"Nothing." Warde clenched his hands, and burst into speech, letting all that he had suffered and suppressed escape in tumultuous words and gestures. "Nothing. You dare to stand there and say--nothing. That you should have done this thing! Why, it's incredible! And I who trusted you. And you listened to me with a face like bra.s.s, laughing in your sleeve, no doubt, at the fool who betrayed himself. And you came here, so my wife tells me, to see if I was out of the way, if the coast was clear. And you were cool as a cuc.u.mber. Oh, you hypocrite, you d.a.m.nable hypocrite! I have to see you now, but never again will I look willingly upon your face, never! Well, this wretched business must be ended. You got out of my house last night. You heard I was dining with the Head Master. I returned early, and I saw you jump from the pa.s.sage window.

You don't deny that you went up to London, I suppose?"

"No, sir; I don't deny it."

At the moment John, quite unconsciously, looked as if he were glorying in what he had done. Warde could have struck his clean, clear face, unblushingly meeting his furious glance. In disgust, he turned his back and walked to the window. John felt rather than saw that his tutor was profoundly moved. When he turned, two tears were trickling down his cheeks. The sight of them nearly undid John. When Warde spoke again, his voice was choked by his emotion.

"Verney," he said, "I spoke just now in an unrestrained manner, because you--you"--his voice trembled--"have shaken my faith in all I hold most dear. I say to you--I say to you that I believed in you as I believe in my wife. Even now I feel that somehow there is a mistake--that you are not what you confess yourself to be--a brazen-faced humbug. You have worked as I have worked for this House, and in one moment you undo that work. Have you paused to think, what effect this will have upon the others?"

"Not yet, sir."

John looked respectfully sympathetic. Poor Warde! This was rough indeed upon him.

Suddenly the door was flung open, and Desmond burst into the room, with a complete disregard of the customary proprieties, and rushed up to Warde.

"Sir," he said vehemently, "Verney did this to save--_me_!"

Warde saw the slow smile break upon John's face. And, seeing it, he came as near hysterical laughter as a man of his character and temperament can come. He perceived that John, for some amazing reason, had played the scape-goat; that, in fact, he was innocent--not a humbug, not a hypocrite, not a brazen-faced sinner. And the relief was so stupendous that the tutor flung himself back into a chair, gasping. Desmond spoke quietly.

"I was going to town, sir. For the first time, I swear. And only to win a bet, and for the excitement of jumping out of a window. John tried to dissuade me. When he exhausted every argument, he went himself."

"The Lord be praised!" said Warde. He had divined everything; but he let Desmond tell the story in detail. Scaife's name was left out of the narrative.

Then Warde said slowly, "I shall not refer this business to the Head Master; I shall deal with it myself. For your own sake, Desmond, for the sake of your father, and, above all else, for the sake of this House, I shall do no more than ask you to promise that, for the rest of your time at Harrow, you will endeavour to atone for what has been."

All boys worth their salt are creatures of reserves; let us respect them. It is easy to surmise what pa.s.sed between the friends--the grat.i.tude, the self-reproach, the humiliation on one side; the sympathy, the encouragement and shy, restrained affection on the other. A bitter-sweet moment for John this, revealing, without disguise, the weakness of Desmond's character, but illuminating the triumph over Scaife, the all-powerful. John had been inhuman if this knowledge had not been as spikenard to him.

Chapel over, the boys came pouring back into the house. In a minute the f.a.gs would be hurrying up with the tea and the jam-pots, asking for orders; in a minute Scaife would rush in with questions hot upon his lips. John chuckled to himself as he heard Scaife's step.

"Hullo, Caesar! Why did you cut Chapel? And----"

John saw that the Carlton supper-card was in his hand. He chuckled again.

"Dumber has just given me--_this_. Did you go, after all?" he asked Caesar. They had not met since Warde's visit of the night before.

"I didn't go," said Caesar.

"Dumber gave it to me, with Verney's compliments."

"You've lost your bet," said John.

"But how?"

"Jonathan went to town instead of me," said Desmond. "We thought he was with Warde--he wasn't. This morning, early, I found out that he hadn't slept in his bed. I saw him come back, and I saw Dumber waiting for him.

When Dumber came out of Warde's room, he told me that Jonathan had been up to town, and was going to be--sacked."

He blurted out the rest of the story, to which Scaife listened attentively. When Desmond finished, there was a pause.

"You're devilish clever," said Scaife to John.

"I shall pay up the pony," said Desmond.

"No, you won't," said Scaife. "As for the money, I never cared a hang about that. I'm glad--and you ought to know it--that you've won the bet.

All the same, Verney isn't ent.i.tled to all the glory that you give him."

"He is, he is--and more, too."

Scaife laughed. John felt rather uncomfortable. Always Scaife exhibited his amazing resource at unexpected moments.

"Never mind," Scaife continued, "I won't burst the pretty bubble. And I admit, remember, Verney's cleverness."

He was turning to go, but Desmond clutched his sleeve. When he spoke his fair face was scarlet.

"You sneer at the wrong man and at the wrong time," he said angrily, "and you talk as though I was a fool. Well, I am a fool, perhaps, and I blow bubbles. p.r.i.c.k this one, if you can. I challenge you to do it."

Scaife shrugged his shoulders. "It's so obvious," he said coolly, "that your kind friend ran no risks other than a sprained ankle or a cold."

"What do you mean?"

"He was certain that you would come forward. He forced your hand. There was never the smallest chance of his being sacked, and he knew it."

"Yes," said John, calmly, "I knew it."

"Just so," said Scaife. He went out whistling.

Desmond had time to whisper to John before the f.a.gs called them to breakfast in John's room--

"I say, Jonathan, I'm glad you knew that I wouldn't fail you. As the Demon says, you are clever; you are a sight cleverer than he is."

John shook his head. "I'm slow," he said. "As a matter of fact, the thought that you would come to the rescue never occurred to me till I was biking back from town."

"Anyway, you saved me from being sacked, and as long as I live I----"

"Come on to breakfast," said John.

FOOTNOTES:

[38] The Philathletic Club deals primarily with all matters which concern Harrow games; it is also a social club. Distinguished athletes, monitors, and so forth, are eligible for membership. The Head of the School is _ex-Officio_ President.

CHAPTER XIV

_Good Night_

"Good night! Sleep, and so may ever Lights half seen across a murky lea, Child of hope, and courage, and endeavour, Gleam a voiceless benison on thee!