With Wolfe in Canada: The Winning of a Continent by G. A. Henty (electric book reader TXT) π
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- Author: G. A. Henty
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But his eye fell upon Richard when James said that he had witnesses. He saw an unmistakable look of terror come over his face, and the bitter conviction flashed across him that James's story was the true one.
"There is no occasion to give him the book, Hobson," he said, as the constable was about to hand the Testament to one of the fishermen. "This is a private investigation, not a formal magisterial sitting, and there is no occasion, at this stage, to take any evidence on oath."
"What is your name, my man?"
"John Mullens, your honour."
"Well, just tell me, Mullens, what you know about this business."
"I was a-mending my nets, yer honour, along with Simon Harte, and young Master Walsham was a-sailing his boat in a pool, along with the little gal as lives at his mother's."
"How far were you from the spot where he was?" the squire asked.
"Two hundred yards or so, I should say," the fisherman replied. "We was working behind a boat, but we could see over it well enough. Presently we saw Master Horton come down, and stand alongside the others.
"I said to Simon, 'He is a good-looking young fellow, is the squire's nephew,'" and the fisherman's eye twinkled with a grim humour, as he glanced at Richard's swollen face.
"The boat got stuck, and Master Walsham threw something in close to it to get it off. Then I see Master Horton stoop, and pick up a chunk of stone, and chuck it hard; and it hit the boat and knocked it over. I see the little girl turn round and say something to Master Horton, and then she put her apron up to her face and began to cry. He gave her a sort of shove, and she tumbled down into the edge of the pool.
"I says to Simon, 'What a shame!' but afore the words was out of my mouth, Master Walsham he hits him, and hits him hard, too. Then there was a fight, but Master Horton, he hadn't a chance with James, who gave him as sound a licking as ever you see'd, and ending with knocking him backwards into the pool. Then he gets up and shakes his fist at James, and then goes off as hard as he could. That's all I know about it."
"It's a wicked lie," Richard burst out. "They have made it up between them. There was nobody there."
"Hold your tongue, sir, I tell you," the squire said, so sternly that Richard, who had risen from his seat, shrank back again and remained silent; while Simon Harte gave his evidence, which was almost identical with that of the other fisherman.
"Have you any other witnesses?" the magistrate asked James.
"Only the little girl, sir, but I did not bring her up. She is so little, I thought it was better she should not come, but I can send for her if you wish it."
"It is not necessary," Mr. Linthorne said. "I have heard quite sufficient. The manner in which you and these fishermen have given your evidence convinces me that you are speaking the truth, and I am sorry that you should have been placed in this position. You will understand that this is not a formal court, and therefore that there is no question of discharging you. I can only say that, having heard the story of what took place at this fight between you and my nephew, I am convinced that you did what any other boy of spirit would have done, under the same circumstances, and that the punishment which you administered to him was thoroughly deserved.
"Good morning!"
James Walsham and his witnesses left the room. Mr. Linthorne rose, and saying to his nephew, "Follow me, sir," went to his study.
Without saying a word as to what had passed, he took down some books from the shelves, and proceeded to examine Richard in them. A few minutes sufficed to show that the boy was almost absolutely ignorant of Latin, while a few questions in geography and history showed that he was equally deficient in these also.
"That will do," the squire said. "Go up to your room, and remain there until I send for you."
An hour after this a dog cart came round to the door. Mr. Robertson took his place in it with his trunk, and was driven away to Exeter, never to return.
For two days Richard remained a prisoner in his room. His meals were brought up to him, but the servant who came with them answered no questions, telling him that the squire's orders were that he was not to hold any conversation with him. There was, indeed, a deep pleasure among the servants at the Hall, at the knowledge that Richard Horton was in disgrace. The exact circumstances of the affair were unknown, for the fishermen had not been present when Richard had told his story, and Mrs. Walsham, who was much shocked when James told her the circumstances, had impressed upon him that it was better to say nothing more about it.
"You are clear in the matter, Jim, and that is enough for you. The squire will, no doubt, punish his nephew for the wicked lies he has told. Some day, you know, the boy will be master here. Don't let us set everyone against him by telling this disgraceful story."
So, beyond the fact that there had been a fight between James Walsham and the squire's nephew, and that Richard Horton had been thrashed, and that the squire himself had said that it served him right, Sidmouth knew nothing of what had taken place in the justice room.
Mr. Linthorne's first impulse had been to send his nephew at once back to his parents, with the message that he would have nothing more to do with him; but, though he had the reputation of being a stern man, the squire was a very kind-hearted one. He was shocked to find that the boy was a liar, and that, to shield himself, he had invented this falsehood against his opponent; but upon reflection, he acknowledged that he himself had been to blame in the matter. He had taken the boy into his house, had assigned to him the position of his heir, and had paid no further attention to him.
Unfortunately, the man he had selected as his tutor had proved false to the trust. The boy had been permitted to run wild, his head was turned with the change in his prospects, his faults had grown unchecked. It was to be said for him that he had not intended, in the first place, to bring his opponent into disgrace by making this false accusation against him, for his tutor had acknowledged that he had said he did not intend to tell him, or to take any step in the matter, and his position of accuser had been, to some extent, forced upon him by the necessity of his confirming the tale, which he had told to account for his being thrashed by a boy smaller than himself.
Yes, it would be unfair upon the boy utterly to cast him off for this first offence. He would give him one more trial.
The result of the squire's reflection was that, on the third day of his imprisonment, Richard was sent for to the study. The squire did not motion to him to sit down, and he remained standing with, as the squire said to himself, a hang-dog look upon his face.
"I have been thinking over this matter quietly, Richard, for I did not wish to come to any hasty conclusion. My first impulse was to pack you off home, and have no more to do with you, but I have thought better of it. Mean and despicable as your conduct has been, I take some blame to myself, for not having seen that your tutor did his duty by you. Therefore, I have resolved to give you another chance, but not here. I could not bear to have a boy, who has proved himself a despicable liar, about me; but I will try and think that this was a first offence, and that the lesson which it has taught you may influence all your future life, and that you may yet grow up an honourable man.
"But you will remember that, henceforth, you are on trial, and that the position in which you will stand by my will, will depend solely and entirely on your own conduct. If you prove, by that, that this lesson has had its effect, that you deeply repent of your conduct, and are resolved to do your best to be henceforth straight, honourable, and true, you will, at my death, occupy the position I have intended for you. If not, not one single penny of my money will you get. I am going to put you in a school where you will be looked strictly after, and where you will have every chance of retrieving yourself. I have just written to a friend of mine, a post captain in his majesty's service, asking him to receive you as a midshipman. I have told him frankly that you have been somewhat over indulged, and that the discipline of the sea life will be of great benefit to you, and have requested him to keep a tight hand over you, and let me know occasionally how you are going on. I have told him that your position as my heir will, to a very large extent, depend upon his reports, and have asked him, in the name of our old friendship, to be perfectly frank and open in them with me. I have said 'he is my eldest nephew, but I have others who will take his place, if he is unworthy of the position, and although I should be sorry if he should be found wanting, I will commit the interests of all the tenants and people on my estate to no one who is not, in every respect, an honourable gentleman.'
"That will do, sir. You need not remain longer in your room, but you will not leave the grounds. My friend's ship is at Portsmouth at present, and doubtless I shall receive an answer in the course of a few days. Until then, the less we see each other, the more pleasant for us both."
There were few more miserable boys in England than Richard Horton, during the week which elapsed before the answer to the squire's letter was received. It cannot be said that, in the true sense of the word, he was sorry for his fault. He was furious with himself, not because he had lied, but because of the consequences of the lie. A thousand times he called himself a fool for having imperilled his position, and risked being sent back again to the dingy house in London, merely to excuse himself for being thrashed by a boy smaller than himself. Mad with his folly, not in having invented the story, but in having neglected to look round, to assure himself that there were no witnesses who would contradict it, he wandered disconsolate about the gardens and park, cursing what he called his fortune.
It was an additional sting to his humiliation, that he knew every servant in and about the house rejoiced at his discomfiture, and he imagined that there was a veiled smile of satisfaction, at his bruised visage and his notorious disgrace with the squire, on the face of every man he met outside, and of every woman who passed him in the house.
During the whole week he did not venture near the stables, for there he knew that he had rendered himself specially obnoxious, and there was nothing for him to do but to saunter listlessly about the garden, until the day arrived that the letter came granting the squire's request, and begging that he might be sent off at once, as the vessel would probably put to sea in a few days.
"Now, Richard," the squire said that evening to him, in a kinder voice than he had used on the last occasion, "you understand exactly how we stand towards each other. That being so, I do not wish to maintain our present uncomfortable relations. You have had your punishment, and, unless I hear to the contrary, I shall assume that the punishment has had its effect. When you return from sea, after your first voyage, you will come home here as if nothing had happened, and this business need never be alluded to
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