Looking round to put the question, he stopped short; the boy was watching him silently, with a look that caught his breath to see; a cold, secret, steady look from under lowered eyelids.
"You think that's why?" There had been a little pause; but at the sound of Jack's voice the doctor recovered himself and asked gravely:
"Don't you?"
The boy let his eyes fall slowly; he had realised that Dr. Jenkins understood nothing.
"Did he tell you any reason?" the doctor persisted. Again there was a perceptible pause.
"He said he must keep the curse to himself and not let it loose on others,"' Jack answered in his apathetic, passive way, as if speaking of strangers.
"I thought so. Now, a friend of mine is headmaster of a good school in Yorkshire; and I think, if I talk the thing over with your uncle, he'll let me recommend you to him on my own responsibility. It will be a heavy responsibility, Jack, after what has happened; but I should just make up my mind to trust you. You wouldn't make me regret that, would you?"
A sullen fire was beginning to glow in Jack's eyes. After waiting a little for him to speak, the doctor added softly:
"You see, my boy, I must think of the others too. If any little fellow came to ruin through you, and it was my fault, I should never forgive myself."
"Then why should I go to a good school, if I'm so bad?" Jack broke in. "I've had enough of good people. Surely there's some one in the world that's bad enough already not to be harmed by coming near me? Why should I go to school at all? I'd rather begin and earn my own bread. I'm strong enough, and I..." He broke off, and then added with a little laugh: "I shan't be too particular. I'll go as cabin-boy on a slaver if you like, so uncle isn't there."
"Come, my lad, that's nonsense," the doctor gently remonstrated. "Think it over, and just give me your promise that you'll turn over a new leaf and give up all those habits, and I'll ------"
Jack wrenched his hand savagely away.
"I'll promise nothing. I'll find a way out myself."
"I'm sorry, Jack," said Dr. Jenkins gravely. "You'd have done better to let me help you."
He had no chance to say any more, for the family returned from church, and Molly at once absorbed him. She was his best friend in Porthcarrick; he had conceived for her the peculiar kind of serious, fraternal affection which lonely bachelors sometimes feel for a very innocent and babyish little girl.
Jack had relapsed into his usual sullen silence. Till tea was finished he scarcely spoke.
"Uncle," he said suddenly.
He so seldom spoke to the Vicar now, unless obliged to, that every one looked up.
"Is it quite settled that I mayn't go to school?"
Mr. Raymond's face grew hard,
"Quite; and you know why. You have had your answer; now that is enough about the matter."
"Very well; I only wanted to be sure."
"You'd better lie down now, Jack," said Mrs. Raymond timidly. This conversation in the doctor's presence made her uncomfortable. "I'll come and read to you after Molly goes to bed."
Jack lay down. He had become very docile in trifles since his illness.
"Dr. Jenkins has promised to read now," he said carelessly.
The doctor looked round in surprise; he had made no such promise. Jack was looking at him steadily, and he thought again, how unnatural that suppressed intensity was in a boy's face.
"You mustn't worry Dr. Jenkins," said Aunt Sarah. "I'll read to you."
"Dr. Jenkins promised," Jack repeated. His face had set in the immovable lines that made it look like a mask; there was a violent domination in the black eyes. Dr. Jenkins came up to the sofa. He was attracted, in spite of himself, by this masterful personality.
"I'll read if you like, my boy. What is it to be — a story?"
"A chapter, please; we read nothing but the Bible on Sundays."
"Are you sure it's not troubling you too much, Dr. Jenkins?" Mrs. Raymond asked. As the doctor turned to answer her, he felt the sudden grip of Jack's fingers on his wrist. "Not a bit," he said. "I shall be delighted, if you and Mr. Raymond will put up with my reading; I'm not much of an elocutionist. Allow me."
He placed a chair for her, adding softly: "You'd better humour him as much as possible just now; he still gets a bit feverish towards evening."
She sat down and took Molly on her lap.
"I've found the place, sir," said Jack, holding out the brown Bible. "May I have the sofa turned round a bit more? The light hurts my eyes. Yes, that's right, thanks."
He was now facing his uncle's arm-chair. Dr. Jenkins sat down beside him, and took the Bible. It was open at the chapter with the marked verse.
"Surely you don't want this one?" he asked in surprise. "It's the commination service."
The Vicar looked up uneasily. "You had better read the lessons for the day," he said.
"I read them this morning," said Jack in his indifferent voice. "This one, if you don't mind, sir; I've had to learn it by heart, and I'm not sure I've got it right."
The contrast between his face and his speech had roused the doctor's curiosity. "Master Jack has a will of his own," he thought; "I'm glad it's not I that have to manage him." However, he began to read without further protest; he was puzzled, and also a little bit amused at being domineered over in this fashion by a disgraced schoolboy.
Jack's lips moved silently as he lay watching his uncle; evidently he was following the text from memory. The doctor read on, passing the nineteenth verse, where the brown stain marked the page, and skipping the improper passages, though his hearers knew them by heart. He felt embarrassed and uncomfortable, almost annoyed.
"I think we can find something more suitable than this," he said, when the chapter was finished. "Suppose I read the story of..."
"The next chapter, please." Jack spoke softly, without turning or removing his eyes from the figure in the arm-chair.
"Don't be troublesome, Jack," said the Vicar sharply. "Let Dr. Jenkins choose."
Jack's fingers closed round the doctor's wrist. "Go on, please," he whispered, without moving. "The next chapter..."
His face was still quite colourless and set. "I wonder what the boy is up to?" Dr. Jenkins thought. "Some devilry, certainly."
He was not so familiar with the Bible as the Raymonds were. Glancing over the opening verses of the twenty-eighth chapter, he began to read, well content to have got through the maledictions and come to the blessings. After the first column he realised what the chapter is about.
"Cursed shalt thou be in the city, and cursed shalt thou be in the field. Cursed shall be thy basket and thy store. Cursed shall be the fruit of thy body, and the fruit of thy land, the increase of thy kine, and the flocks of thy sheep. Cursed shalt thou be, when thou comest in, and cursed shalt thou be when thou goest out..."
He laid the Bible down on his knee; really he could not plough through any more of this.
Mrs. Raymond was quite white, and her lips had begun to tremble. The little girl on her knee was pale too, scared without knowing why. Jack's great eyes had never stirred from his uncle's face.
A kind of breathless hush had fallen in the room. The doctor picked up the book again, and went on reading, with a horrible sense that he was taking part in an execution. He floundered helplessly on and on, through the curses piled one upon another, to the tremendous peroration:
"In the morning thou shalt say, Would God it were even! and at even thou shalt say, Would God it were morning! for the fear of thine heart wherewith thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see..."