Jack Raymond

Now this new dread took possession of him so wholly that all lesser griefs were driven out. Fear walked behind him all day long, and caught him by the throat when night came on. "Four months," he would repeat to himself; "four months!" four months to decide in, to make up his mind, to think of a plan. He must run away, drown himself, escape some­how — anyhow. To go back to Porthcarrick would drive him mad.

"Raymond," said Dr. Cross, on the last Monday of the term, "you remember it was arranged that you should spend Easter here? I find now that it can't be managed, because of the spring cleaning; so I wrote to ask your uncle if he could make it convenient to have you home, and he wires that he'll ex­pect you next Saturday. I'm glad, for I think a scamper on the moors will do you good."

The spring cleaning difficulty was a kindly fiction, Dr. Cross having decided that the boy must be homesick.

Jack went out into the playing fields with a face of stone. His four months' grace had vanished, and he must decide now what he would do. He walked straight before him, thinking, his eyes on the ground.

He might run away. But there was the risk of being caught and taken home by force. Also, to run away, when one has no money and no friend to go to, would mean a lot of thinking, and pla

He walked down to the pond in the hollow of the furthest field. The deep water lay still and black, bordered by trails of leafless bramble and sodden wrecks of last year's rushes. He threw a stone into the middle of the pond, and watched till the slow ripples died away; then crept along an overhanging tree trunk, and looked down into the water. Yes, it would be quite easy.

Then in one instant the fear of death took hold upon him. He shut his eyes, that he might not see the water, and clung with both hands to the tree trunk. "I can't!" he pleaded with the thing that seemed to be behind him, driving him into the pond. "Oh, I can't! I can't! I can't!"

He reached solid ground again, and opened his eyes. If he had only been brave for one minute, it would have been all over by now; but he was a coward. All degraded creatures are cowards; he remembered reading that somewhere. He was not brave enough to drown himself, or to run away; so he must submit, as cowards always have to do. He must go back to Porthcarrick, and see the wood-shed, and his uncle's face, and the stair­case which they had gone up together. He would be put to sleep in that same room; to pass interminable nights alone there; and to see the day dawn and the sun arise and shame him, shining in upon the place where he had been tied up like a dog...

"Why, Raymond, what's the matter with you, boy?"

Jack put out both hands in the direction of the voice.

"I... feel sick."

Dr. Cross took him by the arm. "Come indoors," he said; "you'd better lie down."

The dormitory was quiet and airy. Jack lay down on his bed, and the head-master brought him a glass of water.

"Let me look at your tongue. No, that's all right; and you're not feverish..."

"There's nothing the matter with me; I only got a bit giddy."

Dr. Cross stood looking down at him for a little while.

"I wonder whether you've been feeling rather lonely, perhaps, as you hadn't been away from home before? I remember when I was a youngster I didn't like it at first."

Jack clenched his teeth. Oh, if they would leave him alone, all these people! What was it to them? He was not going to make a fuss; he never made a fuss about things. He would manage to bear it somehow, if they'd only let him alone.

"You'll be all right next term," said Dr. Cross. "Perhaps you feel rather a stranger here still, but you'll soon get used to it."

It was a little time before Jack unclenched his teeth.

"Oh, yes," he said; " I shall get used to it."

The class bell rang, and Jack lifted his head from the pillow. Dr. Cross gently pushed him down again.

"No, you'd better lie still for a bit, and go to sleep."

The door shut behind him at last. Jack put up his left hand, and bit it till tears started under his closed eyelids; then he pressed it down over his eyes, trying to make shapes and colours come, and shut out other images. The marks of his teeth showed in livid crescents on the brown skin.

CHAPTER VIII

"Raymond!" cried Theo, bursting into the form room. "Mother's come!"

Jack's head went down over the algebra book.

"Hold your noise, you little donkey! Can't you see I'm doing lessons?"

"Well, you needn't be so beastly sulky, if you are!" Theo was making rapid progress in English, and his unfamiliar elegance of speech had vanished with his golden curls. "I only came to say that mother wants you."

"Oh, damn!" said Jack, flinging down his book.

He went into the other room with his made-up face, indifferent and morose. Helen's deep, compassionate eyes looked him over gravely as he entered.

"Jack," she said, "Theo and I want you to spend your Easter holidays with us in the Isle of Wight. Will you?"

He drew back a step, raised his eyes slowly and looked at her. Oh, it was no use to play a part; it might deceive every one else, but not her; she had read all his secrets from the first.

"What do you want me for? "

She smiled.

"Well, chiefly because we like you."

"Oh, do come!" Theo put in. "You can teach me to row, and -----"

"What do you want me for?" Jack re­peated doggedly. He had come a little nearer, looking straight into her face. An insane desire to laugh was taking possession of him. Suppose she were ever to come across his uncle, or Mr. Hewitt, or Dr. Jenkins, and to hear what had happened last summer? Suppose he were to tell her him­self, and let her choose whether she would invite him then or not? A kind of horrible internal mirth shook him at the thought of how she would snatch up her darling and flee. He had already learned that there are some things, to be accused of which is enough; nobody wants to hear about your i

She came up to him, and put her hand on his shoulder. Well, he was behaving like a sneaking cad, of course, and sailing under false colours; but it would save him from Porthcarrick. And if he was such a beastly coward that he couldn't save himself the other way...

"Oh, yes, I'll come fast enough," he said; "if uncle will let me."

Helen stayed at the village i

All the way to Shanklin he kept assur­ing himself that he was going to enjoy to the full whatever pleasures the gods might grant, and put off thinking of anything else till the end of the holidays. He was safe for four months now, and could afford three weeks' happiness, surely. Other people were happy for years and years. For the first few days he wearied the household with his riotous high spirits; then, returning from the shore one afternoon and entering the little garden, he came upon Theo lying on the grass under the big laburnum tree, reading aloud to his mother, his head resting on her knee. She had one arm round the child's neck, and her other hand played with his hair as she listened. That night Jack lay and sobbed till he was sick and dizzy. Oh, it was un­fair, unfair, unfair!