Glengarry Schooldays [7]
tell, and that would be too awful to bear.
"Do, Ranald," pleaded Hughie. "I'll not tell."
"I am not so sure."
"Sure as death!"
Still Ranald hesitated. Hughie grew desperate.
"God may kill me on the spot!" he cried, using the most binding of all oaths known to the boys. This was satisfactory, and Ranald went.
But Hughie was not skilled in deceiving, and especially in deceiving his mother. They were great friends, and Hughie shared all his secrets with her and knew that they were safe, unless they ought to be told. And so, when he caught sight of his mother waiting for him before the door, he left Ranald, and thrilling with the memory of the awful peril through which he had passed, rushed at her, and crying, "Oh, mother!" he flung himself into her arms. "I am so glad to see you again!"
"Why, Hughie, my boy, what's the matter?" said his mother, holding her arms tight about him. "And you are all wet! What is it?" But Hughie held her fast, struggling with himself.
"What is it?" she asked again, turning to Ranald.
"We were running pretty fast--and it is a hot day--and--" But the clear gray-brown eyes were upon him, and Ranald found it difficult to go on.
"Oh, mother, you mustn't ask," cried Hughie; "I promised not to tell."
"Not to tell me, Hughie?" The surprise in the voice was quite too much for Hughie.
"Oh, mother, we did not want to frighten you--and--I promised."
"Then you must keep your promise. Come away in, my boy. Come in, Ranald."
It was her boy's first secret from her. Ranald saw the look of pain in the sweet face, and could not endure it.
"It was just nothing, Mrs. Murray," he began.
"Did you promise, too, Ranald?"
"No, that I did not. And there is nothing much to tell, only Hughie fell into the Deepole and the boys pulled him out!"
"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Hughie, "it was Ranald. He jumped right down from the tree right into the water, and kept me up. You told yourself, Ranald," he continued, delighted to be relieved of his promise; and on he went to give his mother, in his most picturesque style, a description of the whole scene, while Ranald stood looking miserable and ashamed.
"And Ranald was ashamed for me to tell you, and besides, he said you wouldn't let me go to the Deepole again. But you will, won't you mother? And you won't tell father, will you?"
The mother stood listening, with face growing whiter and whiter, till he was done. Then she stooped down over the eager face for some moments, whispering, "My darling, my darling," and then coming to Ranald she held her hand on his shoulder for a moment, while she said, in a voice bravely struggling to be calm, "God reward you, Ranald. God grant my boy may always have so good and brave a friend when he needs."
And from that day Ranald's life was different, for he had bound to him by a tie that nothing could ever break, a friend whose influence followed him, and steadied and lifted him up to greatness, long after the grave had hidden her from men's sight.
CHAPTER III
THE EXAMINATION
The two years of Archibald Munro's regime were the golden age of the school, and for a whole generation "The Section" regarded that period as the standard for comparison in the following years. Munro had a genius for making his pupils work. They threw themselves with enthusiasm into all they undertook--studies, debate nights, games, and in everything the master was the source of inspiration.
And now his last examination day had come, and the whole Section was stirred with enthusiasm for their master, and with grief at his departure.
The day before examination was spent in "cleaning the school." This semi-annual event, which always preceded the examination, was almost as enjoyable as the examination day itself, if indeed it was not more so. The school met in the morning for a final polish for the morrow's recitations. Then after a speech by the master the little ones were dismissed and allowed to go home though they never by any chance took advantage of this permission. Then the master
"Do, Ranald," pleaded Hughie. "I'll not tell."
"I am not so sure."
"Sure as death!"
Still Ranald hesitated. Hughie grew desperate.
"God may kill me on the spot!" he cried, using the most binding of all oaths known to the boys. This was satisfactory, and Ranald went.
But Hughie was not skilled in deceiving, and especially in deceiving his mother. They were great friends, and Hughie shared all his secrets with her and knew that they were safe, unless they ought to be told. And so, when he caught sight of his mother waiting for him before the door, he left Ranald, and thrilling with the memory of the awful peril through which he had passed, rushed at her, and crying, "Oh, mother!" he flung himself into her arms. "I am so glad to see you again!"
"Why, Hughie, my boy, what's the matter?" said his mother, holding her arms tight about him. "And you are all wet! What is it?" But Hughie held her fast, struggling with himself.
"What is it?" she asked again, turning to Ranald.
"We were running pretty fast--and it is a hot day--and--" But the clear gray-brown eyes were upon him, and Ranald found it difficult to go on.
"Oh, mother, you mustn't ask," cried Hughie; "I promised not to tell."
"Not to tell me, Hughie?" The surprise in the voice was quite too much for Hughie.
"Oh, mother, we did not want to frighten you--and--I promised."
"Then you must keep your promise. Come away in, my boy. Come in, Ranald."
It was her boy's first secret from her. Ranald saw the look of pain in the sweet face, and could not endure it.
"It was just nothing, Mrs. Murray," he began.
"Did you promise, too, Ranald?"
"No, that I did not. And there is nothing much to tell, only Hughie fell into the Deepole and the boys pulled him out!"
"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Hughie, "it was Ranald. He jumped right down from the tree right into the water, and kept me up. You told yourself, Ranald," he continued, delighted to be relieved of his promise; and on he went to give his mother, in his most picturesque style, a description of the whole scene, while Ranald stood looking miserable and ashamed.
"And Ranald was ashamed for me to tell you, and besides, he said you wouldn't let me go to the Deepole again. But you will, won't you mother? And you won't tell father, will you?"
The mother stood listening, with face growing whiter and whiter, till he was done. Then she stooped down over the eager face for some moments, whispering, "My darling, my darling," and then coming to Ranald she held her hand on his shoulder for a moment, while she said, in a voice bravely struggling to be calm, "God reward you, Ranald. God grant my boy may always have so good and brave a friend when he needs."
And from that day Ranald's life was different, for he had bound to him by a tie that nothing could ever break, a friend whose influence followed him, and steadied and lifted him up to greatness, long after the grave had hidden her from men's sight.
CHAPTER III
THE EXAMINATION
The two years of Archibald Munro's regime were the golden age of the school, and for a whole generation "The Section" regarded that period as the standard for comparison in the following years. Munro had a genius for making his pupils work. They threw themselves with enthusiasm into all they undertook--studies, debate nights, games, and in everything the master was the source of inspiration.
And now his last examination day had come, and the whole Section was stirred with enthusiasm for their master, and with grief at his departure.
The day before examination was spent in "cleaning the school." This semi-annual event, which always preceded the examination, was almost as enjoyable as the examination day itself, if indeed it was not more so. The school met in the morning for a final polish for the morrow's recitations. Then after a speech by the master the little ones were dismissed and allowed to go home though they never by any chance took advantage of this permission. Then the master