U.V <>-' GILBERT'S LAST SUMMER AT AJOJ WHAT IT TAUGHT BY GLANCE GATLORD, AUTHOR OF " BOY'S AT DR. MURRAY'S," "GILBERT STARR," AC. BOSTON: & YOTJISTG-, 1867. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1867, by GRAVES & YOUNG, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. RAINFORD SERIES. YOL. I. GILBERT STARE AXD ms LESSORS. " n. GILBERT'S LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. OTHER VOLUMES rs tivnttntt. CHAPTEK I. Ox THE ICE, ........ CHAPTER II. A LITTLE BOY'S COURAGE, 28 CHAPTER HI. PLOTTING, 43 CHAPTER IV. GILBERT'S DISMAY, 61 CHAPTER V. AN UNKNOWN FRIEND, 78 CHAPTER VI. GATES'S DISMAY, 95 CHAPTER VH. VERY PLEASANT DJfc, 115 CHAPTER VIH. FEAR COMETH AS DESOLATION, .... 131 CHAPTER IX. GILBERT'S OFFER, 150 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. THE SHADOW OF. DEATH, 158 CHAPTER XI. GRIEVING FOE Two, 185 CHAPTER XII. "GRAY!" 203 CHAPTER XIH. WHAT OLLOWED A TUMBLE, .... 221 CHAPTER XIV. GILBERT'S AWAKEXIXG, , 237 CHAPTER XY. " THE POOR OLD CAPTAIN," . . . . 255 CHAPTER XVI. MOSTLY ABOUT LETTERS, 275 CHAPTER XVII. DID THE SUMMER TEACH ANYTHING ? . . 292 CHAPTER XVIII. FAREWELLS, 314 fammfl[ at CHAPTER I. ON THE ICE. TT was a clear, crisp, sparkling night ; the * sky fairly white with stars, and the glit- tering crescent of a new moon dipping be- hind the roofs on Riverside hill. Winter was drawing to a close, though you would not have suspected it, had you seen how hard the river was frozen, from the foot of Mr. Winterhalter's lawn, quite across to the wharves and boat-houses on the other side, and felt the keen air, and heard the ring of the skaters' steel, and their shouts and 10 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. echoing laughter. Now, although it was ac- tually the first of March, and time for sun- nier skies and balmier "winds, there was not a boy in Mr. Winterhalter's school, or Pro- fessor Roth's, as for that matter, who did not rejoice at the sudden cold snap which this first spring month brought. There had been a great dearth of skating all winter, " not enough to keep our skates bright," Tom Fowler said, and now that it had actually come, real, genuine skating, there was great excitement and much joy about the matter. So, on this clear, calm, brilliant night, Mr. Wintei halter's boys and the Professor's were all on the river, and a merry time of it they were having. There were the under and upper classes, and boys of all sizes, from Forrest, the head-boy of the Professor's school, down to little Ned Rogers, the smallest boy in Mr. Winterhal- ter's establishment, and who was generally ON THE ICE. 11 under everybody's feet, and being knocked down and picked up continually. Now, if you havejiot a poor memory, you will remember that Gilbert Starr had been deprived of the captaincy of the Boat Club, and had been " cut " by all his friends and comrades, save Ray Hunter and Perry Kent, for doing what he thought to be his duty. You will remember, too, that though his old comrades and friends, who had been under his command, discovered he was not a sham like some of themselves, but honest and manly and true, yet they were too proud and stub- born to acknowledge this, and passed Gilbert by in all their plans, and would have nothing to do with him. The winter had worn thus far away, and, so far as Gilbert and his men were concerned, matters had not mended a bit. They never spoke to him, nor took the slightest heed of his going or coming; and though they did secretly admire and respect 12 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. him very much', they allowed nothing of this to be seen, and followed the instructions of their new captain, Philip Gates, very obedi- ently, considering what an overbearing fel- low Gates was. Captain Philip was very bitter toward Gilbert for many reasons. In the first place, Gilbert was still head-boy, and kept to his books so faithfully that Gates, who cared little for study, could not displace him and take the position himself. In the second place, he knew that Gilbert stood a long way above him, so far as manliness and courage and honesty were concerned, and he knew that his own men knew it ; and when a person is conscious of this superiority in one whom he has wronged, the knowledge is apt to make him very bitter and jeal- ous and vengeful. At least this was the case with Gates, and it caused him to be- have toward Gilbert in a manner very shame- ful for a boy who made any- pretence to ON THE ICE. 13 honor or honesty. He -slandered his rival, he told many falsehood^ abouf him to his class, in order to keep them as much estranged from Gilbert as possible, and he was not at all above annoying the ex-captain with mean and petty tricks. Ray Hunter, Gilbert's faithful friend, had partly rebelled from Gates's authority, and no one was quite sure whether he belonged to the Boat Club or not. And thus matters stood on this starry winter night, when they were ah 1 gathered on the river. It was a most perfect night for skating, very keen and biting, it was true, but with- out a breath of wind. In the middle of the river they had a great bonfire, that sent broad pathways of light far up and down the ice ; and besides the school-boys, there were plenty of the Rainford town-people out to see and e^ijoy the sport. Colored lanterns gleamed and flickered all 14 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. along the river-side,^ind shot and zig-zagged across the ice, suspended from some skater's arm, and what with their gay gleaming, and the merry, boisterous groups of skaters, and the roaring and crackling of the fire that floated red sparks up into the night, the scene was as bright and vivid as heart could wish. Now Captain Philip Gates was ex- ceedingly self-satisfied and light of heart this evening, being a very good skater, and hav- ing already beaten several of his men in racing. He was very anxious to have a race between his men and Captain Forrest's, of the Professor's school. He flew about from one place to another, getting his men to- gether, and talking with Forrest's about the matter. Of course they were ready enough for the trial of speed, and soon both of the clubs were around the fire, clamoring and discussing the point of departure. But Cap- Forrest was absent, and as his men VX THE ICE. 15 thought they could do nothing without him, Gates started off ia search of him, after wait- ing impatiently some minutes for his arrival. After searching long and diligently among the crowd within light of the fire, Captain Gates decided that Forrest was not there, and began to cruise about along the river- side, where there were many solitary figures as well as gay skating parties. After pur- suing several fleeting figures, to find that tbey were quite other persons than Forrest, he gave up the search on Mr. Winterhalter's side of the river, and crossed over tg River- side. Here the river lay quite dark in the shadow of the great hill, and the skaters were few and far "between ; only now and then he stumbled upon some unfortunate individual, who was making a first attempt at skating, and preferred to hide his falls and clumsiness in the darkness, and speeding on, till he was half in despair of finding the object of his 16 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFOED. search, he came at last to where he caught the echo of two pairs of skates a long way before him, neither of^them moving very faSt, but smoothly and glibly, as if their owners' found it the easiest thing in the world to do. " One of those pairs of feet belong to Forrest," thought Gates, increasing his speed, " but whose can the other be ? " The skaters changed their course a little after that, and turned toward the opposite bank of the river, and as they moved only leisurely, Gates 'was soon near them. On they mgyed, across the wide path of light which the bonfire cast up the river, and then Gates discovered, with a thrill of chagrin and disappointment, that Forrest's compan- ion was Gilbert Starr. " Pshaw!" he ex- claimed angrily, " what are he and Forrest together for, and at the very moment when I don't want Starr around?" He slackened Ms pace, considering how he should call For- OX THE ICE. 17 rest away ; and then, fearful that he should lose sight of them altogether among the merry crowd which was setting that way, lie came up behind them as noiselessly as possible, just in time to hear Forrest say, as he put his hand on Gilbert's shoulder, " We were talking about the fight, you know ; or rather about how we tried to fight, and Perry Kent brought Mr. Winterhalter down upon us. I've laughed about that af- fair a hundred times since ! I don't know but it was the best thing that could have happened, for it made us friends^you see, and that's a great deal, /think." " I was very hot and quick, that time," said Gilbert, as they glided along, " and I really didn't treat Mr. Prescott civilly. But I apologized ; I asked "his forgiveness ! " " Trust you for that ! " said Forrest ; " but I was thinking what a droll affair the whole of it was ; and looking back I think, well. I think 18 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFOED. I admire 3^011 more and more every day for the stand you took against what you thought was wrong. I only wish / could hare done it ! Though/' added Forrest, " I don't tbinfc I ever could give up my captainship, espe- cially if I knew such a fellow as that Gates was to take my place." Captain Philip fell back a little at hearing this, biting his lips very hard, yet keeping near enough to hear Gilbert answer, ' ( Well, I did find it hard, very hard ; but I came through it; and as for Gates, well, I've nothing t<^say about Gates, anyway." " Nothing to say about me, eh ! " said Cap- tain Philip to himself, as he stealthily fol- lowed. " Oh, you confounded Gilbert Starr ! Oh ! you hateful scamp ! I wish the ice would open and let you in, confound you ! ' But the ice did not open, and the two figures before him glided smoothly on, and Gates followed them in their windings among the ON THE ICE. 19 crowd, prevented, now, however, from hear- ing what they were talking about ; and pret- ty quick one of Forrest's men spied his cap- tain, as the two drew near the fire. " Here, Captain ! " he cried out, " we want you ! Gates is looking everywhere for you, and we want to race. Where have you been?" "Taking a turn or two on our side of the river," said Forrest; "and if you want to race, go ahead. I don't object, I'm sure." " But we want you to head us," said his men, gathering about him. " Gates is going to lead his men, and we want you to lead us." Just then Captain Gates came sailing up to the group, saying, very innocently, " Oh, here you are, Forrest ! I've been looking everywhere for you. AVhat do you say to the race ? " " I don't object," said Forrest, rather cold- ly, leaning one arm upon Gilbert's shoulder. 20 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. " Then let's get at it, right off," said Gates, briskly, while he looked at his watch ; "it's half-past eight, already, and we'll have to go in at nine, I suppose." " Yes, nine to a minute, Winterhalter said," said Tom Fowler. Forrest's men began to clamor around him, threatening that they would not race unless he headed them. " Very well," said he, at last ; " I'll go, just to please you. Scatter ! " Then he turned to Gilbert. " It's a shame," he said, indignantly; ".you're shut out of ev- ery thing. I've a good mind to stay with you, and not go a step 1 " " Oh, no ! " said Gilbert ; " I don't mind, that is, not much. I'm getting used to it, you see." Forrest shook his head. " A fellow can't do that, not entirely," he said ; " but you're made of different stuff than I, somehow. You don't mind what would kill me. But OX THE ICE. 21 they're calling, and I must go. Good-night, Starr, if I don't see you again/' he called back over his shoulder, as he glided off to his men. Gilbert stood by the fire, and watched them all go scurrying down the river into the darkness, thinking that Forrest was a very good-hearted fellow indeed, and feeling very glad of his friendship. " And," he thought to himself, " it was only such a very little while ago that we were under the Rain- ford bridge fighting for the honor of our schools ! What days those were ! " They seemed a long way off, somehow, after all ; so much had happened between those days and these. " All this long winter," he said to himself, " my men have hated me and shunned me, and oh ! I wonder if all this is never going to end ? Mrs. Winterhal- * ter says, ' Yes ! ' but the end is a dreadfully long time coming. I'm to leave school next 22 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAIXFORD. fall, and though I don't care so much about the captaincy, I wouldn't like to leave with the fellows all hating me. I'd like to be friends with 'em, anyhow." Some one came gliding around the fire, and thrust his hands into Gilbert's. It AV.H his protege, Perry Kent. " Well," said Gil- bert, his face brightening at the sight of the boy, " have you skated enough for one night ? " " Not half," said Perry ; " and I wish you'd come down the river a bit with me. It's as smooth as glass down there, and Ray and all the rest are down there racing." " What's that to me ? " said Gilbert, a little ' bitterly, " since there's not one of 'em that cares where I am. But, pshaw ! " he quickly added, " I believe I'm getting blue and gloomy. I'll go ! Come, Perry ! " and taking the boy's hands, he sped aw:ry back- ward, drawing his protege swiftly after him. v THE ICE. 23 They went like the wind. The fire shrank away behind them into the distance, till it looked like a round fiery eye. Gilbert whirled away towards the Riverside shore, where the ice was silent and deserted. Some- times, above the ringing of their own steel, they caught the echo of the boys' shouts far below. Releasing Perry, he spun round and round in dizzy circles, still bearing down- ward all|he time, and suddenly, before there was a breath in which to think of danger, Gilbert went through with a great crash, and the little boy was standing there alone. Terror and dismay froze the cry for help that was on his lips. He looked up at the great red eye gleaming down the river-way, with a vague consciousness that there lay help ami succor. But still he did not cry out, nor stir from the spot where he had stopped. There came to his ears a 24 THE LAST SUMMER ff RAINFOED. sound of crashing and crackling of brittle fragments from the darkness, a little way to his right, and the sound brought suddenly back his senses, and a warm thrill ran through every vein of his body, and before another minute had elapsed, he was at the edge of the great yawning hole in the ice, crying, "Gilbert! Gilbert!" " Yes," said Gilbert from out the darkness, and Perry could hear him clutlfe at the edges of the ice, and hear the fearful sound of the brittle fragments crumbling and giv- ing away. " Oh, Gilbert ! " cried the boy, " what snail I do?" It seemed a fearful length of time before Gilbert answered, though in reality it was only a few seconds, and then he only said, " I don't know. It's a long way to to help!" Perry, looked up to where the fire shone, ON THE ICE. 25 and realized this with a shiver of anguish. If he went so far for help, he was terribly afraid that Gilbert would not be there when he returned. He did not ask Gilbert's ad- vice again, but groped his way around the yawning hole to the point which he fancied was nearest him. And before Gilbert sus- pected Perry's intention, he suddenly felt the boy's hands upon his shoulders, clasping him with all the strength of which they were ca- pable. " Til never let go ! I'll never let go ! " Perry cried with a trembling voice ; " but 0, Gilbert, tell me what to do ! " In spite of his peril, and the awful cold that was numbing him, Gilbert's old fore- thought and regard did not desert him. " Xo, Perry ! " he said bravely, drawing himself back as much as he dared, " let go of me ! let go of me, I tell you ! You'll only get yourself in." 26 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. Perry did let go, but it was only to get a fresh hold, and to twist his stout woollen tip- pet under Gilbert's arms. Then Gilbert felt him pulling back with all his strength, though the ice cracked and trembled warningly. " Stop ! " Gilbert commanded ; " stop ! " But Perry took not the least heed of his injunctions, and fairly kept his friend afloat, while he shouted lustily. But who would mind a shout, when shouts and cries were echoing from all directions ? The little boy's heart began to sink. It seemed as if his friend was sinking deeper and deeper. " 0, Gilbert ! " said he, tremulously, "just speak to me." Gilbert managed to chatter, "K-keep up g-g-good courage," but there was something in his tone that made Perry's heart sink yet lower, for it seemed just as if Gilbert had lost his courage. Then Gilbert spoke once more, brave and kind to the last. OX THE ICE. 27 " Perry," he said, " you you're slipping n-n-nearer and nearer. Let go of me ! " " No ! no !'" said Perry, frantically, " never, Gilbert ! " The boy laid his ear to the ice, listened breathlessly, and waited. Such long, fearful seconds ! with Gilbert in the very grasp of Death ! oh, so long ! so long ! But then it came the sound for which he was listening and in a second more he was sure of it, for their lanterns began to flare and flicker along the ice-path, and their shouts rang up the river, and the racers were returning. Something choked so in Perry's throat, that he could not speak for a moment, then he cried, " Hold on ! holdfcn a little longer, Gilbert ! Help is coming it's right here and it's Ray, and Forrest and all of them ! Hold on to me, Gilbert ! hold on ! " Up the river swept the skaters, joyously and boisterously. CHAPTER II. A LITTLE BOY'S COURAGE. T)UT now a new fear took possession of *-' Perry's heart. He began to irernble lest the flying racers should pass by without heeding or noticing Gilbert's peril. They were coming at such speed, that he knew they would flash by in a twinkling, and if once they passed, all hope was gone. So he be- gan to cry for help at the top of his voice, shouting and screaming, jyid bidding Gilbert keep up good courage between his cries, and up caine the racers, their lanterns flaring great rays of light up and down and across the river, and one of them fell upon Gilbert's 28 A LITTLE BOY'S COURAGE. 29 white face. There was a look upon it that made Perry redouble his cries, and exclaim, " 0, Gilbert ! just one minute more ! only a minute ! " But in less than that time the skaters were abreast of them they were almost past when suddenly one who bore a light swerved out from the line, and giving a cry darted toward the spot where Perry was waiting in such trembling anxiety. Two or three of the skatersTollowed to see -^hat was the matter, and the remainder swept on up the river, like the wind. It was Ray Hunter who heard Perry's cry from out the darkness, and it was Captain Forrest and one of his men who followed. The lantern-light showed -them what had happened before they could reach the edge of the air-hole into which Gilbert had fallen, and giving a great cry, Ray pressed forward with such headlong speed, that he came near going in, too. 30 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAIXFORD. "0, Gilbert!" he exclaimed, "catch hold ( of me quick ! I can keep you up ! Catch hold of me quick ! quick ! " But Gilbert was too thoroughly benumbed for that, which Ray perceived and caught his friend by the shoulder, while Forrest, with a very white face, got down beside him, and the two tried to pull Gilbert out. But the ice cracked and crumbled, and both came near pitching in headlong. Then Forrest darted al^ay, saying, " Hold him for a min- ute, Hunter, till I item get a rail," and with that he vanished in the darkness. Ray bent over Gilbert, clutching him firm- ly, and whispering, " 0, Gilbert ! don't give up ! don't think of it ! I've got you, and you can't go under. ! how did you get in this fix, old fellow, and how long have you been here ? " But Gilbert's teeth chattered so, that he did not attempt to answer, and Ray's heart seemed almost to stop its beating, Forrest A LITTLE BOT'3 COURAGE. 31 was gone so long! But he came in a few- seconds after, dragging his burden behind him, and Ray said, " God bless you, Forrest, but hurry ! hurry ! " There was no need of telling Forrest that. He pushed the rail across the gap, letting its ends rest on the firm and solid ice. Then he got astride of it, his feet thrust down into the water beside Gilbert's, and putting his arms under Gilbert's own, drew him up as far as his strength would allow, and here Ray and Forrest's man got hold, and all together they drew Gilbert out on to the unyielding ice. " There ! " said Forrest : " and now lean upon me, Starr, for you're too cold to ' stand alone. Don't mind, for I can bear you up ; " and to prove it, he fairly lifted Gilbert off the ice. Ray was down upon his knees, and had his friend's skates off in a twinklu^. " Now," said he, " we must start for home 32 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. in an instant ! Can you ever stand it to get there, old fellow? Forrest, you shall take one shoulder, and I the other, and, are you ready ? " Just then Gates and the rest came whirl- ing back down the river, to see what had taken Forrest and Ray, and this arrival hin- dered them a little, there were so many ques- tions to be answered. Now there was not one of Gilbert's old men but what longed to have a reconciliation then and there. Their old captain had but just escaped a cold, cruel death ; and there is something in the near approach of death and danger which is almost always sure to soften the stubbornest heart, and make it long for peace and reconciliation with its fellow man. There were none of Gilbert's men, but in whose hearts there was a desire to take their old captain's hand, tell him the^r were glad that he was safe, and help him up to the house. But Gates fell A LITTLE BOY'S COURAGE. 33 back as soon as lie had made out all about the a flair, and called liis men to conie away. They lingered, wavered, but finally obeyed. " Oh," said Forrest, his voice full of scorn and indignation, "Pin glad that I haven't such a set of fellows under me.! I'd choose to run away from them if I had. Here, Fred and Wayne and Frank,'' he called to his men, " come and give us a hand, for the captain is fairly faint with cold. Come, all of you, and put those fellows to shame ! " They came, Forrest's whole command, and taking Gilbert carried him quickly toward home. They did not "follow the river up, but struck across the snowy meadows in a direct line for Mr. Winter- halter's, and there were so many of them to help, that Gilbert was no burden at all. But, if you are a boy and have at all the same sensibilities that Gilbert had, you will know what a hard thing for him it was to 34 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFORD. be carried home by his old rival's men, while those who were rightly his own hung back, and did not seem to care that even his life had been saved. He said not a word till he found himself in the warm hall leading to the schoolroom, with Forrest and all his men about him, and Mrs. Winter- halter looking at him with a very frightened face. " Why, Gilbert, what have you been about ? " said she ; " wet to the skin, and your clothes half-frozen to you ! " " I 've been in the river," he chattered, " and I should have drowned but for Perry Kent." " Perry Kent ! " said Forrest ; " where is he?" Then there was a great search for Perry, who was at last found in the shadow of the doorway and brought forward to receive the praise and thanks which Ray and Forrest A LITTLE BOY'S COURAGE. 35 and Mrs. TVinterhalter and everybody were ready to shower upon him. Forrest called him a little hero, which was great praiso in the eyes of the rest of the boys, who looked upon Forrest always with envy and admiration, and Ray said, taking Perry's hand before them all, "I thought you hadn't much courage, but I take all that back. There's more to you than I thought, and you can't know how much I thank you. Thanks! why, thanks are just nothing to what I want to say ! " and so he left every- thing else that he thought unsaid, and went up stairs with Gilbert. Mrs. Winterhaltor pressed a great many thanks upon Forrest, and said, among other things, " I'm very glad indeed, that there's such good feeling between you and our head-boy. It's not much like the feeling that was between you two last summer, my dear?" 36 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. Forrest colored a little, bnt answered promptly, " No ma'ain ! but Gilbert and I are good friends now; I don't believe we could be better, and I admire liim very mucli : and I" do wish he could be captain again instead of that , excuse me*, Mrs. Winterhalter, but I don't like Gates ! " Mrs. Winterhalter smiled a little, but did not say whether that was her opinion, or no ; only, " I tell Gilbert that that will all come right by-and-by, and I think he thinks so, too. Do you know," she said, laying her hand lightly on Forrest's shoulder, " that I think it often does a boy a great deal of good to go through such a trial as Gilbert is going through." " It is very disagreeable, and very bother- some," said Forrest, " and I think I should break down under it, Mrs. Winterhalter." " No, no," said she, brightly, " I hope not. But I think, and perhaps you've noticed it, A LITTLE BOY'S COURAGE. 37 that Gilbert- is much firmer and stronger for the right than he used to be, without losing the brightness and gayety that are so natural to him, too, which is a great deal. And if he can only persevere to the end I have great hopes for him." " He will ! you may he sure of that ! " said Forrest, quickly ; " I never saw such a fellow to persevere, no matter what any one thinks or says of him. But if you'll let me, I'd like to just run up and say good-night, for I must go back right away. The Pro- fessor'll scold me finely now, I expect." Mrs. Winterhalter gave him permission, adding, "The Professor will not be very angry when he sees those drenched boots and knows what you have been about." The nine o'clock bell tinkled just as For- rest ran up stairs. " Whew ! " he said to himself, " here it's nine o'clock and I ought to be in my own bed across the river. But 38 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. it's not every night that a fellow comes near being drowned, as Starr has, and I guess tho Professor'll excuse me. At any rate, I'll see him a minute." He had been in the Boat Club's room once before, and so knew the way, and presently Ray was startled a little by seeing him enter. " You, Forrest? " he exclaimed ; " why, I . thought you'd gone long ago." " So do mytnen, I suppose, but that good Mrs. Winterhalter had a word to say to me, and I wanted to see Starr comfortable, and here I am! How are you, old fellow?" he asked, sitting down on the bed by Gilbert. Gilbert still shivered and chattered in spite of the load of blankets that was on him, but was , very grateful for Forrest's attention, and told him so. " Pshaw ! " said the Professor's head-boy, " it's nothing. You'd have done the same for me if I had chanced to need it, and a great deal more, I dare say. I know you." A LITTLE BOY'S COUKAGE. 39 " It was such a narrow escape ! " said Ray, shuddering ; " if Gilbert had been alono we never should have found him." " We were not any to soon as it was," said Forrest ; " however, a miss is as good as a mile, they say though I'd rather have the mile and I hope we'U see you out on the river in a* night or two, Starr." Gilbert did not make much of a reply, and just then Gates and his men came clattering up stairs to bed, and Forrest got up hastily, saying, " There come all the fellows, and I'll be going. I hate that Gates, by the way. And good-night, Gilbert," coming back to shake the ex-captain's hand ; and then he bent over and whispered, so that Ray might not hear, " Do you know I'd like to do as you have' done, as you are doing, my dear fellow ! Will you help me ? " and without waiting for an answer, or to see how Gilbert received it, he hurried away, meeting all 40 THE LAST- SUMMER AT R^TXFORD. the Boat Club at the door. Their faces showed how surprised they were at seeing him there, and at that time of night, but Forrest paid them very little attention and passed on his homeward way. The boys went to bed, stealing many glances at the. bed where Gilbert lay, and longing, every one of them, in their secret hearts, to go and shake his hand and ask him how*he did, of course excepting Gates. Then the room began to grow still and quiet, as the remainder of the house had long been. Only Ray was up, waiting to see whether Gilbert was going to get warm or not. And presently he said, after he was sure the boys were all asleep, "Isn't he a nice fellow ? Forrest, 1 mean." "Yes," said Gilbert in a very grateful tone, " he's very good indeed to me, and I like him very much." " And think of Perry Kent ! Why, you A LITTLE BOY'S COURAGE. 41 know I always thought him weak and baby- ish, for all you said that there was the real grit in him. Now he's proved himself, and I'm glad of it for his own sake as well as yours. I think he'll rise a long way in the boys' opinion." " Yes," s*aid Gilbert, " and I never shall forget how his face looked for those few minutes before you came in sight. The fire way up the river shone on it a little, just enough for me to see. Well," he added, drawing a long breath of content, " it's a great deal to have such friends as I have got, and, Ray, what's the captainship after all ? I really don't envy the present captain the least bit, though Forrest always seem to think that I'm suffering and miserable about it. I'll go on and wait ; and if the right time ever comes, well, there'll be time enough to think about it then. And don't keep your eyes open any longer for me, Ray, 42 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. but come to bed, for I'm getting warm as a toast." Ray complied, and then the last lamp in the house was out, silence and peace settled down, and the long evening was ended CHAPTER III. PLOTTING. 4 pILBERT STARR soon recovered from ^-* the effects of his plunge in the river, though not in time to enjoy the skating, for in a day or two the weather changed and began to hint in earnest of spring. There came days of warm rain and mist, and the river began to peer through the ice in long slender strips of dark water, and at last the icy floor which had given the boys so much delight, broke up, and went heaving and tearing down to the sea. And now that skating was really ended, and there was no prospect of more winter sports, Mr. Winterhalter's boys began to 43 44 THE LAST SUMMER* AT RAIXFOED. think in earnest about examination, which was only a little way off. Some of the more studious had been preparing for^t a great while, but the great mass of boys had been looking forward to the inevitable event with a certain dread and dislike, and now that the time was drawing near, took their books and settled down to hard study with many sighs and lamentations over the hardships of a schoolboy's life. Of course they all expected that Gilbert Starr would keep the head-boy's place, and no one had any intention of trying for that position. Gilbert had filled it from the very first day that he became a member of the first class, and had held the place so long that no one thought of trying to oust him from it. In fact no one even among his enemies, with the exception of Gates wished for a change ; and Gate's wished for no change, unless he could slip into the position himself. PLOTTING. 45 Now, as the days wore toward examina- tion, Captain PhiJip began to think very deeply about the matter. It vexed him to think that, though Gilbert had lost the cap- taincy, he still outranked himself in virtue of being head-boy of the school ; and though this high position did not give Gilbert much honor or pleasure, because all the boys had been turned against him, yet Gates longed for the place, and was vexed and irritated because there was no present prospect of getting it. " "Why," he thought to himself, sitting by the window in the Boat Club's room one misty morning, " if I were head- > boy and captain both, I should pretty much rule the school. Why, when I first came here, Gilbert Starr was looked up to as if he were a prince of the royal blood, and nobody thought of doing anything he objected to. But I spoiled that for him," Gates thought with a little malicious laugh, "and I don't 46 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. think he'll ever got back to where he was before, not while I'm in the school, at any rate. But if he weren't head-boy if I could only get the place then he would be down entirely, and I sho*uld be at the top. I wish I knew how to do it ! " It was not an easy place to win, because it was only to be gained by hard study, and Gates was not particularly fond of such labor. And even if he was, there were Ray Hunter, Albert Turner and Barry White, who ranked above himself, and who would all have to be overcome. It seemed quite an impossibility, the whole of it, but Gates i was loth to give up all hope, and sat long by the window trying to devise some plan by which he might obtain the position of head-boy. Pretty soon Albert Turner came in, and he was just the person whom Gates wished to see. " Sit down," said he, " for I want PLOTTING. 47 to talk about the examination. Now who'll come out first in the struggle ? " " Gilbert Starr, of course," said Turner ; " I thought you knew that." " Well, but is there no way by which some one else can get his position ? " ll yes, said Albert Turner, a little spite- fully, " very easily. All one has got to do to get it is to study every night till twelve o'clock, review all that we've been over for the past year, besides getting the lessons that are given out every day ; then one will probably stand just about where Gilbert Starr stands, that is, if they are as smart ; and all that's then necessary to secure the place is to know enough more than he does to come out best in the examination. I think it's very, very easy ; don't you ? " " Pshaw ! " said Captain Philip, angrily, " I'm in earnest about it, and I don't want to hear your nonsense." 48 THE LAST SUMMER AT BAIXFORD. " Nonsense or not," said Albert, " it's the truth." " But Starr doesn't study like that," said Gates, " for he's always in bed when the rest of us are, and " " Well, of course he is," said Turner ; " I was only telling you what one would have to do to catch up with him." " And I don't believe he ever reviews," said the sceptical captain. " There's where you don't know what you're talking about," said Albert; " Starr has got all the hard points and all the difficult solutions noted down he did it as fast as he went along and now all he has to do is to refer to his papers, instead of rummaging all his books over as the rest of us do. That's half the battle for him. I wish I'd done the same, but it's too late wishing, now." Ga^es's face grew very bright. " How do PLOTTING. 49 you know this is so, about Starr's pa- pers?" he asked. " Because that used to be his way of doing when I was secretary of the club under him, and I had a chance to know 5 and I've heard Ray Hunter say the same thing within a week. But Starr does his work more thoroughly than he used to when he was Captain, because he has more time, I suppose." A silence fell upon them, in which Turner picked up a book and began to study. At last Gates said, " I'd like to be head-boy very much." " How strange ! " said Turner, without looking off his book. "But I don't see much hope of getting the place," continued Gates, " unless " "Unless what?" interrupted Turner, smil- ing at the idea that there was any probabili- ty of Captain Philip's success. 50 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. " Unless," said Gates slowly, and without looking at his companion, " I could get those papers of Gilbert Starr's." Albert Turner's face grew very red quite suddenly, and as there was no apparent cause for any such change of countenance, you may as well know that Gates had un- consciously hit upon a plan which had been secretly harbored in Albert's own heart. " I declare ! " said Captain Philip-, looking keenly into his companion's face, " I shouldn't wonder if you had thought of the same thing yourself." " Stop ! " said Turner, with a great show of indignation ; '' you've no right -to talk to me like that ! Do you know that if you were found out in such a thing you'd be dis- graced and sent out of school ? " "Of course, so do you. But I should look out for that matter. I'd go to work right, in the first place. I'd make friends of PLOTTING. 51 all the Boat Club about the matter, and trust to their honor. Then Gilbert Starr might whistle for his papers, for who could prove anything?" " How do you know you could make friends of us all ? " said Turner, coldly. " Pshaw ! " said Gates, getting up and sit- ting down close to his companion, " don't try to humbug me. I know well enough that you'd all like to see Gilbert Starr brought down." " He's been brought down," said Turner, trying to keep up an innocent appearance ; " why should I want him brought any lower ? " " Nonsense ! " said Captain Philip, " you're only wasting breath. Do you suppose 7 don't know you ? and the rest of the fellows, too ? What did you pull Starr down for, if it was not because you hated him ? Tell me that ! And .why have you all cut him ? 52 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFORD. And but pshaw ! it's only a waste of breath to talk about it. You'd all like to see Starr lose his position, and you can have the chance if you like. What do you say ? " Now Albert Turner was not accustomed to this bold manner of talking about wicked and dishonorable plans, and he hardly knew what to say at first. But he was not an honorable boy, as you well remember from some events of the preceding summer, and as you will quickly perceive from the fact that he was not averse to listening to Gates's plan, and had even thought of it before the captain himself; and so he dallied with the temptation, pretending to hate it, yet encour- aging the plan little by little, bringing all sorts of objections and scruples against it, while he was secretly intending to give aid to it, and at last, when Captain Philip had lost his patience and declared "You're a confounded old hypocrite, Turner!" he PLOTTING. 53 came out plumply, and said, " Yes, I agree to. the plan." "Of course you do,' 7 grumbled* Gates, " and you might have said so without going such a long way round. I wonder if you think it's any better to sneak around for half an hour with your scruples, when you're all the time intending to give them up ? " Did you ever think which is worse : a boy who goes to work to do evil, making no pretence to goodness or honesty, or one who goes to work to compass the same evil end, and covers his intentions with a fair outside and a great pretence to virtue, while all the time the wickedness is working under the mask? " Well," said Gates, after Albert Turner's decision had been made, " who shall do the difficult part of the plan? taking the papers, I mean." " You, of course," said Turner, getting up to go away. 54: THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFORD. But Gates pulled him back. " Wait," said he, " for I haven't got half through with } T ou. If I nave to do that part of the job, of course I'm to have the position to pay for it." " Oh, ho ! " said Albert, indignantly ; " I'm to do all this to boost you into Gilbert's place, eh ? and I may take a place under you after that, eh ? Gates, did you ever hear of the monkey that used a cat's paws to get his chestnuts off the stove, and so kept his own from being burned ? " "I dare say I have," said Gates; "and what of it?" " I'm not your cat, you see, that's all." " Very well," said Captain Philip, as if he were not at all displeased, " you. may take the papers, and I'll stand down ; that's fair, isn't it ? " Albert did not immediately reply. He had ^ hardly sufficient courage to spy where Gilbert kept the coveted papers, and commit PLOTTING. 55 a deliberate theft in taking them. He was not as hardened as Gates, and the thought of being the actual thief in the' plot made him shiver and tremble. He was suddenly' very sorry that he had conspired with the captain. He looked up. " Gates/' said he, suddenly, and speaking sincerely this time at least, e< what a hard fellow you are ! " Captain Philip opened his eyes very wide at this, saying, " What's that to do with your decision ? " u Nothing, perhaps," Albert replied ; " but but you*may take the papers and have the head-boy's place if you can -get it." " Oh, don't be so polite," said Gates, laugh- ing ; " pray don't sacrifice all your plans on my account ! " But his companion turned to the window without a word, and looked out at the gray mist that lay over the land and hid the river. The first steps in a boy's downward 56 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. course are very easy to take, and he may not even know when he first turns his feet into the evil path. It had been so with Albert Turner. First, his straying from what was good and upright was so slight that he thought nothing of it, and it did not disturb him. He had gone down very slow- ly and gradually erring in what seemed to him very little matters till now it had come to this. He was not much given to reflection nor to regretting the past, but now, as he stood looking out upon the gloomy day, some very vivid remembrhces of last summer's happy days came to him. What long and happy days they were ! There was no Gates present with plots and trou- bling secrets ; no discord nor enmity in the whole first class, and they were all ver- happy and contented with Gilbert for cap- tain, and Gilbert to look up to and depend upon in all emergencies. He could not re- PLOTTING. 57 member one day during the long winter that had held so much genuine joy and content as an hour of that past summer. Now, there were wrangles, and everything and every- body were very disagreeable, he thought ; and altogether school was nothing at all the pleasant place it used to be. " However," he thought, " there's no use in getting blue over it. I'm in the fix and can't help myself." And with that he turned around, saying, " Gates, if you're to have the honor, to pay for your thieving, you'll have to break the plan to the rest. I'm not going to do it." " Oh, trust me for that," said Gates, very pleasantly. " 111 manage that nicely, and just you see what a fluttering there is in the nest, some of these mornings,, when Starr misses his papers ! " Albert Turner went down stairs very much disgusted with the captain, the plot, 58 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. and himself in particular. But do you think that he was powerless to help himself out of the " fix," as he styled it ? to tear himself away from Gates and his evil ? Now that Captain Philip had got the plan arranged to his mind, he went straightway at work to carry it out. He was cautious, at first, only dropping such hints now and then among his men as "I say, Bob, wouldn't it be nice for me to beat Gil Starr out and out at the examination ? " or, " What would you say, boys, if I got the head-boy's place for next term ? " Once, Tom Fowler answered this last ques- tion in his usual blunt way, by saying, " What would we say ? why, we should most of us say that it was a dreadful misfortune for the school." " Pshaw ! " said the angry captain, " I won't bear your nonsense. But do you know I'm in earnest about it ? " PLOTTING. 59 In this manner, and by keeping the sub- ject continually before the boys, Gates brought them, to understand, without having said so much in words, that they need not be surprised to see Gilbert Starr lose his- rank in some mysterious manner at the coming examination. " If there's any trick about it and you may be sure there is if Gates has anything to do with it I say it's a confounded shame ! " said Tom ; " however, it's none of my bread and butter. We all cut loose from Gilbert long ago, and I suppose it won't do to tattle." Boys are not usually very vehement for the right ; and the boys of the Boat Club were like all others. If one of their number had had the courage and zeal to make a stand against their captain's machinations, they would all have followed this one, and Gates and his evil would have been over- 60 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. thrown. But as it was, no one stirred about the matter, assuring themselves that it was no affair of theirs, and Captain Philip met no opposition and found no obstacle in his way. So it came about that one night, after all the rest were asleep, the plotting captain removed Gilbert's precious packet from the little table by his bedside, and took it to a hiding place of his own. And only Albert Turner knew where it was concealed, Gates being quite too wise to entrust the secret to more than one beside himself. CHAPTER IV. GILBERT'S DISMAY. GATES removed Gilbert's packet -*- of papers on Saturday night. As the next day was Sunday, of course they were not missed ; and it was not until Monday morning, about an hour before recitations, that Gilbert ran up to his room- after them. He was in a great hurry, having been de- tained past his usual study-hour, and was was much astonished not to say vexed to find his packet gone. " Where could I have put it ? " he said, standing by the little table at the head of his bed and gazing won- deringly at the place where he was sure it had lain on the previous Saturday night. 61 62 TEE LAST SUMMER AT EAIXFORD. Then he searched in the little drawer under- neath the table, but there was nothing there but' two or three torn leaves of school-books and some old letters of Ray's. " Well, this is curious ! " he thought to himself; " I won- der if I'm getting so absent-minded that I don't know where I leave my papers ? " He opened his trunk and searched among the clothing there, simply because he could not think of any other place to search, and knowing well enough that it was not there. He closed the lid with a very puzzled face. There was no other hiding-place for the packet amongst his things, and consequently no where else to look. Remembering that it was already past time for him to be at work upon his lessons, he grew more and more impatient. Ray's papers and his own were all together, and suddenly thinking that there* was a possibility that his packet might be hidden among them, Gilbert hastily got up GILBERT'S DISMAY. 63 and looked them all over one by one, but with no better success. Then he discovered that Gates was sitting in a far corner of the room, very busily studying his lesson ; but failed to see that whenever his own face was turned in another direction Gates's was very busily studying him. Gilbert sat down and thought about the matter for five minutes. But the mystery was as great as ever at the end of that time, and gave no sign of ever becoming clearer. He got up and went to the table that stood between the next row of beds, and although it did not belong to him, took the liberty to look upon it. It was a right which the boys never disputed, and Gilbert's own table was very often searched by some meml^f of the class. But Gates left his corner and came down to where Gilbert stood, very savage and very important. " Look here," said he, for once deigning 6i THE LAST SUMMER AT RA1NFORD. to speak to Gilbert, " what right have you to be meddling with other people's tables ? " Gilbert took no more notice of him than if he had not spoken, and this inattention, you must know, was very aggravating to a fellow of such importance as Gates. He grew very red and angry. " Do you know," said he, laying a heavy hand on Gilbert's arm, " that I am captain of the Boat Club, and won't allow my men to be imposed upon by such as you ? " Valiant Captain Philip intended that this " you " should be very scornful and very insulting. Therefore it was not pleasant for him to have Gilbert shake his hand lightly off, and, while a faint smile curled up the corner oLhis mouth, proceed with his search as if he were entirely unaware that Gates was near. Then, finding that his packet was not there, Gilbert went back to his own table. But Gates's pride was too thoroughly GILBERT'S DISMAY. 65 wounded to allow him to give up the matter thus, and so he followed Gilbert, and thus did a very unwise thing. " Oh, you may please to be silent about it," said he, sneeringly, " but that won't do. I demand to know what you were overhaul ing my men's tables for 1 What right had you there ? " Gilbert took up a book and said nothing, though his hands twitched as if they longed to get Gates by the shoulders, and were only held back by a very strong effort. Very likely Gates did not know Gilbert as the rest did, having seen less of him during his short stay in the school than almost any other boy,. or he never would have gone to the length he did. Failing to make any impression by demands and threats, he taunted Gilbert with being a hypocrite ; adding "If I couldn't do better than you've done by turn- ing traitor to my company, and getting made 66 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFOED. over into such a milk-and-water affair as you are, I'd sell out my stock in trade and go into the milliner's bus " Suddenly, without having the remotest idea how it happened, Gates found himself a very awkward position indeed. His feet were on the floor, but his body was bent over the foot of one of the beds in an exceedingly uncomfortable manner, and Gil- bert's gray eyes were looking down upon him, full of fire and disgust. " You've given your opinion of me, free gratis," said he, holding Gates down, while his words came very slowly, he was so - angry, "'and now you shall have my opinion of yourself. I think if I had such a small, mean, contemptible nature as you've got, I'd I'd really, I can't think of any occif- pation that would be small enough for you. You could 'nt grasp the mysteries of the milliner's trade, and Oh, but I've good GILBERT'S DISMAY. 67 mind to strike you ! ; ' said Gilbert, abruptly, remembering, while the hot, passionate blood reddened" his face, certain insulting epithets which Gates had applied to him in times past. Somebody came running up stairs, three steps at a bound, and came along the hall, whistling and singing by turns, and pushed open the door. It was Eay Hunter, and he stopped short in the doorway, exclaiming, after a second's pause, " Good heavens ! Gilbert, what are you about ? " " I'm considering whether I'd better give this fellow a thrashing or not," said Gilbert, hotly, and without looking around ; " what do you advise ? " Ray made no reply at first. He would doubtless have rejoiced to see Gates thrashed, and would have liked to lent a hand, as for that matter ; but there was something else to be thought of. 68 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. Did you ever think what a great and important thing it is to be the friend of another? to be loved, trusted, confided in and leaned upon? Ray had never thought greatly of it before, but now it flashed upon him like a new revelation. Here was Gil- bert, who had lost his temper and was unable to judge as he ought ; and he had asked his advice. What should he tell him ? Every desire and inclination of his heart bade him say, " Yes ! thrash Gates ! " but this new sense of the importance of the decision made him remember it was for Gilbert's good, and not for his own gratifica- tion, that he was to advise. For once, at least, I think Ray was a model friend, for putting away all thoughts of his own gratifi- tion, and looking only for Gilbert's good, he came up to the opponents, and, laying his hand on Gilbert's shoulder, said " Gil, old fellow, I'd like you to thrash him very much, GILBERT'S DISMAY. 69 but you sec, I don't think it would be quite square with what you are trying to do for yourself making yourself a better fellow, you know and for that reason, though of course it makes no odds with me, I 1 well, I wouldn't thrash him, Gilbert." Gates was freed in an instant, and Gilbert turned around to Ray, grasping both his hands and saying, vehemently, " 0, Ray Hunter, what a friend you are to me ! " " There," said this friend of Gilbert's, pretending not to be affected by Gilbert's gratefulness, " don't say any more about such a little matter. I'll be in the same fix, likely enough, some time." Gilbert's face grew very sober when he turned back and looked at Gates, whose face was very crimson with mortified pride and smothered auger, and who was very busily dusting his jacket; and looking at him, Gil- bert had a struggle with himself. Whatever 70 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. the feeling was against which he was con- tending, he managed to conquer it at last, and went up to his enemy, holding out his hand. " Gates," said he, frankly, " I was very quick just now. I don't suppose we shall be very good friends, but I'd like to shake hands with you over it." Captain Philip withdrew his hand and frowned heavily. " I'll not shake hands ! " he muttered ; " this is not to be the end of the matter." " Why not ? " said Gilbert, pleasantly, and still extending his hand. "No; keep your hand to yourself!" said Gates, " for I'm not going to touch it." Then Gilbert withdrew his hand, and the captain picked his book from off the floor where it had fallen in the encounter, and went out without another word. "Now," said Ray, as the door closed, "how " I should like to shake hands with you over it. v Page 70. GILBERT'S DISMAY. 71 on earth came you and Gates to get into a squabble ? I thought he wouldn't speak to you." This question brought back to Gilbert the remembrance of his loss, which, in his trouble with Gates, he had entirely forgotten. And so without answering Ray's question, he asked one himself. "Oh,'' said he, "but -have you seen any thing of my papers ? the little packet that held all the reviews which we are to go over." " Nb," said Ray, " but it's on our table, of course ; and what has that to do with fight- ing Gates ? " " But it's not on our table," said Gilbert, " and I'm afraid it's gone entirely." " But you left it there ? " Yes." " Then some one has helped himself to it," said Ray ; " but, if you please, I'd like to trgw how you got into trouble with Gates." 72 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. " Oh," said Gilbert, " I was hunting for my papers and took the liberty to look on that table out yonder, Tom Fowler's, you know, and Gates came .down to interfere. But I didn't mind him at all, and I suppose that made him mad, for he followed me out here to my own table and got very insulting. And then I got mad. I'm very sorry for it. Gates isn't worth minding, and I oughtn't to have minded him. I'm glad I didn't thrash him, but I believe I should have done so if you hadn't put the right thought into my head just at that moment. Do you re- member that proverb in Bob Upham's old book 'A faithful friend is a strong de- fence ? ' Well, I believe it's true of my friend, anyhow ! " and Gilbert took Bay's hand and pressed it gratefully. All this made Ray very happy, but, like most boys, he was averse to showing the emotion, and so said, hastily, " But your GILBERT'S DISMAY. 73 papers ! the loss of those is more than all the rest. But they must be around some- where : I can't believe any of the fellows would be mean enough to take them ! " To satisfy himself, he got up and made a thorough search of the table, the drawer, as well as a hasty inspection of the other tables in the room. He came back to Gilbert, looking very blank. " You 're right," said he ; " the packet is gone." " And gone at a most unfortunate time, too," said Gilbert ; " it's only a little over a week and a half, you know, to examination day." " Sure enough ! " said Ray, with a start ; " and I'm not sure but that is the reason why it is gone. Just think, Gilbert ! if one were mean enough, one might take your papers and prevent you from keeping your head- boy's place ! " 7-i THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFOED. " I have thought of that," said* Gilbert, soberly. But it was a new thought for Ray, and kept him silent for nearly five minutes. At the end of that time he jumped up and exclaimed, tl The more I think of it, the surer I am that some one has been thieving ! Of course your papers didn't take wings there were so many monstrous heavy problems in them, that they couldn't fly if they tried and seriously, it looks like a plot to get you out of the head-boy's place ; and if it is a plot, there isn't but one fellow in school that's mean enough or wicked enough to serve you so, and that's the one who just went out this door ; and Gil, I wish you'd given him a good thrashing while it was so convenient ! " " Well," said Gilbert, after a long silence, " will you grant me a favor ? " " Yes ; it's granted already." GILBERT'S DISMAY. 75 ^ " Then please not to say a word aboift my loss till I give you permission." Ray's face fell. " Now ! " he exclaimed, " is that fair ? " " I think so. You see, there is not the slightest suspicion to put upon any one, and what would be the use of telling every one of my loss ? But if we are silent about it something may occur that will lead us the right way." Ray acquiesced. A week passed, however, without anything having occurred. The mystery remained the same, and there was no clue by which to unravel it, nor was there any definite suspicion to attach to any member of the class. Gilbert was somewhat dismayed at the prospect before him, examination day only half-a-week off, and no apparent hope that he should ever see his much-needed papers again, but still resolutely kept hia loss to himself, and waited. ,76 THE LAST SUMMEE AT RAINFOKD. Ray was much more anxious and indignant than his friend, and stormed and threatened the whole class with vengeance whenever Gilbert and he were alone. He came to his friend one night, begging to be released from the promise which he had given. " I was rash that time ! " he said, laughing ; "but were you quite fair? Now release me, and you'll never be sorry ! " " What are you going to do if I release you ? " Gilbert asked. Ray hesitated a while, but finally said, " Well, I'm going to carry the whole matter before Mr. Winterhalter. He's got power, and he can make the thief give up the plunder, or at least discover him. If I don't do so, you'll just say nothing and lose your rank without a word, and no one will ever know that you've been wronged. I won't have it so ! " said Ray, with energy, " and I want Gates, for I know he's the thief, brought to justice. Do you know? the GILBERT'S DISMAY. 77. sneaking fellow has told all the fellows that you knocked him down when* his back was turned toward you, and. that you did it out of spite and envy because he has your old rank. Of course I denied it ! and I told him to his face that he was a sneak, and I don't know but we should have had a fight right there in the hall, if Mr. Winterhalter hadn't happened to come in." But Gilbert held Ray to his promise, much to that young gentleman's indignation. " I wouldn't like," Gilbert said, to have the whole school turned into an uproar because my papers are missing. It would be a long and tedious job, and even if it was successful, it's too late to do any good." This was no consolation to Ray, however. CHAPTER Y. AN UNKNOWN FRIEND. A S the third day before examination came, ** Ray Hunter resolved that he would re- veal Gilbert's loss to Mr. Winterhalter, whether Gilbert gave him permission or not. " It's for Gilbert's good," he thought, " and what a shame 'twill Be to have him fail before all the people at examination, and to have everybody think that it was because he didn't study and work hard enough. Oh, that rascally Gates I I told Gilbert how t'would be the first day that Gates came here. I knew that they couldn't both rule, and Gates don't care how low be stoops if only he can rule ; but Gilbert can't be mean if he 78 AN UNKNOWN FRIEND. 79 tries, and so Captain Philip has the advan- tage of him; but I'd like to expose the rascal ! I'd just like Mr. Winterhalter and everybody to find out about him ! " But Ray had a lingering fear that Gil- bert would be very much displeased if the promise which he had given was not faithfully kept, and so all the third day before the coming event he was very anx- ious and undecided, and thought so much about the matter that his lessons suffered considerably. He came to a decision at last, by saying, " I'll wait till to-morrow morning, and if nothing happens before that time, I'll go to Mr. Winterhalter, anyhow. It's for Gilbert's good, and I can afford to bear his displeasure a while." Now this evening of the tj,iird day proved to be a rainy one. It was not a blustering night, but the rain poured steadily, without any lull or slacking, and the eaves kept up 80 THE LAST SUMMER AT BAINFORD. their heavy drip, drip, and the drops dashed against the panes, and altogether it was just such a night as one loves to spend before the fire, listening to the down-pour without. So, though every one ought to have been busy with his books in preparation for what the next day but one was to bring, Mr. Winterhalter's boys were gathered in the school-room, chatting, telling stories, and making as merry as they might. The lamp- light was not so bright but that the room was pleasantly dim, and they had gathered together as inclination prompted, here a little group withdrawn to hear some wonder- ful tale, and -there a boisterous crowd of twenty or thirty who welcomed every addi- tion to their number, and seemed to think they could not be too numerous or too noisy. But Gilbert Starr, having been " cut " by his companions, sat all alone by one of the AN UNKNOWN FRIEXD. 81 windows where the rain dashed loudest. Ray had vanished somewhere in the noisy crowd, and Perry Kent had hidden himself away to have a quiet hour with his lessons. Very likely some sad and sorrowful thoughts crept into Gilbert's heart as he sat here, quite deserted, and looked around him at the merry and happy groups. Once, he remembered, there was not one of those present who would have thought their circle complete without him ; nor one who would not have thought it a great honor to sit beside him. Now, how changed it all was ! No one cared for his company, or, at least, they pretended they did not, and he might have been a bench or a chair for all the attention they paid him. And all this neglect was be- cause he chose to do what he thought was right, what he knew was right. "It's very strange that just doing right should have 82 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFORD. brought all this about," Gilbert thought; " and it does seem as if there never was to be an end to it ! " Then he had been robbed of his papers, and his rank was in all proba- bility to be lost to him after two short days, and altogether he felt very much disgusted and down-hearted at the "moment. " I de- clare ! " he thought, bitterly, " if it weren't for Ray and Perry and the Winterhalters, I be- lieve I'd pack my trunk and leave school to-morrow morning." Now, as you know well enough, this was not Gilbert Starr in his own naturally cheer- ful and courageous spirit. The loss of his papers, and the prospect of the loss of his rank, had disheartened him ; and the patter of the rain that to the merry crowd was cheerful, to him sounded only sad and cheer- less. He did not remove himself from the sound of its wailing, however, but sat listen- ing to it with a dull aching in his heart, AN UNKNOWN FRIEND. 83 thinking, as he looked out in the black depths of the night, that there was not a more solitary fellow in the wide earth than himself; which thought was quite untrue, as he himself would have remembered at any other time. It was not long, however, before Perry Kent made his appearance. " Why, Gilbert," said he, smiling, " you look very lonesome ! " Gilbert would not confess to any such weakness, however, but said, " I'm sick of this school ! In fact, I hate it ; and I've half a good mind to leave it forever to-morrow morning." Perry's shocked face made his protector laugh, in spite of his gloominess. " Come," said Gilbert, " don't look like that long at a time, or I shall lose ah 1 my misery at once. I can't stand such a startled countenance ! " " But," said the boy, " you wouldn't go away and leave Ray and . Mr. and Mrs. Win- terhalter, and and me, Gilbert ? " 84 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFO*RD. "Well, I don't know but I should be obliged to," said Gilbert, gravely ; " I couldn't carry you all in my trunk, for Mr. Winter- halter is decidedly a big man, and might object to such close quarters as I should have to give him ; and Ray is quite a tall fellow, and I can't think of any way by which he might be folded up, and you well, you are small and I guess I could tuck you in somewhere." Perry laughed, and drew a long breath of relief. " You were joking ! " he said, " and I'm glad of it, for, if you left school, how could I stay here ? and oh, just think of it, Gilbert ! you're to graduate next fall, and I've got to stay till till I'm a great grown boy, at least. But there's another reason why you oughtn't to leave school, why you never will, I'm sure. "Well, what's that?" said Gilbert, pleas- antly. AN UNKNOWN FRIEXD. 85 " Because, if you ran away from your trouble, and so gave up to it " " I should be a coward and all that, I suppose," interrupted Gilbert; "well, you needn't be alarmed, I'll put off going to- morrow morning, I guess.'' And here Ray joined them, very merry and cheerful from the company he had just quitted, and the first thing he said to Gilbert, was, " Well, you've improved wonderfully in the last ten minutes. Only that length of time ago 1 looked out this way, and your face was about twice the length of my arm, and not quite half as broad. When I saAv it, I thought, ' Well, you'd better get over that way, Ray Hunter, before Gilbert gets despe- rate and dashes his brains out.' So I've come ; but Perry's ahead of me, as usual." " The first thing he said to me," said Perry, "was that he thought of leaving school to-morrow morning." 86 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFOED. " Leaving school ? " cried Ray ; " that's a pretty story ! I'd like to see him undertake it. What on earth would he leave school for ? " But without waiting for any one to answer his question, Ray hastily added, " Come up stairs, Gilbert. 'Tisn't pleasant for you down here ; but up there we can be quiet and cosey. Come along without a word, as I tell you. And you come too, Perry ! " for Ray's prejudice toward the boy had entirely vanished since Gilbert's mishap on the ice. The three made their way between the groups out of the room, and went up stairs. And there they spent a very pleasant even- ing, and Gilbert declared that he felt won- derfully lighter-hearted, and was quite sure that for once he had had a touch of the blues, "just enough, you know," he said to Kay, " to make everything look gloomy." Perry Kent got sleepy iand went to bed, AN UNKNOWN FEIEND. 87 and Ray and Gilbert prepared to follow, though it was not quite nine and the boys had not left the school-room. Ray was the first to get into bed, but stepped out again very suddenly. "What's the trouble?" queried Gilbert, laughing a little. " Look here ! " cried Ray ; " I'd just like to know what you call this, old fellow?" and plunging his hand down between the sheets, he drew out Gilbert's precious and long-lost packet of papers. There was a dead silence, in which the friends stared at each other in utter be- wilderment. Then Gilbert said, " Did you mean that for a surprise to me ? " and Ray * cried, " Did you mean that for a surprise for me ? " And then they both exclaimed, " No ! " with one breath. " Then where did it come from, and are you sure it's mine ?Jfceaid Gilbert, doubting his own eyes. 88 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. " Of course I am ! I should know your handwriting if you wrofe Chinese ; and here are all your problems plain as day, and the whole packet as neat as a pin. Whoever has had it knew enough to be choice of it. And here is Ah, here is a note ! " said Ray, suddenly, as a bit of paper fluttered out to the floor. Gilbert picked it up, and found only these words within: G. S. There's a plot against you ; but here are your papers from one who has repented his part in the affair. Don't betray me." And tha^ was all. The writer had signed DO name, and evidently intended to keep his identity a secret. Gilbert handed the noto to Ray with a very blank face, and took up his mysteriously-retura^l papers. " There 1 didn't I teU you so ? " said Eay, AN UNKNOWN FKIEND. 89 as he finished the note ; " didn't I tell you there was a plot against you in the first place ? But there's more than one con- cerned in it, and I thought it was only Gates. And who could have repented at this late day ? " " It's all a mystery," said Gilbert, busy with his papers ; " but I'm rejoiced to see them again, you may believe." " Of course ! " said Ray, suddenly very glad that he had put off telling Mr. Winter- ter ; " but oh, why couldn't he have repented a week ago? and how on earth does he suppose you're going to betray him as long as you haven't the slightest idea who he is?" "He means, I suppose, that I'm not to betray to any one that my papers are re- turned to me." " Then you'll have to be spry," said Ray, hastily getting into bed, " for there goes the bell, and there come the fellows, pell-mell." 90 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. Gilbert followed just as the door opened to admit Gates and the rest of the class, and ensured the safety of his packet by putting it under his pillow. It did not take long for the room to settle down to quietness, and then Ray began to whisper so many con- jectures concerning the mysterious affair, that it was fully an hour before they were both asleep. Gilbert fancied him'self to be pretty certain that this unknown friend was Tom Fowler. He thought the awkward handwriting resembled that young gentle- man's very much ; but as Ray did not seem to suspect any such thing, he was silent about his own suspicions, and went tcPfcleep very grateful toward some unknown friend in his class. But when he awoke the next morning, the event of the previous evening seemed so much like a dream, that he had to put his hand . under the pillow to assure himself that it was all a reality. He was standing at the foot of the stairs AN UNKNOWN FRIEND. 91 when the members of his class came down to breakfast, and there was not a face that he did not scan lon^ and attentively ; but his scrutiny was all without result. He fancied Al Turner colored a little under his gaze, but thought little about it, partly because he thought Al would be the last person to repent of such a deed if once committed, and partly because he could not convince himself that his old secretary would stoop to such a meanness and wickedness as down- right theft. And so he made up his mind that it was Tom Fowler to whom he was indebted, thus hitting very wide of the mark. As soon as breakfast was over, Gilbert hurried back up-stairs to his precious packet. " Oh, if 1 had but had it a week ago ! " he thought, with a bitter feeling welling up in his heart towards Gates. He had meant to pass the examination very skilfully, if not 92 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFOKD. even brilliantly, and the thought of so doing had done a great deal toward consoling him for being shut out from*the society of his old comrades ; but here was all hope of a brilliant, or even tolerable examination, cut oflf by the maliciousness of who? Gates, he was sure ; and the thought made his breath come thick and fast, and the hot blood swell in his veins. He felt, just then, as if it would be a great satisfaction to have Gates in the same position in which he had had him once before, and to have no one interfere. But then, what good would it do, after all? Gilbert sat down to his papers with a sigh, and prepared to settle down to hard work; but before he had read a line, Ray came scampering up-stairs in his usual head- long manner, and burst in upon his friend with a great clatter. " Oh, you needn't look so disappointed," AN UNKNOWN FRIEND. 93 said he, instantly changing his bustling manner ; " I've come to help you. Show me where you begin, and I'll look out the an- swers to your problems, while you copy them." " But your own lessons ? " " Are all right ! don't you mind." " But, Ray " " Pshaw ! I won't take a word from you ; " and he sat down resolutely beside Gilbert and went to work. They worked steadily till it was time for recitations, Ray, very patient and careful. When evening came, Gilbert withdrew to a silent corner of the school-room, where he was*soon absorbed in his books and papers, and was not disturbed till he felt a hand laid upon his shoulder. It was Ray again, pencil and paper in hand. " Now look here," protested Gilbert, " go to your own books. I'll manage, somehow." 94 THE LAST STJMMEE AT BAINFORD. " I won't," said Ray, stoutly, and sat down. " But you aren't fair to yourself," said Gilbert ; " you might win my place if you'd only study and make an effort." " There, don't be foolish, Gilbert, dear," said Ray. " Just as if we weren't friends ? " Was it not something to be such friends as they were ? CHAPTER VI. GATES'S DISMAY. remaining day before examination * wore around with hard study on the part of many besides Gilbert Starr, though may be he sat longest into the night and worked hardest, and the morning of the important day dawned very sunny and spring-like. All the boys in Gilbert's room were up early, some to snatch a few last minutes at their books, and some to spend the time in the preparation of unusually nice toilets, a practice, you know, which boys are not greatly addicted to, except on such important occasions as examination- day. 85 90 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFOKD. Captain Philip Gates was very smiling and agreeable to every one, and did not disdain to notice Gilbert with a condescending nod, which Ray had the bad manners to laugh at. And breakfast came very early, in order that every one might have time to prepare for the opening exercises, which were to begin at ten; and after breakfast they returned to books or toilets, just as they were minded. Gilbert finished his own dressing for the occasion in a very few minutes, and went back to his books ; but Ray lingered before the glass that hung over their table, and lingered so long that Gilbert at last looked up from his papers, smiling a little. " Well," said Ray, laughing, " you may smile if you like, but I never saw my hair, collar, or necktie, act half so bad at any other time when I didn't care particularly about 'em. Of course, all three of them know that it's examination-day, and are on a GATES'S DISMAY. 97 strife to do their worst. But go on with your books, Gil, I'll get through in the course of the day." Gilbert went on with his studying, but Ray presently exclaimed, " There was one thing I was going to keep for a surprise for you, old fellow, but I expect that it's all up now. Mother was to come on and so be here at examination, and I was the happiest fellow all last week, thinking about it ; but that letter I had last night said that her coming was all uncertain, because father's business kept him back, and she'd have to come alone if she came at all. But I shall look for her, 'yet ; and I want you to see her, old fellow ! She's the best mother a fellow ever had, and I meant to surprise you by taking you down into Mrs. Winterhalter's parlor and introducing you all of a sudden. I declare," Ray added, as an after-thought, "if I were to graduate at college and take 98 THE LAST SUMMEE AT RAIXFORD. all the honors, I don't believe fathered think he could leave his business long enough to see me do it. But mother well, just wait till }-ou see her, Gilbert." Which Gilbert said he would endeavor to do, and went on with his studies. But Ray was too light of heart to keep silent long at a time, and presently exclaimed " Look here, Gilbert, you're the funniest fellow ! You didn't spend ten minutes getting ready, when you're head-boy, and everybody, of course, will look at you before the rest." " They '11 not want to look long," . said Gilbert, " after they hear what a miserable review I've got to offer them. Oh, Ray, but I'm tempted, you don't know how hard, to lay hands on Gates every time I meet him." " I wish it was best 1 " said Ray, quickly ; "but it wouldn't quite do, and I'm awful sorry about it. But wait," he suddenly added, "there's one way we can do. I GATES'S DISMAY. 99 haven't the scruples you have, you know, and I'll thrash him for you. I'm not quite his height, but I can do it ; what do you say, Gilbert?" Gilbert smiled at the novel method of giving Gates his deserts. " Thank you," said he ; " but let's drop the subject. I'm in a furious hurry, and it don't help me any to talk about Gates. 7 ' " That's a hint for me to keep quiet," said Eay, "and I'll take it." And hardly had he spoken this, when the door opened, and in trooped Gates and his men after their books and papers. Captain Philip regarded Gilbert rather keenly as he sat poring over his books, and mentally wondered if he had any thought of success. Gates desired very much to discern some trace of anxiety or depression upon Gilbert's countenance ; but finding none, consoled himself with thinking, " He 100 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFOED. wouldn't show it if he was certain that he was going to fail, he's got such a will of his own. But I wonder how he'll look when I come to step into the head-boy's place and he has to step out ? " This thought was so pleasant to the valiant captain, that it comforted him for Gilbert's present unconcern, and presently he went off, with all his men, in the gayest of spirits. Ray said, " Do you see how confident Gates is ? Now, I'm ready to go down, too ; when will you come ? " Gilbert looked at his watch, and said, " It's only half-past nine, and as I can't spare a minute, I shan't be down till Mr. Winterhal- ter rings for us." After which Ray de- parted, and Gilbert was alone. He thought he had never known a half-hour so short. He had placed his watch on the table by his side, and was almost dismayed to see how GATES'S DISMAY. 101 fearfully fast the little golden hands traveled over the half-circle. There was such a vast quantity of things that he must leave un- reviewed ! so much that he could not but fail in! and when he thought of what a perfect, and perhaps brilliant examination he might have passed but for the wrong that had been done him Well, do you greatly wonder that his hands felt very much like doubling themselves up into fists, and that his breath came hot and quick ? " The half-hour came to an end, and Mr. Winterhalter's bell rang, the signal for gathering together in the hall. Gilbert closed his book, picked up his papers, and after hurriedly brushing his hair, went down. Ray met him at the foot of the stairs. " There's a great crowd of people in the school-room, and it's packed full, except, of course, where we are to sit. And you '11 have to hurry a bit, too ! " 102 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. Now it was Gilbert's duty, as head-boy, to arrange the classes in their order and to marshal them into the audience-room to their seats. Mr. Winterhalter had nothing at all to do with this, and had already taken his chair with the grave-looking men who had come to aid in the examination. Of course, Gates had to submit to his rival, and be placed as he chose to place him, but the captain consoled himself with thinking that it was the last time that Gilbert Starr would ever give orders to him. Then they filed up the long aisle, between the crowd, to their seats in front, and during the ten min- utes that elapsed while Gilbert was getting all the classes seated, Gates was very self- satisfied and exultant, thinking that at the next examination he should receive all the admiration that his rival was" now receiving. " It w an honor to be head-boy," he thought, as he watched Gilbert walking up and down the aisle beside the classes that GATES'S DISMAY. 103 were filing into their seats ; " and Starr looks very handsome doing the thing, but next term ! ah, where will he be then ? " If the captain had taken more thought^ for his own whereabouts at that far-distant day, he would have done much better than to have troubled himself about Gilbert's wel- % re - Then, the school being all seated, the ex- amination shortly commenced. It began with the under classes, with whom you are unacquainted, and so will not care to hear about ; though these smaller boys had by far the greater number of parents -and friends among the audience. The Second Class came next, and Perry Kent was very successful, as Gilbert was sure he would be ; and not until half-past eleven were the boys of the First Class called. Mr. Winter- halter looked at them with a little thrill of pride. 104 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFOED. " Ah," said he, in a whisper to one of the spectacled doctors, " they're a noble set of fellows. You may ply my head-boy, there, with as hard questions as you like, for he's equal to it. I haven't the least fear for him, and the harder you work at him the better." Poor Mr. Winterhalter ! you were doomed to disappointment that time. The examination of the First Class did not open very brilliantly. Gilbert did not ap- pear very enthusiastic, and simply made very brief answers to the questions asked him. " Is he ill, or what ? " wondered the prin- cipal. The doctors went on with their wise questioning, and Mr. Winterhalter began to grow nervous. He wondered what made Gilbert so dull and common-place in his replies, and looked at him with a troubled face which Gilbert did not fail to note. Then old Doctor Wayne, who was a college GATES'S DISMAY^ 105 professor, spoke up and propounded a diffi- cult problem in mathematics. There was a short space of silence and reflection on th'e part of the class, then Gilbert raised his hand in token of having solved it. Mr. Win- terhalter's face brightened. " Ah, he'll come to it, pretty quick," he thought. But just then Gates raised his hand to show that he had solved it, too. Mr. "Winterhalter was very much surprised at this unusual smartness on the part of the captain, and still more so when Gates's an- swer proved to be correct, and the same as Gilbert's. He did not notice how his head- boy bit his lips, nor the two bright spots of anger that suddenly came into his cheeks and as suddenly faded. Then, as it was noon, the examination was put over till after dinner, the crowd dispersed till it was time for the exercises to re-open, and the boys went off to their noon meal in the dining- 106 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFOED. -v room, and the doctors to their repast, which was served in Mr. Winterhalter's parlor. Ray found Gilbert as soon as possible. " Don't you mind ! " said he, comfortingly ; " you 're even with Gates, and that's some consolation." But Gilbert did mind. " I might as well give it up," he said, bitterly ; " Gates has copied all my answers, that's plain enough ! " " Yes ; but you '11 make that all up when you get out of mathematics. Just wait, don't give it up ! Oh, but if you let Gates beat you, I shall want to go and hide my- self." Gilbert said not another word, but ate his dinner and took a hurried look into his books. The crowd took their seats again, the bell rang, the old doctors gathered on the platform, and Mr. Winterhalter saw the classes file in again with a more hopeful heart. GATES'S DISMAY. 107 " Gilbert has been reserving himself for the afternoon," he thought, " and I shall have no reason to be disappointed in him." Yet he had a secret dread that again his head-boy would prove dull. The exercises opened with some questions from old Doctor Wayne that proved too much for all but Gilbert, and he answered them with his old ease and readiness. Mr. "Wiuterhalter was delighted, and said to himself, " It's just as I thought ; he was waiting for afternoon." Then the old doctor took up one of the lesson-books and began to review. The whole class did well till it came to solving problems, and then there was a sudden falling off in the answers. The rivalry went back to Gates and Gilbert again, and the the audience decided that the honor of head-boy's position would rest upon one of them. Mr. Winterhalter could hardly con- tain his- surprise at Gates's quickness and 108 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. correctness. He began to think that the captain had been a very smart scholar in disguise. He looked at the papers which he held, and found that Gates had correctly answered as many questions as Gilbert him- self. " Really," thought he, " this is very aston- ishing. Gilbert will have to look out for his position." Now Gates was quite as much aston- ished at Gilbert's quickness and correctness. He had expected that his rival would utterly fail as soon as the exercises were well under way ; but here was Gilbert answering ques- tion after question, and correctly solving problem after problem. What could it mean ? As soon as Gates had fairly got Gilbert's papers into his possession, his first care was to copy them, and then to hide the original packet away that it might not be seen in his hands; and from that time GATES 'S DISMAY. 109 until the present, he had not looked at it. The idea that it could by any possibility get back to Gilbert's hands, had never entered his head, and now that his rival showed such wonderful correctness, he began to be very much alarmed and dismayed. Doctor "Wayne, the old professor of mathe- matics, laid down his book at last, with one last problem. It was very difficult, but Gates recognized it instantly. He had found it written out very carefully in Gil- bert's packet, and at once held ^p his hand, thinking, " Now, Gilbert Starr, I've got you I you can't answer that." But after a mo- ment's reflection, Gilbert's hand came up, too, and Gates was so dismayed at the sight that he stammered, got confused and gave in the wrong answer after all, while Gilbert gave in the right one. Captain Philip men- tally gave up the struggle then ; and the old doctor dismissed them with a good many 110 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFORD. compliments. A short intermission follow- ed. Gilbert and Gates took their seats amid a little murmur of applause, Gilbert very grave and rather stern, and Gates very smiling, though secretly he was very un- easy. He began to suspect that Gilbert had regained his packet in some mysterious manner, and if he had regained it, of course he must know that he had been dealt foully by. And what would be the consequences ? Gates's stolen plumes began to trouble him very much. He began to feel that there was danger and disgrace ahead of him. In the short intermission, Ray had time to shake Gilbert's hand and whisper, " The ras- cal came near beating you, but he's done his worst! You'll have it ah 1 your own way now, and so do your best, and bring down the house just as you always do ! " And Perry Kent passed a little note across the boys' shoulders, which said, GATES'S DISMAY. Ill " DEAR GILBEET, Don't get discouraged ! I was dreadfully afraid that wicked Gates was going to beat you, but he can't do you any more hurt. Now be just as smart as you can, and make up for all that's happened. PERRY." Gilbert smiled at this message of his pro- tege's, and looked back to him and nodded assuringly. And both Ray and Perry took heart when they saw how calmly and confi- dently he went back with his class at Mr. Winterhalter's call. Gates knew that it was now no use to strive for his rival's position, and suddenly grew very dull. Albert Tur- ner, Barry White, and even Bob Upham, showed to much better advantage than he. Their scholarship, even in mathematics, was much higher, in reality, than his ; but they had not had the advantage of Gilbert's so- lutions. Now that Gates was obliged to 112 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. fall back upon his own attainments, his bril- liancy and correctness were all gone. And, as Ray said, Gilbert had it all his own way. His answers were quick and prompt, and delighted Mr. Winterhalter very much. He listened and rubbed his hands softly togeth- er in the exeuberance of his delight, and at last leaned over and whispered in old Doctor Wayne's ear, " What did I tell you ? Solid, sir, solid to the very foundation ! I hope Bainsley will keep him translating by the hour together, if he likes. I '11 war- rant that he can't puzzle him." " He's very fair, very fair," said the old doctor, likewise rubbing his hands ; " send him to our college when you get through with him." It came to an end at last, and Professor Bainsley, who was much younger than the other wise men, stepped out and shook Gil- bert's hand, saying before the whole com- pany, " I am very glad to know you, sir I " GATES'S DISMAY. 113 Then the murmur of applause ran up and down the room, and in very deep silence Mr. "Winterhalter stepped out and formerly re-instated Gilbert in his position of head- boy, then allowed him to go down to his class, while up and down ran the clamor of aj^plause again. Then, after a few prizes had been distributed to the under classes, the exercises were- over, and the long-looked for day was ended. The crowd was a long time in dispersing, for there were fathers and mothers looking for their boys, and boys looking for their parents, and there were a great many going home to spend vacation. The doctors and professors came down from their platform, and found it but a slow process getting to Mr. Winterhalter's parlor. Gilbert had kept his seat, waiting for the crowd to thin, and was quite alone, for Ray had suddenly darted away from his side into the crowd, and had not yet returned. Sud- 114 THE LAST SUMMER AT BAINFORD. denly a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and looking up, there stood Professor Bains- lev, who had got thus far on his way to the parlor. " I congratulate you," he said, smiling, and shaking Gilbert's hand ; " when do you graduate ? " " Next October," Gilbert answered, feeling a great many eyes turned upon him from all directions. " That is good," said the Professor, smil- ing again ; '* remember our college. We 'd be very happy to see you there." Aud with this, he passed on, leaving Gilbert rather bewildered, and rather uncertain whether to believe his own ears. Just then, to his infinite relief, Kay came pushing through the crowd with a very happy face. CHAPTER VII. VERY PLEASANT DAYS. T OOK here, my dear fellow," said Ray, as *-* soon as he 'could get up to his friend, " my mother has come. She arrived this noon just as the exercises opened, and just too late to see me before them. Come into the parlor and see her." " But the professors and doctors are all there," said Gilbert, " and 1 wouldn't like to go in, unless Mr. "Winterhalter " " Oh," interrupted Ray, " but you 're mis- taken about that. The professors and doc- tors all went into Mr. Winterhalter's study, for I saw 'em. The parlor is full of other 115 116 THE LAST SUMMER AT RArNTORD. people. Come on, for I told mother I was going to bring you." Ray was so eager and delighted that he could not wait for Gilbert to decide, but tried to pull him along by the arm. "You needn't hang back," said he, "for it's only mother you're to see, and she knows you already ! How could she help it, when my letters have all been full of you ? " " But " " No ' but's ! ' You're to come right in without a word. When a fellow has been as smart as you this afternoon, everybody's got a right to be introduced and to have a shake of your hand. And when it's my mother such a good mother, too I think " " There," said Gilbert, " 101 go. I'd like to know her very much." They followed at the heels of the crowd VERY PLEASANT DAYS. 117 that was pressing outward, and got into the hall at last ; and after waiting till his pa- tience was exhausted, Ray took Gilbert's arm and pulled him through the press into the parlor, which was very full of people. Most of them were parents and friends of the boys in school, and of course the scene was very lively and animated, and there was a great deal of bustle and chatting. Ray took his friend down the long room, quite to the farther end, and stopped before a dark-haired, gentle-eyed lady. " Mamma," said he, addressing her with a tenderness which Ray never used toward any one else, " this is Gilbert Starr." Mrs. Hunter rose and took both of Gil- bert's hands. " Ah," said she, smiling very sweetly, " we are old acquaintances, though I never saw your face till this afternoon. May I tell you that I like Ray's friend very much already ? " 118 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFORD. Ray fancied himself to be the happiest person in school at that moment, and stood by his mother's side as she talked with Gil- bert, feeling, somehow, very proud of both of them. And when, a few minutes later, Gilbert bowed and took his departure, at a call from Mr. Winterhalter, Ray took the seat which his friend had vacated, saying, "Isn't he smart, and handsome, and noble ? and is he at all what you fancied him?" " Very much like," said Mrs. Hunter, smiling at her son's enthusiasm. " How could I help imagining correctly how he looked when your letters contained but little else ? " " Well, really, but there wasn't much else to write about," said Ray ; " and, mother, are you satisfied with my rank ? Of course, 1 couldn't expect to beat Gilbert, and if I stand next to him, why why " VERY PLEASANT DAYS. 119 " Yes, I am satisfied," said the " mother ; x " satisfied with your rank, and satisfied with your friend. Isn't that all you could ask of me?" " Yes," said Ray, gladly. " And are you going to ask him to to You know what I mean ! " Mrs. Hunter put her hand upon Ray's forehead, smoothing back the clustering locks, and looking -at him* with the love and yearning that make mothers' eyes soft and gentle. " Ah," said she, " what a great boy you. are getting to be ! growing away from me, entirely. Almost of a man's stature, and" But Ray quickly exclaimed, " Oh, no ! I'm jvL^t your own little boy, still," and put his head down in her lap as he had been used to doing when a child, and was so happy and forgetful, with the dear hand stroking 120 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. his hair, that he did not look up for a long time ; and when he did, it was to find that Gilbert had returned, and was smiling a little at him. Ray blushed, as if he had been caught doing something very much beneath the dignity of a young gentleman of his years. " Why didn't you tell me Gilbert had got back, mother ? " he said, quickly. " Well," said she,. " I thought that as you were ' still my own little boy/ it wouldn't matter much." Ray laughed. "Well, it's the truth," he said ; " I am ! and I dare say Gilbert would do the same,, if he had a mother." " Of course ! " said Gilbert, sitting down beside his friends, and feeling, for the first time, how very much alone he was among all that gay company. It would be pleasant to have a mother like Ray's to love him and be proud of him ; and should he be ashamed VERY PLEASANT DAYS. 121 to hide his head in her lap, or to have her stroke his hair ? Not in the least ! he thought. Perhaps Mrs. Hunter fathomed his thoughts, for just then she said, " Ray tells me that you have no parents, and no home, in reality. May we hope that . you '11 go home with us and spend the vacation ? " Gilbert was silent a full minute with sur- prise, and Ray fairly held his breath, waiting for an answer. Then Mrs. Hunter said, " You know, of course, that nothing could please Ray better, and it would be a great pleasure to me, too. So we really can't think of taking no for an answer, unless you have some very important reasons for an excuse." How Ray thanked his mother for that ! And presently Gilbert said, " Yes, I'd like to go very much." "I declare!" said Ray, jumping -out of 122 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. * his chair, " those are the best words, next to the ones that made you head-boy again, that I've heard to-day. You haven't the remotest suspicion of the splendid times we '11 have ! has he, mother ? Goodness gracious ! I wish I could express myself on the occasion 1 " " There's no need of anything further, I think," said his mother. " Do you see how dark it is getting ? and people are going very fast. As it is quite a little walk to the hotel, 1 think it would be better for me to go, too." " But you '11 not walk," said Ray, " for I shall order a carriage." " But if there are none ? " " Oh, but I'll find one somewhere ! They can't all be gone, and if you '11 stay here with Gilbert, I'll go and look ; " and he hur- ried out of the fast-darkening, and fast-thin- ning room. VERY PLEASANT DAYS. 123 " Ray is a harum-scarum," said Ray's moMier, "and I can hardly imagine how he came to attach himself to you, Gilbert," with just a hint in her tone at Gilbert's present graveness. ' Why ? " said Gilbert, with a quick smile. " Well," she answered, smiling, " he is so very different, or was when he came under your influence. I think I have you to bless for a great change ia him since that time." " Why," said Gilbert, with honest sur- prise, " how can that be ? " And then, speak- ing out the next thought in his heart, he added, " I don't know how to "guide or rule myself right, Mrs. Hunter, indeed I don't ! I'm only a beginner, and if Ray is any dif- ferent than when we were first friends, I don't believe the credit is due to me at all." He said this very earnestly, and Ray's mother knew he believed it. But she an- 124 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFORD. swered, " You 're very frank, but I may see some things which you do not. And "it's none the less true that you Ve done Ray good because you were not aware of having done so : and Ray writes that to his mother, which he would hesitate to reveal to you, just as he ought. Do you know that some people's natures lead them to hide all their deeper and more serious feelings under a mask, as it were, of light and sometimes even frivolous conduct? Did you ever think that Ray might be one of them ? " Before Gilbert could answer, the subject of their conversation came hurrying in, his happy eyes beaming upon them both. " All ready ! " he said. " I knew I should be successful. Now will you take my arm, mother?" and as the gentle lady rose, Ray added, " Good-by for half an hour, old fel- low while I'm gone to the hotel. I '11 come back and help you pack, for we start VERY PLEASANT DATS. 125 at ten in the morning." And then, with a last nod from them both, they passed out of the parlor. Gilbert sat down in the chair from which he had risen as his friends departed, with the new thought which Ray's mother had put into his heart, fairly thrilling him. Had he, all unconsciously, put better and truer thoughts into Ray's heart by his own efforts to become a better boy? Had this which he had been trying to do for his own ad- vancement in the right way, influenced Ray BO much that his mother could perceive a change for the better in him ? The gentle lady's words " It's' none the less true that you 've done Ray good because you were not aware of having done so," were very pleasant and grateful to him ; yet he could hardly persuade himself that she was right. It did not seem as if he had anything to do in the matter. " But," he 126 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. thought " if it is true, and all this long time since I lost my captaincy and the fellows cut me, Kay has been thinking of what he ought to do and has been ' influenced,' as Mrs. Hunter would say, for the better, if all this 15 true, I'll never take one more thought about the captain's office or the slights I get, or whatever may turn up to trouble ! Good gracious ! how can I ? It's just as if a fellow had been walking in what he thought was a pretty uncomfortable path for the sake of the right, and hot thinking much else about it, when of a sudden it turns out to be God's path which He has marked out instead of one's self, and that one's walking in it is not just for one's self alone, but for those who are looking on, too." And Ray, he remembered, was so light and gay always, that he had supposed him indifferent and unheeding. Yet, hidden un- der it all, was the earnestness and serious- VERY PLEASAXT DAYS. 127 ness which she who knew him best, hinted of. . Mrs. Winterhalter caine into the room to see about lighting the lamps for the guests who were to spend the evening there, and spying Gilbert in his far corner, as she was about to go out, turned back and came out to where he sat. " Are you down-hearted after such a bril- liant examination as you passed this after- noon ? " she asked, with some surprise in her tone. " Oh, no 1 " he answered, brightly ; " I never was happier in my life. I've a great deal to be happy for, Mrs. Winterhalter, and it seems to me I never thought so much about it, as just at this moment. Do you think," he added in a lower tone, " that God ever marks out a path for one, and sets one walking in it without showing, at first, why it is done, or for what good it is done ? " 128 THE LAST SUMMER AT BAINFOKD. " To be sure I do ! " she answered ; " and what then, Gilbert ? " " Only well, it seems to me that I've just found out that mine is one of His paths I'm not certain, you know, but it seems so and that I was set walking in it on others' account besides my own." Mrs. Winterhalter took his hand silently, and pressed it in that tender way of hers which spoke so much more than words could have done, and then went out. Gilbert looked at his watch, and saw that it was nearly time for Ray to return, and passed out of the parlor, too, in search of his protege. The supper-bell rang before he had taken two steps in the hall, and as the boys passed toward the dining-room, Gilbert found Perry, and told him where he was going to spend vacation. At first the boy's face clouded over ; and VERY PLEASANT DAYS. 129 noticing this, Gilbert added, " I wish you were going, too. That's just the only draw- back to the splendid time I'm going to have." " But it needn't be," said Perry, brighten- ing instantly ; " for it's only two weeks that you '11 be gone, and I can manage it pretty well, somehow. I'm glad you 're going, Gilbert, and I'll be at the station two weeks from to-night to meet you." At which brave reply, Gilbert was silent. Ray was delighted to find the next morn- ing a lovely one, the sun bright on the river and its white sails, and bright over all the land. He took Gilbert off to his moth- er's hotel, long enough before ten, bidding him "prepare to spend just the happi- est, merriest, comfortablest two weeks you ever spent in your life, old fellow ! " And Gilbert did. Bay's home was much finer than anything 130 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. Gilbert had anticipated, but this was not what made the comfort and happiness which he found there. The gentle lady, whom Kay called mother, had most to do with it, he thought ; and in the pleasant round of days that followed, she grew more and more like a mother to him. CHAPTER VIII. FEAR COMETH AS DESOLATION. nAPTAIN PHILIP GATES was extremely ^ mortified at the turn affairs had taken. He had stooped to a great meanness and wickedness, all to no purpose. It really seemed as if Gilbert Starr had been more successful and won more honors than ever. So, with a great storm of anger and morti- fied pride in his heart, that was all the hard- er to bear because he could reveal it to no one, he rushed away, as soon as the after- noon's exercises were over, to his chamber. He was confident that some one had proved a traitor, and therefore was not greatly as- 131 132 THE LAST SUMMER AT E4JXFORD. tonished when, on searching the place where he had hidden Gilbert's packet, he found it gone. The discovery, however, made his heart beat very fast, and the blood rush to his cheeks. Gilbert Starr had the advan- tage, now. He wa's at his mercy. " Oh, why didn't I burn it ? " the captain thought, regretfully ; " then there would have been no proof ; Starr never could have recovered it, and would have lost his place. Oh, why didn't I burn it ? " Regrets were quite useless, however, and Gates sat down on the foot of his bed, wondering what it was best to do. Of course, he thought, Gilbert would revenge himself by disclosing all that had happened to Mr. Winterhalter, and then disgrace, and probably expulsion from school, would fol- low. The valiant captain had a good mind to pack his trunk and leave school at once, and so flee from the disgrace which Gilbert Starr had the power to bring upon him. FEAR COMETH A3 DESOLATION. 133 " Oh, what a fool I've been ! " Gates thought, bitterly ; " I've put myself right iu his power, and without doing him a bit of harm, either; and now he'll have his re- venge ! " He remembered that Mr. Winter- halter was very strict concerning all matters of honor, and, if he punished, it would be with no light hand. And Gates knew that his offence had not been a light one. " But," he exclaimed, with a burst of anger, " I won't run away and give,up to Starr with- out a struggle ! I'll stay, if only to got that sneaking traitor, Turner, punished ! If it hadn't been for him, all would have gone well enough." And just then the door opened, and Albert himself came in, bringing his books and papers. Captain Philip started up with very big fists. " Oh, you traitor ! " said he, advancing in a threatening attitude ; " I'll pay you for this ! Ill show you that you can't play me 134 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. such a two-sided game, without having to answer for it." " Look here," said Turner, before his cap- tain had time to strike, " it will be for your interest to. keep still. Strike me, and the whole story goes before Winterhalter." "What's the odds?" said Gates, still threatening ; " the story will go before Win- terhalter, anyway ; Starr will do that, and if I pound you I'll get part of my revenge, anyhow. So look out for " " Pshaw ! " cried Turner ; " you don't know Gilbert Starr. He won't take any notice of you, you may flatter yourself. He won't stoop enough for that. However, if you wish to pound me, you can make the attempt." "I do ! " said Gates, and would have carried out his intentions, had not the rest . ; of the boys burst in with an account of how Professor Bainsley was actually stopping FEAR COMETH AS DESOLATION. 135 in the crowd to talk with Gilbert Starr ; and those who were near enough declared that they had heard the Professor^say something about Gilbert's going to college. This was not at all soothing to Gates's envious heart. It did seein as if everything and everybody had conspired to praise and exalt Gilbert Starr that afternoon. " Oh, I hate him ! I hate him ! " he thought, furiously. It is quite natural for a person to hate one whom he has injured, and as for Gilbert not noticing what had transpired, Gates did not believe a word of it. He judged his rival by himself, and as the cap- tain was neither generous nor magnanimous, he judged Gilbert to be destitute of those virtues. Of course, he would revenge him- self ! Who would not ? The wretched captain sat upon his bed, nursing his wrath toward Albert Turner and Gilbert, till the supper bell rang. Then he 136 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. put on a very haughty expression of counte- nance and went down with the rest, thinking to show Gilbert Starr that he defied him, and all his attempts at revenge. But really, this show of bravado was quite useless, as Gilbert did not look once in the captain's direction during supper, and when the meal was over, went off directly with Ray Hun- ter. This set the captain somewhat at ease, though it puzzled him. Who ever heard of such indifference ? But after all, it might be only an attempt to put him off his guard, he thought, and Mr. "Winterhalter might send for him to come to the study at any moment.. But the evening passed and no such message came. The next day the first of vacation dawned, and an hour or two after breakfast, Gates discovered that Gilbert Starr had gone home with Ray Hunter to spend the two weeks of recreation. Then his heart FEAR COMETH AS DESOLATION. 137 gave a great bound of relief, and he began to think that what Al Turner had said might be true, after all. And if it was true, Gates thought, what a capital chance of revenge Starr ha'd neglected ! Really, it seemed almost a pity to have such a magnificent opportunity pass by neglected, even though its improvement would bring ruin and shame upon himself. But before the forenoon had passed away, Gates chanced to meet Mr. Winterhalter in the hall, and the principal interrupted him. " Now," thought the captain, with a shrink- ing at his heart, " your time has come, old fellow! But keep up a firm cheek, what- ever you do ! " But Mr. "Winterhalter had only stopped him to say, " Really, Philip, but we were very much surprised and pleased with that examination in mathematics, yesterday. We'd no expectation of anything so brilliant. 138 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. Next term we shall look for great things from you." Then he passed on, leaving Gates quite silent, and not without some sense of shame and meanness in his heart. But this feeling was only fleeting, and then he thought, joy- fully, " The old chap doesn't suspect any- thing about it, so I'm all right ! Really, I wonder if Starr was such a fool as not to know what an advantage he had of me ? " What do you think ? was it Gilbert's dulness and lack of perception that led him to pass by this opportunity for revenge, or was it something else ? The two weeks of vacation passed very swiftly to those who spent them at home, but began to drag a little to those who were so unfortunate as to be left at Rainford. Perry Kent was one of those to whom the last day of the second week seemed very long and almost unending. Never FEAR COMETH A3 DESOLATION. 139 before, since the little boy's arrival at school, had Gilbert been absent a single day, and his present two weeks' absence was felt very keenly. The two weeks that were so short to his protector, seemed as long to Perry as the whole past term had been. Yet, in due course of time, Saturday night wore around, the Saturday night which the boy had so long looked forward to, and it found him waiting at the Eainford station in the great crowd of travelers, and persons, who, like himself, were waiting for friends. The constantly arriving and departing trains, the whistling, bell-ringing, bustle and roar of a great crowd, made such confusion, that Perry began to doubt whether he should find his friend at all. There were plenty of school-boys among the newly- arrived, and plenty of faces that Perry knew ; and suddenly, while he was peering into the crowd, he felt himself lifted quite "140 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. oH the platform, and quite as suddenly set down again, and turning around, there stood Gilbert and Ray, both of them just as fresh, and bright, and handsome as possible. " So glad to see you ! " said Gilbert, tak- ing his protege up again ; " how're the Win- terhalter's school, yourself, and everybody else?" " First rate ! and oh, what a two weeks it's been, Gilbert, so long, so dull, and so tedious ! " cried Perry, clinging fast to Gil- bert's hand. " Well, that doesn't at all agree with my two weeks," said Perry's protector, laugh- ing. " Ray and I found them so short that we were actually puzzled to account for the time, and it doesn't seem much longer than yesterday, since we were here in the depot bound for a half-mouth of pleasure. " Gilbert looked wonderfully refreshed and brightened up, Perry thought, and this quite FEAE COMETH AS DESOLATION. 141 paid him for all the dullness and dragging of the two weeks. Then they started home- ward through Rainford streets, talking very merrily, and thinking that, aflfer all, it was one of the dearest, pleasantest old towns that man ever made, especially just now, when they were so glad to get back to it, and*" the streets were full of light-hearted school-boys like themselves, and the west was shining like a topaz so warm and yellow and full of splendid light. And the next morning they were hard at work over their books again. Hot weather came very early that sum- mer. It seemed as if there had been a mis- take somewhere in Mother Nature's calen- dar, and that August had got substituted for June. The last days of the month of roses were fairly scorched, as if by the breath of a furnace, and July came in hot and glowing, and without a tojien of the much-needed 142 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. and long-looked for rain or showers. The grass began to wither and crisp, and Mr. Winterhalter's garden, back of the school- buildings, soon grew to look forlorn and disconsolate. The trees drooped, dirty and gray with dust, and all the land began to sigh for rain. But no rain came. This unusual weather soon produced a perceptible effect upon study and tasks. Scholars grew listless and indolent, and les- sons were but poorly learned or recited. Though the windows were wide open, the school-room would be very hot and suffo- cating, even during morning exercises ; for there was no dew at night, and the great earth seemed to have lost all moisture or coolness, and the night-time was as swelter- ing as the day. It was very uncomfortable and oppressive, everybody knew, but as yet no one had thought particularly of danger. One Sunday afternoon, Gilbert and Ray FEAR COMETH AS DESOLATION. 143 with Perry Kent, had gone down to the river's" edge to catch a breath of fresh air, if possible. They had a shady seat under a low-hanging old apple tree, but as for wafts of fresh air they were not to ^e found, even there. Glassy, almost motionless, the river lay under the burning sun. A sail or two hung listless and becalmed over against the opposite shore. The river-meadows, that should have been green and rank, were faded to a dull brown, and the whole wide view, despite the sunshine, seemed very cheerless and melancholy. Something of this had touched Ray Hunter's bright spirits, and for half an hour he had lain with his head upon his arm, feeling very much de- pressed, and listening while Gilbert read, " ' Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble ; incline thine ear unto me ; in the day when I call answer me speedily. For my days are consumed as 144 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. smoke, and my bones are burned as a hearth.' " Then he broke his long silence with, " I say, Gilbert, doesn't that apply to these days ? it seems to me that I never saw such a gloomy time, for all the sunshine and clear weather. It's worse than any cold can be, or any heat that I ever saw before. I feel just burnt up entirely." Gilbert looked off the Book, across at the hazy hillside and at the burning, sluggish tide, and at last brought his eyes back to Ray. " I think David must have felt such parching heat and seen such a burning day as this," he said ; " else he never would have compared his affliction to them. But this is the way he comforted himself, with thinking, ' But thou, Lord, shalt endure forever ; and thy remembrance unto all gen- erations.' " " I wish we might do it, as he did," said Perry Kent. FEAR COMETH AS DESOLATION. 145 Before Gilbert had time to reply, Bob' Upham came hurrying down the bank, quite interrupting their quiet. As he was one of Gilbert's old men, he was supposed to have cut his old captain's acquaintance, and so Ray was the first to speak. " I wonder how on earth you can hurry ! " he said ; " it's more than I can do, comforta- bly, to keep still." " But," said Bob, quickly, " there's reason to hurry. You don't know what's happened since noon." " What has ? " queried Ray, as a matter of necessity, and wishing that Bob would go away. " Why," said the new comer, " Tom Fow- ler, Al, Gates, besides half a dozen in the under classes, are sick, taken as suddenly as that ! Winterhalter had the doctor over from Rainford half an hour ago." " What's the matter ? " queried Ray, eager- ly enough this time. 146 THE LAST SUMMEK AT RAINFORD. " Fever ! and dangerous, too, the doctor said. There's plenty sick over in town of the same kind, and it's so contagious, that Mr. Winterbalter is going to call the school . together at four o'clock, for 'all it's Sunday, and see what's best to be done. So I came down to tell you." " It wants only a quarter of four, now," said Ray, looking at his watch as Bob walked away. Then the two friends looked into each other's eyes for a few short seconds, both, doubtless, thinking of the danger that threat- ened. Ray spoke first. " We might have kno\vn what would come from such a long, dreadful heat," said he, looking at the scorched meadows and glow- ing river ; " and what will you do, Gilbert ? " " Go up to the house, first, of course," said Gilbert ; " we can tell better when we 've seen Mr. Winterhalter. Come, Fer- ry 1 " FEAR COMETH AS DESOLATION. They walked slowly up the crisp, scorched lawn, Ray's heart getting very heavy. It had not been light and cheerful that after- noon, and now it was doubly oppressed. " Oh, dear," he shivered, as they entered the school-room and saw the boys gathered in a deep silence, " it's all so sudden ! and I can bear anything better than sickness." To which Gilbert replied, " Pshaw ! don't lose your courage yet ; Ray." Mr. Winterhalter did not keep them long. He told them frankly that the fever was dangerous, and thought to be contagious ; that many people in the town were ill with it ; that he had not yet decided to close school, but those who were alarmed, or who wished to go home were free to do so on the following morning. And then he dismissed them. There were but very few of the smaller boys who did not at once decide to start for home the next morning. Ray came to Gil- 148 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. bert, saying, " What are you going to do ? It's time to decide." " I've no home to go to," said Gilbert, " and I do not think I should go if I had." " But having no home need make no dif- ference," said Ray, quickly. " Mine is yours, too, and you know you '11 be welcome. Come, go home with me, and be safe." But Gilbert shook his head. " I '11 stay," said he ; " I wouldn't like to run away. Per- haps I 'd ought to stay I don't know, at any rate I shall not go yet." " Then I shall stay," said Ray, decisively. But to this, Gilbert objected at once. " No, no," he said, " you must go home. You 're half sick already, but that good mother of yours will make you all right in no time ; while if you stay here you may have a long illness and not half the good care ! You must go home, Ray ! and I wish I had half as good a place to send Perry Kent." FEAE COMETH AS DESOLATION. 149 " Look liere," said Ray, with sudden fire, " that plan may please you first-rate, but it's a poor rule that won't work both ways. If you want me to go home you know what will send me, nothing less than your con- sent to go, too. So that's settled 1 " " But Ray wheeled and walked away. " That's my decision," he called back ; " you know what will alter it." They, all the well ones, slept in the school room that night ; and the next morning there was a general Tush for home. That day only one new case occurred,, and this was Barry White, who had not felt able to leave with the rest. So school was virtually broken up, and upon the shoulders of the "Wmterhalters rested a great care and anxie- ty. The good lady's face so weary, grave, and troubled haunted Gilbert long after he went to bed that night. CHAPTER IX. GILBERT'S OFFEB. "TTTITH the first sunbeams that stole ' ' through the slats of the shutters, Gil- bert got up, his first thought being of Mrs. Winterhalter's grave, weary face that had so oppressed him on the previous night. It had got to be a custom with them all to look for signs of rain when arising, and Gilbert slowly pushed open the shutters, with little hope, however, of finding any such blessed promise in the sky, and looked out. Hot, molten, fiery, the sun was push- ing up through some low-lying bands of smoke-colored clouds, and its red rays were beginning to travel over the parched earth, 150 GILBERT'S OFFER. 151 and all the sky was set aglow with the brazen light that had hidden its cool blue for so many weary days. Afar, the hills seemed ready to ignite as soon as the sun's hot spears should touch them, and flame up in a conflagration that might set the earth a-burning. Not a waft of cool air greeted him, not a trace of the dewy freshness and fragrance of morning-time ; but parched and stifling the new-born day came up to its work with flaming banners and outriders of hot and fiery garb, bringing death and evil in their train. Already the fainting fields had caught the glow, and glared the same sickening color as the sky. Gilbert closed the shutters to shut out the hateful gleaming, and turned away with a sigh. In spite of himself his heart began to feel heavy and oppressed. Just then Ray began to turn uneasily upon his hard bed, and at last he opened his eyes 152 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAINFORD. in a bewildered sort of way upon the un- familiar surroundings of their sleeping-room, and said, as soon as he had fairly made out his whereabouts, " Are there any signs of rain ? " " No," said Gilbert ; " it's hotter than ever. It seems as if the earth would catch fire and burn up. The hills fairly smoke." Ray drew a long sigh. Gilbert threw himself down upon one of the benches, feel- ing very listle-ss, and thinking that he felt much like one of those parched, withered fields that he had just seen glowing in the sun. He heard Ray get up from his hard bed and step slowly about while dressing, and presently he was roused from a little reverie by his friend coming and seating himself beside him. Gilbert looked up at his friend's heavy eyes and pale face, saying, quickly, " Ray, you are half-sick ! You oughtn't to be here another day." GILBERT'S OFFER. 153 " That's, what I've come to see you about," said Ray ; " will you b home with me ? " " To help you on the journey ? Yes, if you '11 only go ! " Bay's face fell. " No, no," he exclaimed, " 1 mean will you go home with me and stay ? I'm going to ask you this question every morning till you consent." If anything could have induced Gilbert to consent, it was Ray's pale face and heavy eyes. He took his friend's hand and fancied it felt hot and feverish. " You oughtn't to stay here another min- ute ! " he exclaimed, energetically. " You 're a foolish fellow if you don't take the cars and start for home this very morning." " Very well," said Ray ; " you know what will make me." ''Pshaw !" said Gilbert, impatiently, "you're unreasonable about it. I haven't decided that 1 ought to go, yet. I'm head-boy, you THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFORD. know, and though the "Winterhalters never will ask me, I've been^inking that perhaps I ought to stay and help them through this trouble. They'll have their hands full, with all the help they can get, and I might do a great deal up in our room among the fel- lows." " Good heavens ! " . cried Ray, suddenly, while his eyes dilated, " you don't mean that that you '11 go right into the fever ? " " Why, yes, if I took care of the fellows I should have to, of course." Ray sat motionless for a few seconds, then got up and came to Gilbert, saying, while his voice quivered, ' Please come home with me, old fellow." But Gilbert was firm. He drew Ray down beside him, saying in his teiiderest manner, " I thank you more than I can tell. You 're the truest friend a fellow ever had, but don't you see? you ought to go GILBERT'S OFFEK. 155 whether 1 go or not ! You 're not head-boy, and you 're just ready to be sick, and there's nothing to keep you. And there's another reason why I can't go. I '11 never go and leave Perry Kent alone." And Gilbert looked out -to where his pro- tege was sleeping, and colored at the bare thought of running away and leaving him to meet danger, and perhaps death, alone. Just then the boy raised himself up and spoke, startling Ray and Gilbert, who sup- posed him sound asleep. " But, Gilbert," said Perry, " you needn't stay one minute because I'm here. I want you to go and be safe, indeed I do ! Don't have me for a reason for not going." Gilbert looked at Ray and smiled a little, and answered Perry with,- " Go to sleep, little boy, and not trouble your head about us." Then bidding Ray to keep quiet, Gil- bert went off to see whether there was to 156 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. be any breakfast forthcoming. The house seemed very silent and deserted, and his footsteps echoed in a lonesome, hollow way, as he went down the hall to the kitchen. Mrs. Brant, the housekeeper, met him at the door. tl Breakfast, is it ? " said she ; " yes, it '11 be ready, shortly. Mrs. Winterhalter hasn't forgotten ye, for ah 1 the dreadful times we 're in. She brought down the orders for ye to have meals as usual. I '11 ring the bell at meal-times just as always." In going back Gilbert met Mrs. Winter- halter herself, with a tray of medicines. Her face brightened at the sight of him, and she set her burden down in a chair. " It does me good to see your fresh face," said she, " after looking upon those up-stairs. You 're quite well, and strong as ever ? " " Oh, yes," he answered, just as brightly as possible for her sake. " I never was better GILBERT'S OFFER. 157 or stronger in my life. And how are they all up-stairs ? " The good lady gave a grave nod of her head, saying, " Not well at all. The doctor stayed as long as he could be spared from patients in town, but he looks very sober, and shakes his head whenever I ask for good signs." "Have you plenty of help?" Gilbert asked. "The under classes are well supplied," Mrs. Winterhalter answered, taking up her tray and preparing to go on, " and I wish I could say as much of those in your own room. We have one nurse there, but he can hardly attend to so many. I've been there myself, however, most of the time." And the good lady's face showed the effects of it. " Xow, Mrs. Winterhalter," said Gilbert, cheerily, and at the same time taking the tray from her hands and putting it back in the chair, " will you do me a favor ? " 158 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAIXFOBD. "Why yes," she answered, surprised at his question, and still more so at his action ; " and what is the favor ? " " That you '11 let" me go into the Club room for a nurse. The fellows all know me, and I 'm sure I could help a great deal, run- ning up and down for medicine and water and such things, if in no other way." Mrs. Winterhalter's eyes suddenly welled with tears, and Gilbert was so surprised at this unusual sight that he cast his own upon -the floor. Then, taking his hand, the good lady said, with a slight tremor in her voice, " My dear boy, what shall I say ? You are very dear to us," and then she stopped to clear her voice which had suddenly grown very husky j then she continued, " Do you know, Gilbert, it might cost you your life ? " This was said with an effort. " Of course," said Gilbert, now raising his clear gray eyes to hers," " there is danger My Ji-ar boy, whnt shall T say ? " Page 158. GILBERT'S OFFER. 159 of that ; but I 'm very strong and very healthy, why, I never wa^ sick in my life, Mrs. Winterhalter ! and I don't think the fever would take hold of me very easily." She looked steadily at him for a mo- ment and hesitated, Gilbert knowing well enough that it was dislike to .put him in danger that kept back her answer. " You needn't hesitate," he said, smiling ; " I don't fear at all." Then she said, laying her hand upon his shoulder, with a look upon her face that haunted him for a long time, "I accept your offer. Come to me in the study after you 've had your breakfast." Gilbert said, " Thank you," and went on his way to the school-room, w^ere he had left Ray and Perry, while Mrs. Winterhalter took up her tray and walked slowly up- stah-s. Now this offer of GilDert's, was not 160 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. so easily made as you may fancy. The thought of so jjoing, had been in his heart since that Sunday afternoon when first the fever entered school. It was not at all inclination that led him to make the offer, for he detested illness, and could never bring himself to endure the restraints of a sick-room with any comfort. Every vein in his body thrilled with warm, healthy blood, that demanded stir and action, and could but poorly brook restraint or confine- ment. He knew that his self-appointed task would be irksome and tiresome, and disa- greeable, to say nothing of the danger that lay in wait ; but, with all this in prospect, he had offered himself, and his services, and Mrs. Winterhalter had accepted them. He entered the school-room, looking twice as cheerful as when he left it a half-hour before, and said, cheerily, " Well, Ray and Perry, we 're t^ have some breakfast just GILBERT'S OFFER. 161 as soon as Mrs. Brant's ball rings, which must be shortly. How are you, Ray? any better than when you first woke up ? " Ray's eyes were a little brighter, as he answered, " Somewhat ; but what on earth V kept you so long ? " This was just what Gilbert would rather not have told ; but thinking that the truth would have to be revealed soon at any rate, he anjpvered, " Well, I Ve been enlisting, to tell the truth, enlisting in Mrs. Winterlial- ter's army of nurses. I'm going on duty di- rectly after breakfast." Ray* sat looking at his friend in blank hopelessness for a full minute. Then he said, with a sigh, " Well, 1 might as well bid you good by and go home, for if you once go into that room as nurse that'll be the last of you." " Xow you're beginning to talk sensibly," said Gilbert, with a brave cheeriness ringing 162 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. in his voice ; " go home, like a good fellow, and you '11 be bright and well again in no time ; but if you stay here, well, you 're not so sure of it by any means ! " " There, now you don't -talk sensibly," said Ray ; " and I won't go home. And," he added, with an attempt at his old mirthful- ness which failed utterly and became dead earnestness at the last, " if you are going into that danger I'll like to stay till the last, and so not have you die up there quite alone." Gilbert was glad to hear the breakfast-bell ring, and went out to the dining-room", think- ing that Ray was outrageously obstinate ; and Ray followed, thinking that Gilbert was very unaccommodating, and very reckless, and altogether an ill-behaved fellow. This kept them quite cool toward each other during the short meal, but when Gilbert rose to go to Mrs. Winterhalter's study, Ray re- GILBERT'S OFFER. 163 lented and exclaimed, " Come back, old fel- low ! Let's be friends till the last." Gilbert came back, smiling and kind. " You '11 be in better spirits, Ray, when I come back this noon," he said. " Keep up a stout heart, and don't worry about me. It's only doing duty, and that's what I set out to do, you know, last summer. It mayn't be pleasant, but it's right in my path, some- how," he said, shaking Ray's hands, " and and I couldn't feel right to shove it aside." With this he was gone, and Ray was left to wander disconsolately about the deserted school-room, and to make unavailing at- tempts to get a breath of fresh, cool air. Perry Kent came in, and Ray fell to talking with him about their common friend, and was surprised and not very well pleased, to "find that the boy thought Gilbert's offer of aid a duty, which it belonged to him to carry out. 164 THE LAST SUMMER AT KAINFORD. " I dare say," said Ray, with some show of indignation, " that you didn't try to pre- vent him from going in the least." " No, I did not," said Perry ; " Gilbert means to do his duty, always, and he wouldn't want me to hinder him, and I wouldn't want to." " Well," said Ray, " it may be his duty, I don't deny that, but I think altogether too much of the dear fellow, to ever send him into danger. How would you feel if he caught his death there, and it was you who advised him to go ? " Perry Kent was -silent, though not shaken in his faith of what it was Gilbert's duty to do. Meanwhile, the friend of these two was installed in his new position, after being in- troduced to his companion, Stratton, who had been engaged as nurse for the Club room. GILBERT'S OFFER. 105 The room was partially darkened, and it was sometime before Gilbert could distin- guish everything plainly ; then ho saw a sight that made his heart sink. Gates lay ill one corner, Tom Fowler in another, and in the row between them were Al Turner, Barry White, and one or two who had been brought in from the second class's room. Such a strong hold of them the fever had got, that they lay quite- quiet, save an occa- sional muttered exclamation and whisper from the parched lips of one whose mind wandered in the vivid, but unreal, world of delirium. The room could not but 'be close and op- pressive, and Gilbert began to feel the close- ness ana the deep silence, at the end of the first half-hour. But what was one half-hour compared with those that were to follow, and that did follow ? 166 THE LAST SUMilEB AT EAIXFORD. That evening, as Mrs. Wiaterhalter sat at tea with her husband in the unwonted quiet that had fallen over the house, she said, soberly, and with a deep tenderness in her voice, " If anything was needed to convince me that there has been a great change in Gilbert Starr since last summer a change that will grow and deepen with every day that passes over him it has been more than supplied to me to-day. You remember that affair about the captainship of his com- pany last summer, and how he was wronged and insulted ? "Well, when I saw how ten- derly he cared for those very ones who wronged him, and who have not spoken to him since that time, nor of him, save in slander, when I saw this, and how he was risking his life for theirs, I thought he had come very near to what the best of men come to but a very few times in their lives. GILBERT'S OFFER. 167 It made the tears come, and yet it made me very happy. I pray that God will spare him to us ! " " Amen," said Mr. Winterhalter. CHAPTER X. THE SHADOW OP DEATH. OH, but those grew to be fearful days toward the last, rainless, parched and scorching, and full of fear and death. Thick, smoky veils wrapped the hills about, and settled on all the far horizon, through which the sun rose up blood-red and sank away at night hot and lurid. The town was half-deserted. The fever had driven away all those who could flee to a safer locality ; shops and stores were closed, and business had dwindled down to the trade which provision merchants drove ; and of the throngs of drays and carriages that once filled the streets, all had vanished, 168 THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 169 save the doctors' gigs which rolled by night and day along the silent ways, and that slow- moving carriage which bore the dead out to the burnt, brown cemetery on Riverside. The river shrank away, and sent up noi- some smells from its black ooze to burden the already stifling air. No clear, life-giving breezes floated up from the sea. The heavens were as brass, and the earth like hot iron to the feet of men. One night the bells cried out a wild alarm, and a ruddy flame burst up into the night, and glared over the stricken town, and into many a window where the sick were moan- ing and the happier dead nesting ; and there were hardly strong men enough left to ex- tinguish the fierce destroyer that threatened by day and night. The smoke of this burning settled down and wrapped the town in a thicker, heavier gloom, than ever. Oh, for rain ! rain plentiful, powerful and saving ! 170 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. There had not, as yet, been a death at Mr. "Winterhalter's. Across the river, at Pro- fessor Rotfi's, two boys closed their eyes on. one stifling night, forever ; but at Mr. Win- terhalter's they had had the best and kindest of care, and the most faithful of* attention. Yet several lay hovering -betwixt life and death, in a sleep that it was by no means certain they would ever awaken from. Gilbert was at his post, a little worn and weary with the long strain upon his ener- gies, but otherwise quite his own active, buoyant self. The fever had not harmed him, and he had not had a symptom of the dreaded disease, fgr all his long, close con- finement. Ray had dragged himself around day after day, long after he ought to have been abed, and at last came to Gilbert one morning, with the fever shining in his eyes and burning in his veins. " 0, Ray ! " Gilbert cried, as soon as he saw his friend ; " what did I tell you ? " THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 171 Ray was humble and penitent enough. " I know ! " he said. " I'd ought to Ve gone, I wish I had! But it's too late, now : and and if I should get low, old fellow, I wish you'd send for mother. But don't unless I do, for she'd catch the fever." He went to bed, and Gilbert Avatched him slowly sinking down into unconsciousness, as the rest had done, with a heavy heart, It seemed such a strange and fearful thing to get no answer whenever he called his friend's name, to receive no attention when he stroked his forehead and clustering hair, to be looked upon by Ray's shining eyes with no light of recognition in them. This, and the sight of those white, fever- wasted faces about him, was what wore heaviest upon Gilbert's power of endurance. He could endure the physical labor and the fatigue of constant watching, better than the awful dragging of the weary days, full 172 THE LAST SUMMER AT BAINFOP.D. of sights and sounds that seemed to fairly burn themselves upon his heart, so that it was full of pain and almost despair. Two or three days after Ray gave up, Perry Kent began to grow listless and heavy-eyed. Gilbert had been fearing it all the time, and detected the first symptoms of the coming fever in his protege. His face was almost despairing, as he went to tell Mrs. Winterhalter that the fever had fairly got a hold of the little boy. The good lady did her utmost to console him, saying, "Very likely it will prove only a light attack, and soon over. I will have a bed made for him in the school-room, so that he can be quiet and comfortable, and where I can have an eye ^ upon him, myself.' 7 This comforted Gilbert somewhat, but the boy's illness -was another cause of fearfulness and anxiety. Long, long days followed. Not a death THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 173 in the house, as yet, and the doctor thought there were some faint signs of mending, on the part of those who were first taken with the fever. Perry, to Gilbert's joy, did not seem to be very ill, though sometimes strangely stupid and insensible ; and the boy had Mrs. Winterhalter's best care, and Gilbert was quite at ease about him. But poor Ray did not seem to mend in the least, and each day grew more wan and white, and more like the ghost of his former self.. Gilbert's heart grew heavy, and he thought of Ray's last injunction, and was in doubt whether to send for the gentle mother or not. He decided to wait a little longer, just as long as he dared. These were the hardest days for him. Good Mrs. Winterhalter saw how weary his face looked as he came down to his meals, which she made him eat in the study, instead 'of the great solitary dining-room, and never 174 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. failed to speak a word of courage and conso- lation, real, hearty, vital words that did Gilbert good. But she did not offer to re- lease him from his post how could she ? and he did not wish her to. He filled a place in the sick-room which could be filled so well by no one else, and help and aid were scarcer than precious stones. She could not spare his aid, and he never would have accepted such an offer, could she have made it. Whatever shrinking or despair there was in his heart, not a thought of flee- ing from his post found shelter there. So the sun rose morning after morning, and wheeled over into the west, and sank through lurid vapor to its rest, and long stifling, solitary nights followed. On one of these evenings, Gilbert had pushed open the blinds of the window by Ray's bedside, and sat there, trying to feel a cool waft of air upon his face. A little THE SHAlfbW OF DEATH. . 175 * light shone in from the west, just enough to reveal the white faces of the sleeping sick around him ; and upon Ray's countenance it fell, making it very pure and fair with its brown locks clustering all about it, like the angel's face in the painting which hung in Mrs. Winterhalter's parlor. Gilbert looked, tenderly stroked the white, unconscious forehead, and felt as if he should choke with pent-up tears. Hay die ? pass away so young and bright and full of life into the great Hereafter? Die, and leave him alone ? He hastily put his own face down beside the unconscious one to smother the groan that came up. " Ray ! Ray ! how can you die and be like a stone and lost to me ? He felt as if he wanted to get his friend in his arms and hold him back back from the grave that he was slipping into. But when he had got quieter and remem- bered the uselessness of such giving away 176 THE LAST SUMMERS' AT RAINFORD. -* to grief, and the need of keeping himself as cheerful and buoyant-hearted as possible, he turned to* the window, carefully turn- ing the blinds so that the light might not fall so squarely upon the face that he dared not trust himself to look upon. Before him was the dully-glimmering, half-deserted town, si- lent as those ruined cities of the past, where only beasts prowl and bats flit. Silent, too, was all the wide land, as if death had left not an inhabitant therein. God's hand was very heavy upon the earth. But as Gilbert sat looking out upon the desolation, the thought of what he had read to Ray and Perry that Sunday afternoon when first the fever came, flashed quickly upon him, the same thought with which David had comforted himself in affliction : " But thou, Lord, shalt endure forever ; and thy remembrance unto all generations." Though pestilence and death were on the THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 177 earth, God sat above all with love and care and remembrance that could never fail. There was comfort in the thought. He was to endure forever, never passing away, never failing, never forgetting. Whatever ruin or death darkened the earth, whatever trouble blasted, however thickly mists of evil and danger gathered, above all He reigned a mighty fortress of strength, immutable, and best of all, a tender Friend. Gilbert sat very quietly, w.ith a strong sense of something sure and unfailing to cling to, making his heart lighter. It was so good to know that the poor smitten earth was under Death's control only through the Lord's sufferance, and that it was not drifting through this terror of plague and death with- out- a sure hand to guide it. Just then, the bells struck out the hour in long-drawn, wavering tolls that echoed up and down the river, and over the empty 178 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. town. Gilbert heard tho piazza-door open and close, and caught a glimpse of the doc- tor's dim figure as he went across the lawn to his gig. Then came some quick, but soft steps along the lower hall and hurriedly up the stairs, at which Gilbert wondered some- what, as Mrs. Winterhalter's step had been quite slow and weary of late. But she it was, and she stopped to light the lamp in the hall without, for it was very dark there. Then she beckoned Gilbert to come out to her, which he did. They stood looking at each other for two or three long seconds, in which Gilbert's heart began to beat very fast, at something which he perceived in the kind face before him. " My dear boy," said Mrs. Winterhalter, with a great effort to be calm, " can you bear what I am to tell you ? even if if it is very bad news ? " " Oh," said Gilbert, suddenly, putting his hand to his head, " do you mean " THE SHADOW OP DEATH. 179 He could get no further, but stood looking at her in such a bewildered way, as if he had been stunned, that the good lady quick- ly took his hand, saying, " Bear up, Gilbert. It's God's doing. And you had better come at once." He followed mechanically, holding on to the balusters all the way down stairs, and feeling so dizzy and shocked, that every- thing, at times, seemed to swim around him. They passed softly into the great dimly- lighted school-room, with the little white bed in the center, and by which Mrs. Brant and Mr. Win-terhalter were standing ; and they were not any too soon. Perry had just opened his great, clear eyes all the fever and delirium gone out of them and at once they rested on his old protector. Gil- bert bent close over him. " Oh," said the boy, very faintly, but very delightedly, " you, Gilbert ! You 've been 180 THE LAST SUMMER AT BAINFORD. gone a great while. May I get hold of your hand just as I used to ? " Instantly Per- ry's hand was lying in his protector's, as it had so often lain in those bright and glad- some days of last summer. Perry smiled with satisfaction. " I 've been sick," he said, looking up into his friend's face ; " but I'm I 'm almost well now." Gilbert's figure was shaking from head to foot, and it seemed to him as if he must cry out with the pain and anguish that were in his heart. Just then, Perry tugged a little at his hand, but said nothing, only smiling upon his protector with such love and gratitude as no words could 1 express. Then, after catching a little for breath, he drew a long, peaceful sigh, and was dead. The truth did not reveal itself to Gilbert at first, and he stood with his protege's hands clinging to his, waiting for those clear eyes to open again. But chancing to THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 181 look up, he saw the tears brimming Mrs. Winterhalter's eyes, and read the truth in her face. Shaking with his pent-up pain and grief, he dropped down upon the little white cot, and tried to smother the storm of sobs in the pillow. Mrs. Brant walked quickly away, and there were only the Win- terhalters' left, and they stood a little way off till their head-boy's burst of grief had spent its first force. Then the good lady took Gilbert's hand and led him away he struggling a little at the door to go back to the study, and to one of the. great easy- chairs. She tenderly smoothed his hair, sat by his chair a little while, still holding his hand, but said not a word to stop the great sobs that shook him from head to foot. Then she went away, leaving him alone. What he endured here, in the quiet of the study, you may hardly know. It was his 182 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. first heavy grief, the first time that death had taken anything that he loved, the first time that the wings of God's angel had ever brushed so near him, overshadowing his heart with its dark wings. And the stroke had come very suddenly and unlock- ed for. When Mrs. "Wintcrhalter returned, he was still sitting in the easy-chair, his hands hid- ing his face, and did not stir or look up when she entered. Putting her hands upon his head, she said in her soft, mellow voice, " ''In my Father's house are many mansions : if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. ' ; Gilbert was silent, but the tears trickled down through his finge"rs. Then she said, her voice grTnv- ing clear and steady with every word, " ' And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you forever ; ' '* and again, " 1 1 THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 183 will not leave you comfortless : I will come to you. ' " "0, Mrs. Winterhalter," Gilbert cried then, choking so that he could hardly speak, " you don't know what the boy was to me ! " " I do know/' she said, soothingly ; " he was much nearer than a brother. You have always been his protector, and there was a different affection between you than exists between brothers. His last smile gave you unutterable thanks for it all." Gilbert wept. " And since God has taken him to Him- self," she continued, " we have no need to weep. Perry's last breath on earth was a happy one, and you have the thought to comfort you that his last year was made jp-ight and pleasant by yourself. His happi- ness lay in your power, and you have kept the trust well." "It's not that not he that I'm crying for," said Gilbert, tremulously; "it's more 184 THE LAST SUMMER AT EAIXFOED. for my own loss, I think, and that that all those happy times are past, and I can never see him again, or or hear him call me." Mr. Winterhalter came to the study-door just then to call his wife, and she went away leaving Gilbert alone again, and this time to be undisturbed till the hot, lurid dawn broke over the land. I CHAPTER XL GRIEVING FOR TWO. T was well for Gilbert Starr that heavy duties and the wants of the sick prevent- ed him from sitting down to mourn over his loss. The blow struck him heavily, and at a time when he was poorly prepared to bear it^t was good for him, therefore, that neces- sity compelled an immediate return to the cares and duties of the sick-room. So, on this ad morning, when the red light was sifting through the shutters into the dark- ened study, he began to sigh and shiver at the sight of it, remembering how the routine of weary watching and care must go on, for 185 186 THE LAST SUMMER AT RAINFORD. all that a little figure lay silent and dead in the great lonely school-room. It was a long time before ho left the easy- chair in which Jie had sat that long, long night, and rose up with a determination to go back to his work which he knew hud been left too long. It took all the energy and will of which he was possessed, to en- able him to do this. He longed to sit all day in the dark, quiet study away from all annoyance and all interruption, and have his sorrow and his mourning all to himself. But as this could not be, he tried to put down this longing and go about his duty as he ought. But this was a hard thing to do. Then he remembered poof Ray, whom he had left so low and unconscious, ari