Chapter 36
However there were those in Kenminster who never failed to know all about everything, and the first afternoon after Armine's disaster that Caroline came to Kencroft she was received with such sympathetic kindness that her prophetic soul misgave her, and she dreaded hearing either that she was letting herself be cheated by some tradesman, or that she was to lose her pupils.
No. After inquiries for Armine, his aunt said she was very sorry, but now he was better she thought his mother ought to know the truth.
"What--?" asked Caroline, startled; and Jessie, the only other person in the room, put down her work, and listened with a strange air of determination.
"My dear, I am afraid it is very painful."
"Tell me at once, Ellen."
"I can't think how he learnt it. But they have been about with all sorts of odd people."
"Who? What, Ellen? Are you accusing my boy?" said Caroline, her limbs beginning to tremble and her eyes to flash, though she spoke as quietly as she could.
"Now do compose yourself, my dear. I dare say the poor little fellow knew no better, and he has had a severe lesson."
"If you would only tell me, Ellen."
"It seems," said Ellen, with much regret and commiseration, "that all this was from poor little Armine using such shocking language that Rob, as a senior boy, you know, put him under the pump at last to put a stop to it."
Before Caroline's fierce, incredulous indignation had found a word, Jessie had exclaimed "Mamma!" in a tone of strong remonstrance; then, "Never mind, Aunt Carey, I know it is only Mrs. Coffinkey, and Johnny promised he would tell the whole story if any one brought that horrid nonsense to you about poor little Armine."
Kind, gentle Jessie seemed quite transported out of herself, as she flew to the door and called Johnny, leaving the two mothers looking at each other, and Ellen, somewhat startled, saying "I'm sure, if it is not true, I'm very sorry, Caroline, but it came from--"
She broke off, for Johnny was scuffling across the hall, calling out "Holloa, Jessie, what's up?"
"Johnny, she's done it!" said Jessie. "You said if the wrong one was accused you would tell the whole story!"
"And what do they say?" asked John, who was by this time in the room.
"Mamma has been telling Aunt Carey that Rob put poor little Armine under the pump for using bad language."
"I say!" exclaimed John; "if that is not a cram!"
"You said you knew nothing of it," said his mother.
"I said I didn't do it. No more I did," said John.
"No more did Rob, I am sure," said his mother.
But Johnny, though using no word of denial, made it evident that she was mistaken, as he answered in an odd tone of excuse, "Armie was cheeky."
"But he didn't use bad words!" said Caroline, and she met a look of comfortable response.
"Let us hear, John," said his mother, now the most agitated. "I can't believe that Rob would so ill-treat a little fellow like Armie, even if he did lose his temper for a moment. Was Armine impertinent?"
"Well, rather," said John. "He wouldn't do Rob's French exercise." And then--as the ladies cried out, he added--"O yes,
"Bobus?"
"O yes, Bobus would do anybody's exercises at a penny for Latin, two for French, and three for Greek," said John, not aware of the shock he gave.
"And Armine would not?" said his mother. "Was that it?"
"Not only that," said John; "but the little beggar must needs up and say he would not help to act a falsehood, and you know n.o.body could stand that."
Caroline understood the gravity of such an offence better than Ellen did, for that good lady had never had much in common with her boys after they outgrew the nursery. She answered, "Armine was quite right."
"So much the worse for him, I fear," said Caroline.
"Yes," said John, "it would have been all very well to give him a cuff and tell him to mind his own business."
"All very well!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed his mother.
"But you know," continued Johnny to his aunt, "the seniors are always mad at a junior being like that; and there was another fellow who dragged him to the great school pump, and put him in the trough, and they said they would duck him till he swore to do whatever Rob ordered."
"Swore!" exclaimed his mother. "You don't mean that, Johnny?"
"Yes, I do, mamma," said John. "I would tell you the words, only you wouldn't like them. And Armine said it would be breaking the Third Commandment, which was the very way to aggravate them most. So they pumped on his head, and tried if he would say it. 'No,' he said. 'You may kill me like the forty martyrs, but I won't,' and of course that set them on to pump the more."
"But, Johnny, did you see it all?" cried Caroline. "How could you?"
"I couldn't help it, Aunt Carey."
"Yes, Aunt Carey," again broke in Jessie, "he was held down. That horrid--well, I won't say whom, Johnny--held him, and his arm was so twisted and grazed that he was obliged to come to me to put some lily-leaves on it, and if he would but show it, it is all black and yellow still."
Carey, much moved, went over and kissed both her boy's champions, while Ellen said, with tears in her eyes, "Oh, Johnny, I'm glad you were at least not so bad. What ended it?"
"The school-bell," said Johnny. "I say, please don't let Rob know I told, or I shall catch it."
"Your father--"
"Mamma! You aren't going to tell him!" cried Jessie and Johnny, both in horror, interrupting her.
"Yes, children, I certainly shall. Do you think such wickedness as that ought to be kept from him? Nearly killing a fatherless child like that, because he was not as bad as they were, and telling falsehoods about it too! I never could have believed it of Rob. Oh! what school does to one's boys!" She was agitated and overcome to a degree that startled Carey, who began to try to comfort her.
"Perhaps Rob did not understand what he was about, and you see he was led on. Armine will soon be all right again, and though he is a dear, good little fellow, maybe the lesson may have been good for him."
"How can you treat it so lightly?" cried poor Ellen, in her agitated indignation. "It was a mercy that the child did not catch his death; and as to Rob--! And when Mr. Ogilvie always said the boys were so improved, and that there was no bullying! It just shows how much he knows about it! To think what they have made of my poor Rob! His father will be so grieved! I should not wonder if he had a fit of the gout!"
The shock was far greater to her than to one who had never kept her boys at a distance, and who understood their ways, characters, and code of honour; and besides Rob was her eldest, and she had credited him with every sterling virtue. Jessie and Johnny stood aghast. They had only meant to defend their little cousin, and had never expected either that she would be so much overcome, or that she would insist on their father knowing all, as she did with increasing anger and grief at each of their attempts at persuading her to the contrary. Caroline thought he ought to know. Her children's father would have known long ago, but then his wrath would have been a different thing from what seemed to be apprehended from his brother; and she understood the distress of Jessie and John, though her pity for Rob was but small. Whatever she tried to say in the way of generous mediation or soothing only made it worse; and poor Ellen, far from being her Serene Highness, was, between scolding and crying, in an almost hysterical state, so that Caroline durst not leave her or the frightened Jessie, and was relieved at last to hear the Colonel coming into the house, when, thinking her presence would do more harm than good, and longing to return to her little son, she slipped away, and was joined at the door by her own John, who asked--
"What's up, mother?"
"Did you know all about this dreadful business, Jock?"
"Afterwards, of course, but I was shut up in school, writing three hundred disgusting lines of Virgil, or I'd have got the brutes off some way."
"And so little Armie is the brave one of all!"