as much as the reader kn
ows he would not havewasted more time over Mr Cripps. He would have seen that, whatever hadhappened to the boy, Mr Cripps's purpose was to make money by it. Buthe did not know all, and looked at the bill with mingled astonishmentand sorrow as an important piece of evidence.

  "He really owed you this?" he asked.

  "He did so--every brass farthing, which I've waited ever sinceMichaelmas for it, mister. But I ain't a-going to wait no longer. Imust have my money slap down, I let you know, or somebody shall hear ofit."

  "But he has paid you something?" said Mr Rastle, remembering Oliver'saccount of the loan of eight pounds.

  "Has he?" exclaimed Cripps, satirically. "Oh, that's all right, only Iain't seen it, that's all."

  "Do you mean he hasn't paid you anything?" demanded Mr Rastle, becomingimpatient with his jocular manner.

  "Of course, as you says so, it ain't for me to say the contrairy; but ifyou hadn't told me, I should have said he ain't paid me one brassfarthing, so now."

  "Dear me, dear me!" exclaimed Mr Rastle. Of course, if that was so,Loman must have borrowed the eight pounds from Oliver on falsepretences, and kept it for his own use.

  "I tell you what," broke in Mr Cripps, in the midst of this meditation,"I don't want to do nothing unpleasant to you, or the governor, oranybody. What I say is, you'd better see this little bill put squareamong you, and then the thing can be kept quiet, do you see? It wouldbe awkward for you to have a regular shindy about it, my man, but that'swhat it'll come to if I don't get my money."

  This declaration Mr Cripps delivered in a solemn voice which was hisnearest approach to earnestness. But he was mistaken in expecting MrRastle to be much affected or overawed by it. On the contrary, it gavethat gentleman a new insight into his acquaintance's character, whichdecided him that a prolongation of this interview would neither bepleasant nor profitable.

  So Mr Rastle abruptly turned and went, much to the regret of Cripps,who had not half spoken his mind yet.

  Returning to the school, the master reported all he had to say, whichwas not much. There an anxious night was spent by the masters and theone or two boys who were in their confidence in the matter.

  The half hope that Loman might return of his own accord before night wasquickly dispelled. Bed-time came, and no signs of him. Later hisfather arrived, anxious and excited, and was closeted for some time withthe Doctor.

  Meanwhile everything that could be done at that time of night was done.The Maltby newspapers were communicated with, and the police.Unpleasant as it was, the masters decided the right thing to do was tomake the matter known at once, and not damage the chance of the boy'sdiscovery by any attempt to keep his disappearance quiet.

  At dawn next day an organised search was begun, and inquiries werestarted in every direction. Mr Cripps, among others, once morereceived the honour of a visit, this time from Mr Loman himself, who,greatly to the astonishment of the worthy landlord, called for his son'spromissory note, which, being produced, he paid without a word. Crippswas fairly taken aback by this unexpected piece of business, and even atrifle disconcerted. It never suited him to be quite square withanybody, and now that Mr Loman had paid every farthing that could beclaimed against his son, he did not like the look of Mr Loman at all,and he liked it less before the interview ended. For Mr Loman (who, bythe way, was a barrister by profession) put his man that morning througha cross-examination which it wanted all his wits to get over creditably.As it was, he was once or twice driven completely into a corner, andhad to acknowledge, for the sake of telling one lie, that the lasttwenty statements he had made had been lies too. Still Mr Loman keptat him. Now he wanted to know exactly how often his son had visited theCockchafer? When he was there last? When the time before that? Whathe had done during his visits? Had he played cards? With whom? WithCripps? Had he lost? Had Cripps won? Had Cripps gone on letting himrun up a score and lose money, even though he got no payment? Why hadCripps done so? Where had he expected to get payment from in the end?

  Altogether it was hot quarters for Cripps that morning, and once ortwice he struck completely, and putting himself on his dignity, declared"he wasn't a-going to be questioned and brow-beated as if he was acommon pickpocket!" which objection Mr Loman quietly silenced by saying"Very well," and turning to go, a movement which so terrified the worthypublican that he caved in at once, and submitted to further questions.

  Mr Loman then followed up his advantage by finding out all he couldabout the companions whom his son had been in the habit of meeting onthe occasion of his visits to the Cockchafer. What were their names,occupations, addresses, and so on? Cripps, if any one had told himtwenty-four hours ago that he would be meekly divulging all thisinformation to any one in his own house, would have scoffed at the idea.But there was something about Mr Loman's voice, and Mr Loman's eye,and Mr Loman's note-book, which was too much for the publican, and hesubmitted like a lamb.

  In due time the ordeal was over, and Mr Loman said he would now go andcall upon these young gentlemen, and see what they had to say, and thatMr Cripps would most likely hear from him again.

  Altogether the landlord of the Cockchafer had hardly ever passed such anuncomfortable morning.

  Meanwhile the other searchers, among whom were Oliver and Wraysford,were busy.

  For a whole day there came no news of the missing boy. No one could bemet who had seen him or heard of him. Neither in Maltby nor up theriver, nor in the country roads round, could any tidings of him befound. Towards evening those who remained anxiously behind began toentertain fresh fears. Had the boy been merely running away, some onewould surely have seen him or heard of him. Had anything worse happenedto him?

  Mr Loman and the police-inspector paid a hurried visit to theboathouse. Had the boy been there? No, no one had been there for twodays. They followed the paths through the woods, asking at everycottage and stopping every passer-by. But no, no one knew anything. Noboat had passed through the lock, no passenger on foot had gone past it.

  The night came, and with it most of the searchers returned, dejected andworn-out.

  The school was strangely silent. Not a sound could be heard in thepassages or class-rooms. Nothing but the heavy rain, which now began tofall dismally upon the roof and windows of the old school-house.

  Boys who heard it shuddered, and their minds went out into the dark wetnight after their lost schoolfellow, wherever he might be.

  Where was he now? they wondered, and how was he faring?

  "Has Greenfield returned?" asked the Doctor, as about ten o'clock themasters and Mr Loman met for the mockery of supper in the head master'sstudy.

  "No," said Mr Jellicott. "I have just been inquiring. He has notreturned."

  "Strange," said the Doctor; "which direction did he take?"

  "Up towards Grandham," said Wraysford; "we went together as far as thecross roads, and then I went off on the Dallingford road and back by theriver."

  "He ought to be back now," said the Doctor, looking concerned.

  "There is no railway or coach from Grandham," suggested Mr Rastle; "hewould have to walk back most likely."

  "And in this rain!" said the Doctor.

  "Perhaps," said Wraysford, "he may have heard something."

  It was a cheery suggestion. If it could but be true!

  "He would have telegraphed," said Mr Loman.

  "There is no telegraph office there," said the Doctor; "the Grandhampeople have to come here or to Dallingford to telegraph."

  They waited an hour, but Oliver did not return.

  The night became more and more stormy. The bleak February wind whistledamong the chimneys, and the hard rain beat pitilessly at the windows andon the gravel walk outside.

  The Doctor rose and pulled up the blind and looked out. It was a drearyprospect. The rain had turned to sleet, and the wind was growing fastto a gale. The trees round the house creaked and groaned beneath it.

  "It is a dreadful night," said the Doctor. "Those two poor boys!"
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  No one else said anything. The storm grew fiercer and fiercer. Boys intheir dormitories sit up in bed and listened to the roar of the wind asit howled round the house. And that silent party in the Doctor's studynever once thought of seeking rest. Midnight came; but no Oliver, noLoman--and the storm as furious as ever.

  Presently there came a soft knock at the door, which made every onestart suddenly as the door opened.

  It was Stephen in his night-shirt. He, like every one else, had beenawakened by the storm. Oliver was the monitor of his dormitory; and nowfor the first time the boy missed his elder brother. Where was Oliver?he asked. No one could say. He had been out all day, and no one hadseen him since he got back.

  This was enough for Stephen. With bounding heart and quivering lips hesprang from his bed and hurried down stairs. There was a light in theDoctor's study; and there he went.

  The boy's alarm and terror on hearing that his brother had not returnedwas piteous to see. He begged to be allowed to go and look for him, andonly the Doctor's authoritative command could put him from this purpose.But nothing would induce him to return to bed; so Wraysford fetched himan ulster to keep out the cold.

  The night wore on, by inches; and the storm raged outside with unabatedwildness.

  More than once the impulse had seized Wraysford to sally out at allrisks and look for his friend. But what _could_ one do in a night likethis, with a blinding sleet full in one's face, and a wind which mockedall attempts at progress or shouting!

  No, there was nothing for it but to sit patiently and await daylight.

  One, two, three o'clock came, and still nothing but the storm. Stephencrouched closer up beside Wraysford, and the elder boy, as he put hisarm round the younger, could feel how his chest heaved, and how histeeth chattered.

  "You're cold, old boy," said he, kindly.

  "No, I'm not, Wray," said the boy, with a gulp; "but don't talk, Wray,I--"

  The next instant Stephen, with a sudden cry, had bounded to his feet andrushed to the window.

  "Some one called!" he cried.