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Quicksilver; The Boy With No Skid To His Wheel, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 20. An Explanation |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY. AN EXPLANATION For a few moments Dexter's idea was to go to the great gates, ring the porter's bell, and take sanctuary there, for he felt that he had disgraced himself utterly beyond retrieving his character. Certainly, he never dared go back to the doctor's. He felt for a moment that he had some excuse, for Edgar Danby had brought his punishment upon himself; but no one would believe that, and there was no hope for the offender but to give up everything, and go back to his former life. But, as the boy reached the gloomy-looking workhouse entrance, and saw the painted bell-pull, through whose coating the rust was eating its way, he shivered. For there rose up before him the stern faces of Mr Hippetts and Mr Sibery, with the jeering crowd of schoolfellows, who could laugh at and gibe him for his downfall, and be sure to call him Gentleman Coleby, as long as they were together, the name, under the circumstances, being sure to stick. No, he could not face them there, and beside, though it had never seemed so before, the aspect of the great building was so forbidding that he shrank away, and walked onward toward the outskirts of the town, and on, and on, till he found himself by the river. Such a sensation of misery and despair came over him, that he began walking along by the bank, seeing nothing of the glancing fish and bright insects which danced above the water. He had room for nothing but the despondent thoughts of what he should do now. "What would the doctor think of him? What would Helen say?" He had been asked out to spend the day at a gentleman's house, and he had disgraced himself, and-- "Hullo!" Dexter looked up sharply, and found that he had almost run against his old fishing friend of the opposite side of the river. "Hullo!" stammered Dexter in reply. "Got dry again?" said the boy, who was standing just back from the water's edge, fishing, with his basket at his side, and a box of baits on the grass. "Got dry?" said Dexter wonderingly. "Yes! My!" cried the boy, grinning, "you did have a ducking. I ran away. Best thing I could do." "Yes," said Dexter quietly; "you ran away." "Why, what yer been a-doing of? Your face is scratched, and your hands too. I know: you've been climbing trees. You'll ketch it, spoiling your clothes. That's got him." He struck and landed a small fish, which he took from the hook and dropped into his basket, where there were two more. "They don't bite to-day. Caught any down your garden!" "No," said Dexter, to whom the company of the boy was very cheering just then. "I haven't tried since." "You are a fellow! Why, if I had a chance like you have, I should be always at it." "I say, what did you say your name was?" "Bob Dimsted--Bob," said the fisher, throwing in again. "I know what yours is. You come out of the workus." "Yes," said Dexter sadly, as he wondered whether he did not wish he was there now. "I came out of the workus--workhouse," he added, as he remembered one of Helen's teachings. "Why don't you get your rod some day, and a basket of something to eat, and come right up the river with me, fishing? There's whackers up there." "I should like to," said Dexter thoughtfully, for the idea of the fishing seemed to drive away the troubles from which he suffered. "Well, come then. I'd go any day, only you must let me have all you caught." "All?" said Dexter, as he began to think of trophies. "Yes. As I showed you the place where they're caught, I should want to take them home." "All right," said Dexter. "You could have them." "Ah, it's all very well," said the boy, "but there wouldn't be many that you caught, mate. Ah! No, he's off again. Keep a little furder back." Dexter obeyed, and sat down on the grass, feeling in a half-despairing mood, but as if the company of this rough boy was very pleasant after what he had gone through, and that boys like this were more agreeable to talk to than young tyrants of the class of Edgar Danby. "Fish don't half bite to-day," said Bob Dimsted. "I wish you'd got a rod here, I could lend you a line--single hair." "But I haven't got a rod." "Well, run home and fetch it," said Bob. "Run home and fetch it?" How could he run home and fetch it? How could he ever go back to the doctor's again? "No," he said at last, as he shook his head. "I can't go and fetch it." "Then you can't fish," said the boy, "and 'tain't much use. It's no fun unless they bite, and some days it don't matter how you try, they won't." "Won't they?" said Dexter, and then he started to his feet, for a familiar voice had spoken close to his ear-- "Why, Dexter!" The voice was as full of astonishment as the pleasant face which looked in his. "I thought you were at Sir James Danby's! Is Edgar out here, in the meadows!" "No--no," faltered Dexter; and Bob Dimsted began to gather up his tackle, so as to make a strategic movement, there being evidently trouble in the rear. "But what does this mean?" said Helen firmly. "Who is that boy?" "Bob--Bob Dimsted." "And do you know him?" "He--he was fishing opposite our--your--garden the day I fell into the river," faltered Dexter; and he looked longingly at Bob, who was quickly moving away, and wished that those eyes did not hold him so firmly, and keep him from doing the same. "Was he at your school?" "No," faltered Dexter. "Then I am sure papa would not like you to be making acquaintance with boy's like that. But come, Dexter. What is the meaning of all this? I left you at Sir James Danby's." "Yes," said Dexter, shuffling from foot to foot. "Then why are you not there now--playing with Edgar?" Dexter did not answer, but seemed to be admiring the prospect. "Why, Dexter, your face is all scratched!" Dexter looked up at her, with the scratched face scarlet. "How is that!" continued Helen sternly. "Fighting," said Dexter grimly. "Fighting? Oh, shame! And with that rough boy!" "No!" cried Dexter quickly. "He didn't knock me about." "Then who did!" "That young Danby." Dexter's lips were well opened now, and he went on talking rapidly. "I never did anything to him, but he went on for an hour walking all round the garden, and wouldn't speak; and when I was tired and sat down, he got a stick and knocked me about, and poked me with the point. I stood it as long as I could, and then, when he got worse and worse, I pitched into him, and I'm sure you would have done the same." Helen did not look as if she would have done the same, but stood gazing at the young monkey before her, wondering whether he was deserving of her sympathy, or had really misbehaved himself, and was trying to palliate his conduct. "There, Dexter," she said at last. "I really do not know what to do with you. You had better come on and see papa at once." She took a step toward the town, and then waited, but Dexter stood firm, and cast a glance toward the country. "Dexter, did you hear what I said!" The boy looked at her uneasily, and then nodded sullenly. "Come home with me, then, at once," said Helen quickly. "It's no use for me to come home along of you," said Dexter surlily. "He'll hit me, and I don't want to go." Helen hesitated for a few moments, and then laid her hand upon the boy's shoulder. "I wish you to come, Dexter." He shook his head. "Come," she cried, "if you have been in fault confess it frankly." "But I haven't," cried the boy angrily. "I couldn't help fighting when he knocked me about as he did. He bit me too. Look there!" He hastily drew up his sleeve, and displayed a ruddy circle on his white skin, which bore pretty strong witness to the truth of his words. "Then, if you were not to blame, why should you shrink from coming to papa?" "'Cause he mightn't believe me. Mr Sibery never would, neither," muttered Dexter. "Tell the truth and papa will be sure to believe you," cried Helen indignantly. "Think he would!" said Dexter. "I am sure of it, sir." "All right then," cried the boy quickly. "I'll come. Oh, I say!" "What is the matter?" "Look! Here he comes!" He pointed quickly in the direction of the town, and, wresting himself from Helen's grasp, set off at a sharp run. But he had not gone a dozen yards before he turned and saw Helen gazing after him. He stopped directly, and came slowly and reluctantly back. "Did you call me!" he said sheepishly. "No, Dexter; I think it must have been your conscience spoke and upbraided you for being such a coward." "Yes, it was cowardly, wasn't it?" cried the boy. "I didn't mean to run away, but somehow I did. I say, will he hit me!" "No, Dexter." "Will he be very cross with me?" "I am afraid he will, Dexter; but you must submit bravely, and speak the simple truth." "Yes, I'm going to," said Dexter, with a sigh; and he glanced behind him at the pleasant stretch of meadows, and far away down among the alders and willows, with Bob Dimsted fishing, and evidently quite free from the care which troubled him. The doctor strode up, looking very angry. "So you are there, are you, sir?" he cried austerely. "Do you know of this disgraceful business!" "Dexter has been telling me," said Helen gravely. "Humph!" grunted the doctor. "I knew you had come down here, so I thought I would come and tell you of the terrible state of affairs." "Terrible, papa!" "Ah! then you don't know. It was not likely he would tell you. Sir James came straight to me, and told me everything. It seems that the two boys were sent down the garden together to play, and that as soon as they were alone, Dexter here began to annoy and tease Edgar." "Here, just say that again, will you?" cried Dexter sharply. "I repeat that Dexter here began to annoy and tease Edgar." "Oh!" ejaculated Dexter. "And at last, after the poor boy had tried everything to keep his companion from the line of conduct he had pursued, he resolved to go down and sit by the river, leaving Dexter to amuse himself. But unfortunately the spirit of mischief was so strong in him that this boy took out a dahlia-stick with a sharp point--Sir James showed it to me-- and then, after stabbing at him for some time, began to use his fists, and beat Edgar in the most cruel way." "Oh, my!" ejaculated Dexter; and then, giving his right foot a stamp, "Well, of all the--Oh, my! what a whopper!" The low slangy expression was brought out with such an air of indignant protest that Helen was unable to keep her countenance, and she looked away, while the doctor, who was quite as much impressed, frowned more severely to hide the mirth aroused by the boy's ejaculations, and turned to him sharply-- "What do you mean by that, sir!" he cried. "Mean?" cried Dexter indignantly, and without a shade of fear in his frank bold eyes; "why there isn't a bit of it true. He didn't like me because I came from over yonder, and he wouldn't speak to me. Then he kept on hitting me, and I wouldn't hit him back, because I thought it would make her cross; but, last of all, he hurt me so that I forgot all about everything, and then we did fight, and I whipped--and that's all." "Oh, that's all, is it, sir!" said the doctor, who was angry and yet amused. "Yes, that's all," said Dexter; "only I've got a bite on my arm, and one on my neck, and one on my shoulder. They didn't bleed, though, only pinched and hurt. I only hit him one good un, and that was on the nose, and it made it bleed." "Humph!" ejaculated the doctor. "Now, look here, Dexter, is every word of that true!" "Yes, sir, every bit," cried the boy eagerly. "You will see if it ain't." The doctor's face wrinkled a little more, as to conceal a smile he turned to his daughter-- "Now," he said, "do you think this is true?" "I feel sure it is," said Helen. "I am convinced that Dexter would not tell either of us a falsehood." "There!" cried the boy, smiling triumphantly, as he crept to Helen's side and laid his hand in hers. "Hear that? Of course I wouldn't. I wanted to be all right, but--I say, does my head bleed there?" He took off his cap, and held down his head, while Helen looked at the spot he pointed out, and shuddered slightly. "That's where he stuck his nails into my head, just like a cat. It did hurt ever so, but I soon forgot it." "Let's go home," said the doctor gravely. "It is unfortunate, but of course Dexter could not submit to be trampled upon by any boy." "I say, you do believe me, don't you!" said Dexter quickly. "Yes, my boy. I believe you on your honour." "On my honour," said Dexter quickly. "That will do," said the doctor. "It is unfortunate, but unavoidable. Let us go home to lunch." "And you will not send me back to the--you know!" "Certainly not," said the doctor. "And may I come out here to fish by and by!" "Certainly," said the doctor. "If you are a good boy." "No, I think not," said Helen, making a shadow cross the boy's countenance. "Dexter cannot come out fishing alone; I will come with him." Dexter gave her a meaning look, as he understood why she had said that; and then walked quietly home with the doctor and his daughter to a far more agreeable meal than he would have enjoyed at the baronet's house. _ |
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