"Mr. Ernescliffe! You used to call him Alan!" said Mary.
"Yes, but that is all over now. You forget what we do on board. Captain Gordon himself calls me Mr. May!"
Some laughed, others were extremely impressed.
"Ha! There's Ned Anderson coming," cried Mary. "Now! Let him see you, Harry."
"What matters Ned Anderson to me?" said Harry; and, with an odd mixture of shamefacedness and cordiality, he marched full up to his old school-fellow, and shook hands with him, as if able, in the plenitude of his officership, to afford plenty of good-humoured superiority. Tom had meantime subsided out of all view. But poor Harry's exultation had a fall.
"Well!" graciously inquired 'Mr. May', "and how is Harvey?"
"Oh, very well. We are expecting him home to-morrow."
"Where has he been?"
"To Oxford, about the Randall."
Harry gave a disturbed, wondering look round, on seeing Edward's air of malignant satisfaction. He saw nothing that reassured him, except the quietness of Norman's own face, but even that altered as their eyes met. Before another word could be said, however, the doctor's hand was on Harry's shoulder.
"You must not keep him now, Ned," said he--"his sister has not seen him yet."
And he moved his little procession onwards, still resting on Harry's shoulder, while a silence had fallen on all, and even the young sailor ventured no question. Only Tom's lips were quivering, and Ethel had squeezed Norman's hand. "Poor Harry!" he muttered, "this is worst of all! I wish we had written it to him."
"So do I now, but we always trusted it would come right. Oh! if I were but a boy to flog that Edward!"
"Hush, Ethel, remember what we resolved."
They were entering their own garden, where, beneath the shade of the tulip-tree, Margaret lay on her couch. Her arms were held out, and Harry threw himself upon her, but when he rose from her caress, Norman and Tom were gone.
"What is this?" he now first ventured to ask.
"Come with me," said Dr. May, leading the way to his study, where he related the whole history of the suspicion that Norman had incurred. He was glad that he had done so in private, for Harry's indignation and grief went beyond his expectations; and when at last it appeared that Harvey Anderson was actually Randall-scholar, after opening his eyes with the utmost incredulity, and causing it to be a second time repeated, he gave a gulp or two, turned very red, and ended by laying his head on the table, and fairly sobbing and crying aloud, in spite of dirk, uniform, and manhood.
"Harry! why, Harry, my boy! We should have prepared you for this," said the doctor affectionately. "We have left off breaking our hearts about it. I don't want any comfort now for having gold instead of glitter; though at first I was as bad as you."
"Oh, if I had but been there!" said Harry, combating unsuccessfully with his tears.
"Ah! so we all said, Norman and all. Your word would have cleared him--that is, if you had not been in the thick of the mischief. Ha! July, should not you have been on the top of the wall?"
"I would have stood by him, at least. Would not I have given Axworthy and Anderson two such black eyes as they could not have shown in school for a week? They had better look out!" cried Harry savagely.
"What! An officer in her Majesty's service! Eh, Mr. May?"
"Don't, papa, don't. Oh! I thought it would have been so happy, when I came home, to see Norman Randall-scholar. Oh! now I don't care for the ship, nor anything." Again Harry's face went down on the table.
"Come, come, Harry," said Dr. May, pulling off the spectacles that had become very dewy, "don't let us make fools of ourselves, or they will think we are dying for the scholarship."
"I don't care for the scholarship, but to have June turned down--and disgrace--"
"What I care for, Harry, is having June what he is, and that I know better now."
"He is! he is--he is June himself, and no mistake!" cried Harry, with vehemence.
"The prime of the year, is not it?" said the doctor, smiling, as he stroked down the blue sleeve, as if he thought that generous July did not fall far short of it.
"That he is!" exclaimed Harry. "I have never met one fellow like him."
"It will be a chance if you ever do," said Dr. May. "That is better than scholarships!"
"It should have been both," said Harry.
"Norman thinks the disappointment has been very good for him," said the doctor.
"Perhaps it made him what he is now. All success is no discipline, you know."
Harry looked as if he did not know.
"Perhaps you will understand better by-and-by, but this I can tell you, Harry, that the patient bearing of his vexation has done more to renew Norman's spirits than all his prosperity. See if if has not. I believe it is harder to every one of us, than to him. To Ethel, especially, it is a struggle to be in charity with the Andersons."
"In charity!" repeated Harry. "Papa! you don't want us to like a horrid, sneaking, mean-spirited pair like those, that have used Norman in that shameful way?"
"No, certainly not; I only want you to feel no more personal anger than if it had been Cheviot, or some indifferent person, that had been injured."
"I should have hated them all the same!" cried Harry.
"If it is all the same, and it is the treachery you hate, I ask no more," said the doctor.
"I can't help it, papa, I can't! If I were to meet those fellows, do you think I could shake hands with them? If I did not lick Ned all down Minster Street, he might think himself lucky."
"Well, Harry, I won't argue any more. I have no right to preach forbearance. Your brother's example is better worth than my precept. Shall we go back to Margaret, or have you anything to say to me?"
Harry made no positive answer, but pressed close to his father, who put his arm round him, while the curly head was laid on his shoulder. Presently he said, with a great sigh, "There's nothing like home."
"Was that what you wanted to say?" asked Dr. May, smiling, as he held the boy more closely to him.
"No; but it will be a long time before I come back. They think we shall have orders for the Pacific."
"You will come home our real lion," said the doctor. "How much you will have to tell!"
"Yes," said Harry; "but oh! it is very different from coming home every night, not having any one to tell a thing to."
"Do you want to say anything now?"
"I don't know. I told you in my letter about the half-sovereign."
"Ay, never mind that."
"And there was one night, I am afraid, I did not stand by a little fellow that they bullied about his prayers. Perhaps he would have gone on, if I had helped him!"
"Does he sail with you?"
"No, he was at school. If I had told him that he and I would stand by each other--but he looked so foolish, and began to cry! I am sorry now."
"Weak spirits have much to bear," said the doctor, "and you stronger ones, who don't mind being bullied, are meant, I suppose, to help them, as Norman has been doing by poor little Tommy."
"It was thinking of Norman--that made me sorry. I knew there was something else, but you see I forget when I don't see you and Margaret every day."
"You have One always near, my boy."
"I know, but I cannot always recollect. And there is such a row at night on board, I cannot think or attend as I ought," murmured Harry.
"Yes, your life, sleeping at home in quiet, has not prepared you for that trial," said the doctor. "But others have kept upright habits under the same, you know--and God helps those who are doing their best."
Harry sighed.
"I mean to do my best," he added; "and if it was not for feeling bad, I should like it. I do like it"--and his eye sparkled, and his smile beamed, though the tear was undried.
"I know you do!" said Dr. May, smiling, "and for feeling bad, my Harry, I fear you must do that by sea, or land, as long as you are in this world. God be thanked that you grieve over the feeling. But He is ready to aid, and knows the trial, and you will be brought nearer to Him before you leave us."