The Hero of Garside School

by J. Harwood Panting

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  HIBBERT ASKS STRANGE QUESTIONS

  The message brought back the minds of the boys with painful abruptnessto the struggle of a far different kind which was taking place in thesick-room. In the loss of the school flag they had forgotten, for thetime being, the crisis through which Hibbert was passing. It was no timefor cheering; it was a time of sadness--Paul, at least, felt so as heobeyed the message, and made his way to the sick-room.

  "Percival," came in a low, faint voice, as he entered.

  The face of the sick boy turned to him. Pale at all times, it now seemedbloodless, as white as the pillow upon which it rested. It seemed, too,to have shrunk, while the eyes had grown larger, and shone with a lightwhich Paul had never seen in them before.

  "You were the first one he asked for when he came to his senses," saidMrs. Trounce, as Paul stepped softly to the bedside. "I think he's a bitbetter now; aren't you?"

  "Much better, thank you," said the boy, with a painful attempt to smileat her. Then the bright eyes went again to Paul's face and rested there.

  "I'm glad to hear that, Hibbert," said Paul, taking the thin hand inhis. "You must make up your mind to get off that bed as soon aspossible, mustn't he, Mrs. Trounce?"

  "Just what I tell him," said the matron, cheerfully, for she knew thevalue of cheerfulness on the spirits of a patient. "If he makes up hismind to it, he'll soon be about again."

  "It's astonishing what we can do when we set our teeth hard, and go fora thing," continued Paul, adopting her cheerful tone and manner.

  "That's what you did when you came to me and saved my life. Oh,Percival, it was terrible!"

  And the thin hand went to the eyes with a gesture of pain.

  "Terrible! Hooking you out of that river? That's what I call beastlyingratitude. I think it's one of the best things I ever did in my life."

  "No, no," cried the boy quickly; "don't think me ungrateful. I couldn'tbear that. You don't think me ungrateful?"

  "Of course not. It's only my stupid way of putting things. All you'vegot to do now is to forget about the river, and everything connectedwith it. You're now on dry land--in a nice, warm, comfortable bed, whereyou needn't trouble about anything except getting well again."

  "Are the other fellows all right--Plunger and Moncrief, I mean?"

  "Right? Rather! Going stronger than ever, especially Plunger."

  "I'm glad of that. And--and the savages. Who were they?" asked Hibbert,with a shudder.

  "Can't you guess?" smiled Paul. "Nobody very dreadful. Three or four ofthe fellows of your Form--Bember, Baldry, Sedgefield, Viner."

  "I might have guessed it; but then I'm not like other boys. I'm such acoward--coward. I've fought against it so hard, but I can't get over it.I've tried to be brave--as brave as you are----"

  "Hush! Don't talk of bravery. You're forgetting the sand-pit. Don't putme on stilts, for I could never walk in them. We're just what God makesof us. There are plenty of thorns and thistles about, heaps of 'em; butnot many sensitive plants. That's what you are Hibbert--a beautiful,sensitive plant."

  "Ah, you don't know what I am. If only I could tell you--if only I couldtell you. You would hate me--hate me. Yes, Percival--hate me. You cancall me a beautiful, sensitive plant, while all the time I'm a beastlyhypocrite. Oh, why didn't you let me die--why didn't you let me go downin the river? Why did you save me?"

  He spoke with a sudden outburst of energy, raising himself, in hisfeverish excitement on his elbow.

  "Come, come! Master Percival will have to leave you, if you take on thatway," said the matron.

  "Yes, I think I'd better go now and come again to-morrow," said Paul,alarmed at this sudden outburst, which he took to be a slight touch ofdelirium.

  "Don't leave me, Percival--don't leave me just yet!" pleaded the boy."I--I was forgetting myself. I'll be quieter if you'll stay with me alittle longer."

  The thin fingers slipped into Paul's hand again, and clung to ittightly.

  "I'll stay with you a little longer, if you'll just do what I tell you."

  "Yes, yes. What?"

  "Just close your eyes and try to sleep."

  Hibbert obeyed him implicitly. He closed his eyes, as though to sleep,but still held fast to Paul's hand. In a few moments the pressurerelaxed, and he seemed to be really sleeping.

  "I'll watch over him for a bit, if you like," whispered Paul to thematron.

  Mrs. Trounce looked at her patient. He seemed tranquil enough now, andas she had other duties to attend to, she gladly availed herself ofPaul's offer.

  "I'll be back as soon as I can," she whispered as she went out.

  She hadn't been gone more than ten minutes before Hibbert's eyes openedagain.

  "Still here, Percival? It's very kind of you." Then, looking round:"Where's matron?"

  "Gone out for a bit. I've promised to look after you. Do you wantanything?"

  "No--except you. Matron's really gone?"--looking round again.

  "What a suspicious chap you're getting!" smiled Paul. "Do you thinkshe's hiding somewhere?"

  "I'm glad she's gone, Percival, because I wanted to speak toyou--alone."

  "But you promised to sleep."

  "Well, I've kept my promise. I've had quite a long doze."

  "Very long--ten minutes."

  "I can't sleep longer till I've said what I've got to say. Doesn't itsay somewhere in the Bible that we ought to confess our sins?"

  Paul could now see clearly enough that there was something troublingHibbert, and that it would only increase the trouble if he were torefuse to answer him. So he answered:

  "Of course it does. Let me see--you must know the words as well as Ido--'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us oursins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'"

  "Yes, those are the words I was trying to think of. I remember themquite well now. The water from the river seems to have got into mybrain, and things aren't quite so clear to me now as they used to be,you see."

  "That will come all right presently, and things will be quite as clearto you as ever they were. But you mustn't worry, or else they won't."

  "I can't help it; but I shan't worry so much when what is on my mind isoff it."

  "Shall I send for Mr. Weevil?"

  "No, no," answered the boy quickly; "it's you I want to speak to. Don'tleave me."

  Paul did not move. He kept his place beside the bed, though he had nowish to hear any confession. He guessed what it was. Some boyish freakor escapade, magnified into undue proportion by the sensitive boy nowthat he was so weak.

  "I won't leave you, but if you've got anything to say, I'm not thefellow to say it to. There's One can do you a great deal more good thanI can, Hibbert. Just confess to Him when you say your prayers to-night.He'll help you a lot more than I can."

  "Supposing I have done that, Percival. Supposing I did it when I closedmy eyes a little while ago; and supposing even then a voice seemedwhispering in my ear, 'If you want peace, if you want to meet yourmother in heaven, act the hypocrite no longer. Speak to Percival.' Whatthen?"

  "Then I should say use your own judgment. Do what seems best."

  Hibbert closed his eyes for a moment, as though he were trying to decidewithin himself what was best. At length he opened them again.

  "Do you remember that afternoon when I came to you in the writing-roomand told you Mr. Travers wished to speak to you?"

  "Quite well. Nearly all the fellows had deserted me but you. I waswretched."

  "You looked it. You gave me a letter to post. Do you remember that?"

  "Yes," answered Paul shortly. He remembered it but too well. It was theletter he had written to Mr. Moncrief, to which that gentleman had notdeigned to answer.

  "When I came back to you in the writing-room you were tracing names onthe blotting-pad. I caught sight of one--Zuker. You noticed that I wassurprised at seeing it, and asked me if I knew anybody of that name. Itold you that I did. That I once knew a boy of that name when I was at
school in Germany. And then you told me something I'm never likely toforget--never likely to forget to my dying hour. You may think itstrange, but the words came suddenly to my ears when I fell off the raftinto the river."

  "Indeed! What was it I told you?"

  "You told me that it was through a man of the name of Zuker that yourfather lost his life."

  "Yes, that's true enough. So it was--Israel Zuker. What about it?"

  "What about it!" Hibbert made a painful effort to laugh. "Why,Percival----"

  He stopped abruptly, as the door suddenly opened, and Mr. Weevilentered.

  "What, Percival! You here?" exclaimed the master. "Where is Mrs.Trounce?"

  "Hibbert wanted me to sit by him, and I'm taking her place for a shorttime. She'll be back presently, sir."

  "Are you feeling better?" asked the master, as he turned from Paul tothe patient.

  "Oh, yes, much better. It's done me good to have Percival here."

  "I'm glad to hear it."

  Mr. Weevil's hand went gently, lovingly over the boy's brow, and hewatched him anxiously through his half-closed eyes. Paul recalled themaster's grief when he first saw the boy after the accident, and otherlittle traits of kindness--traits which had shown him that Mr. Weevilwas not altogether the stern, harsh man he had one time thought him.None the less, he was sorry that he had entered the room at that moment.Hibbert had awakened his curiosity. What was it that was weighing on hismind? What had he to tell him about the man Zuker? He wished Mr. Weevilhad kept from the room a bit longer.

  Paul waited, hoping that he would go out. But the master did not movefrom the position he had taken up at the bedside, and his hand continuedto move caressingly over the boy's forehead. After a minute or two'ssilence he turned to Paul.

  "You've had your fair spell of watching, Percival. I'll take your placetill Mrs. Trounce returns. Hibbert looks very flushed and feverish. I'mafraid he's been speaking too much."

  What could Paul say? He had no alternative but to obey. Hibbert's eyesfollowed him as he went out.

  "What was it he had to tell me, I wonder?" Paul asked himself, as hepassed along the corridor.

  It was a long time before he slept that night. His mind kept travellingback over the many events of a singularly eventful day. And when he atlast dozed off to sleep, he could hear the voice of Hibbert sounding along way off.

  "Oh, why didn't you let me die? Why didn't you let me go down in theriver? Why did you save me? Don't leave me, Percival--don't leave me.I'll be quieter if you stay with me a little longer."

  Then the voice died away and all was blank.