“Did he tell you of it?” asked the doctor.
“No, I found it out accidentally. When I spoke to him about it he admitted it and seemed very sorry.”
“And why did he not come to me himself at once?”
“That’s just it, sir,” said the captain. “I advised him to do it, and he told me he had promised the — the companions with whom he went never to mention the matter to anybody, and this prevented his coming. He even went to them, and begged them to let him off the promise so that he might come and confess to you, but he did not succeed.”
“Did he ask you, then, to come and tell me?”
“No, sir. But he is in constant dread of your hearing about it from any one else, so that I thought it would be the best thing to tell you of it myself.”
The doctor nodded his head.
“He does not know, of course, of your doing this?”
“Oh no, sir.”
“And who were the companions who you say took him to this place?”
Riddell coloured up and felt very uncomfortable.
“Do you mind me not telling you, sir?” he said. “Wyndham only wanted you to know about his part in it. I’ll tell you if you wish,” added he, “but I’d rather not if you do not mind.”
“You need not do so at present,” said the doctor, greatly to the captain’s relief, “but you had better send Wyndham to me.”
“Yes, sir,” said Riddell, turning to go, but lingering for one final word. “I hope, sir — you — that is, if you can — you will take a lenient view of it. Young Wyndham’s very steady now.”
“I must see Wyndham before I can decide,” said the doctor, “but you have acted rightly in the matter — quite rightly.”
The captain went to find Wyndham, hoping for the best, but decidedly anxious.
That young gentleman was engaged in the agonies of Euclid when the school messenger entered, and announced that the doctor wanted to see him at once. His face fell, and his heart beat fast as he heard the summons. It needed not much effort to guess what it all meant. Gilks and Silk had of course been up before the doctor, and the latter had carried out the threat of which Riddell had told him; and now he was summoned to hear his fate!
At the schoolhouse door he found Riddell waiting for him.
“Oh, Riddell, I say!” exclaimed he, in tones of misery, “I’ve to go to the doctor at once. Silk has told about me. I say, do come with me.”
“Silk hasn’t told about you at all,” said the captain; “I’ve reported you myself.”
“You!” cried Wyndham, in tones of mingled amazement and reproach; “oh, why?”
“Wouldn’t you sooner have had me do it than Silk?” asked Riddell.
The boy saw his meaning at once, and as usual flew from one extreme to the other.
“Oh, of course! What a brute I was not to see it. Thanks awfully, old man. What awful grief I should have come to if it hadn’t been for you!”
“I don’t know at all what view the doctor takes of the matter,” said the captain, gravely; “you had better not expect too much.”
Wyndham groaned.
“If only I’m not expelled!” said he. “I suppose you can’t come too?”
“No. The doctor wants to see you alone, I think.”
“Well, here goes. By the way, of course, you didn’t mention the other fellows’ names?” he added.
The manner in which he said this made Riddell feel doubly glad that the doctor had not insisted on his telling.
“No — I didn’t,” he said.
And off went Wyndham, dismally, to the doctor’s study.
It was an anxious morning for the captain. Wyndham had not returned before first school was over, and Riddell felt he could not rest till he knew his fate.
He told Bloomfield of his morning’s proceedings, but even this new friend’s encouragement failed to shake off the suspense that weighed upon him.
Presently when he could wait patiently no longer, it occurred to him Wyndham might possibly have gone back to his study unobserved, and be waiting there for him. So he went across to the schoolhouse to find out.
But nearly all the studies in the schoolhouse, Wyndham’s included, were empty, as they almost always were at this hour of the day during summer; and the captain was about to return, more uncomfortable than ever, to the Big, when a door at the end of the passage opened, and some one called his name.
It was Gilks, who, as he was dressed, had evidently recovered from his indisposition earlier than was expected.
He beckoned as the captain looked round; and Riddell, inwardly wondering when his work as a police-officer would cease, and he would be able to retire again into private life, turned and entered his study.
Gilks shut the door carefully behind him. He had a haggard look about him which may have been the result of his ailment, or may have been caused by mental trouble, but which certainly was not the expression to which the captain had been used.
“I’m to go to the doctor at four?” he asked.
“Yes. He put it off, as you were reported on the sick-list.”
“Of course he thinks I was shamming?”
“I don’t know.”
“I was — and I wasn’t. I couldn’t make out what to do, that was it, so I stayed in bed. Was Silk there?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say anything?”
“No; the doctor told him to come again at four.”
Gilks took one or two uncomfortable turns up and down the room, and then said, “I may as well tell you, it’s no use keeping it back any longer, for it’s sure to come out. I was the fellow who cut the rudder-line. Did you know that?”
“I had heard it.”
“Who told you — Silk?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. I knew he would. And he’ll tell Paddy this afternoon. I don’t care if he does.”
“I scarcely believed it when he said so,” said Riddell.
“Eh? I suppose you thought it was rather too low even for me. So it would have been once,” he said, bitterly.
“But you backed the Parrett’s boat all along,” said Riddell. “Oh, that. If that’s all that puzzled you it’s easily explained. Perhaps if you were doing a thing like that in the dark, expecting to be caught out every moment, you might make a mistake too.”
“Then you meant to cut our lines?” asked the captain, seeing the whole mystery explained at last.
“Of course I did; and so I should have done if the rudders hadn’t been shifted, and Parrett’s put into the schoolhouse boat.” He took a few more turns, and then continued, “You may fancy what a pleasant state of mind I’ve been in since. I daresay you’ll be glad to hear I’ve been miserable day and night.”
“I’m very sorry for you,” said Riddell, so sympathetically that the unhappy boy started.
“You wouldn’t be if you knew it was all to spite you. I was as bad as Silk in that, though it was his idea about cutting the lines. The accident turned out well for us in one way — nobody suspected either of us. But Silk has led me the life of a dog ever since. I’ve not known what minute it might all come out. He was always holding it over my head, and I had to do anything he told me. I can tell you I’ve thought of bolting more than once, or telling Paddy.”
“It must have been a dreadful time for you,” said Riddell. “So it was. But I’m glad it’s all over now. I shall be glad to be expelled. I’ve been ashamed to look any one in the face for weeks. I used to be happy enough before I knew Silk, but I don’t expect ever to be happy again now.”
There was a tremble in his voice as he said this, which went to the captain’s heart.
“I hope it’s not so bad as that,” said he, quietly. “Everybody here hates me, and they’ll hate me all the more now,” said Gilks. “You and young Wyndham are the only fellows that have been good to me, and I’ve done both of you nothing but mischief.”
“I think,” said Riddell, “the fellows will soon forgive. They would, I know, if they guessed how you have suffered already.”
“You are right. I have suffered,” said Gilks. Another long pause followed, during which the minds of both were full.