Chapter 37
"Well, so he is," said Jock; "but I say, mother, don't go making him c.o.c.kier. You know he's only fit to be st.i.tched up in one of Jessie's little red Sunday books, and he must learn to keep a civil tongue in his head, and not be an insufferable little donkey."
"You would not have had him give in and do it! Never, Jock!"
"Why no, but he could have got off with a little chaff instead of coming out with his testimony like that, and so I've been telling him. So don't you set him up again to think himself forty martyrs all in one, or there will be no living with him."
"If all boys were like him."
Jock made a sound of horror and disgust that made her laugh.
"He's all very well," added he in excuse; "but to think of all being like that. The world would be only one big m.u.f.f."
"But, Jock, what's this about Bobus being paid for doing people's exercises?"
"Bobus is a cute one," said Jock.
"I thought he had more uprightness," she sighed. "And you, Jock?"
"I should think not!" he laughed. "n.o.body would trust me."
"Is that the only reason?" she said, sadly, and he looked up in her face, squeezed her hand, and muttered--
"One mayn't like dirt without making such a row."
"That's like father's boy," she said, and he wrung her hand again.
They found Armine coiled up before the fire with a book, and Jock greeted him with--
"Well, you little donkey, there's such a s.h.i.+ndy at the Croft as you never heard."
"Mother, you know!" cried Armine, running into her outstretched arms and being covered with her kisses. "But who told?" he asked.
"John and Jessie," said Jock. "They always said they would if anyone said anything against you to mother or Uncle Robert."
"Against me?" said Armine.
"Yes," said Jock. "Didn't you know it got about through some of the juniors or their sisters that it was Brownlow maximus gently chastising you for bad language, and of course Mrs. Coffinkey told Aunt Ellen."
"Oh, but Jock," cried Armine, turning round in consternation, "I hope Rob does not know."
And on further pressing it was extracted that Rob, when sent home with him, had threatened him with the great black vaulted cellars of Kencroft if he divulged the truth. When Jock left them the relief of pouring out the whole history to the mother was evidently great.
"You know, mother, I couldn't," he cried, as if there had been a physical impossibility.
"Why, dear child. How did you bear their horrid cruelty?"
"I thought it could not be so bad as it was for the forty soldiers on the Lake. Dear grandmamma read us the story out of a little red book one Sunday evening when you were gone to Church. They froze, you know, and it was only cold and nasty for me."
"So the thought of them carried you through?"
"G.o.d carried me through," said the child reverently.
Just then the Colonel's heavy tread was heard, and with him came Mr.
Ogilvie, whom he had met on the road and informed. The good man was indeed terribly grieved, and his first words were, "Caroline, I cannot tell you how much shocked and concerned I am;" and then he laid his hand on Armine's shoulder saying--"My little boy, I am exceedingly sorry for what you have suffered. One day Robert will be so too. You have been a n.o.ble little fellow, and if anything could console me for the part Robert has played it would be the seeing one of my dear brother's sons so like his father."
He gave the downcast brow a fatherly kiss, so really like those of days gone by that the boy's overstrained spirits gushed forth in sobs and tears, of which he was so much ashamed that he rushed out of the room, leaving his mother greatly overcome, his uncle distressed and annoyed, and his master not much less so, at the revelation of so much evil, so hard either to reach or to understand.
"I would have brought Robert to apologise," said the Colonel, "if he had been as yet in a mood to do so properly."
"Oh! that would have been dreadful for us all," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Caroline, under her breath.
"But I can make nothing of him," continued he, "He is perfectly stolid and seems incapable of feeling anything, though I have talked to him as I never thought to have to speak to any son of mine; but he is deaf to all."
The Colonel, in his wrath, even while addressing only Caroline and Mr.
Ogilvie, had raised his voice as if he were shouting words of command, so that both shrank a little, and Carey said--
"I don't think he knew it was so bad."
"What? Cheating his masters and torturing a helpless child for not yielding to his tyranny?"
"People don't always give things their right names even to themselves,"
said Mr. Ogilvie. "I should try to see it from the boy's point of view."
"I have no notion of extenuating ill-conduct or making excuses! That's the modern way! So principles get lowered! I tell you, sir, there are excuses for everything. What makes the difference is only the listening to them or not."
"Yes," ventured Caroline, "but is there not a difference between finding excuses for oneself and for other people?"
"All alike, lowering the principle," said the Colonel, with something of the same slowness of comprehension as his son. "If excuses are to be made for everything, I don't wonder that there is no teaching one's boys truth or common honesty and humanity."
"But, Robert," said Caroline, roused to defence; "do you really mean that in your time n.o.body bullied or cribbed?"
"There was some shame about it if they did," said the Colonel. "Now, I suppose, I am to be told that it is an ordinary custom to be connived at."
"Certainly not by me," said Mr. Ogilvie. "I had hoped that the standard of honour had been raised, but it is very hard to mete the exact level of the schoolboy code from the outside."
"And your John and mine have never given in to it," added Caroline.
"What do you propose to do, Mr. Ogilvie?" said the Colonel. "I shall do my part with my boy as a father. What will you do with him and the other bully, who I find was Cripps."
"I shall see Cripps's father first. I think it might be well if we both saw him before deciding on the form of discipline. We have to think not only of justice but of the effect on their characters."
"That's the modern system," said the Colonel indignantly. "Fine work it would make in the army. I know when punishment is deserved. I don't set up to be Providence, to know exactly what work it is to do. I leave that to my Maker and do my duty."
He was cut short by his son Joe rus.h.i.+ng in headlong, exclaiming--
"Papa, papa, please come! Rob has knocked Johnny down and he doesn't come round."
Colonel Brownlow hurried off, Caroline trying to make him hear her offer to follow if she could be useful, and sending Jock to see whether there was any opening for her. Unless the emergency were very great indeed she knew her absence would be preferred, and so she and Mr. Ogilvie remained, talking the matter over, with more pity for the delinquent than his own family would have thought natural.
"It really is a terrible thing to be stupid," she said. "I don't imagine that unlucky boy ever entered into his father's idea of truth and honour, which really is fine in its way."