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Updated: June 4, 2025
He had enjoyed his ride to town and back; he had slept soundly under the lee of a haystack; and he had washed his face and hands in the horse-trough at the foot of Sudbury Hill. And the certainty that Desmond was safe, that in the end he, John, had triumphed over Scaife, filled his soul with joy.
The action, the expression in the eyes, were unmistakable. John understood, as plainly as if Scaife had spoken, that silence, where expulsion impended, was not only expedient but imperative. Kinloch crept out of the room. Rutford examined Scaife, who feigned insensibility. Then he addressed Lawrence. "Go to Lovell's room, Lawrence, and institute a thorough search.
The floor and the galleries were crowded, and the space allotted to ladies there was no grating in New Lindsey, as Eleanor Scaife had already recorded in her note-book was bright with gay colours. Sir Robert and Mr. Kilshaw slipped into their places just in time to see Medland stoop down to Norburn, who sat next him, and whisper to him.
Bat meets ball with a smack which echoes from the Tennis-Court to the stands across the ground. Now watch Scaife! He dashes at top speed for the only point where his hands may intercept that hard-hit ball. And, by Heaven! he stops it, and flicks it up to the wicket-keeper, who chips off the bails. "How's that?" "Not out!" "Well fielded; well fielded, sir!"
I've not a bad collection," the Duffer murmured modestly. "And the gem of it," said Scaife, "is Billington's, the hangman! The Duffer shivers whenever he looks at it." "Yes, I do," said Duff, grinning horribly. After supper and Prayers, John went to bed, but not to sleep for at least an hour. He lay awake, thinking over the events of this memorable day.
Then a glance at his face somehow brought sudden illumination, and the illumination brought such a shock that Lady Eynesford was startled into vulgar directness of speech. "Good gracious! Surely it is Eleanor you come after?" she exclaimed. "Miss Scaife! What made you think that? Surely you've seen that it's Miss Derosne who " "Mr. Coxon!"
Scaife, alone of those present, appreciated the order in which his schoolfellows had been named. Egerton known as the Caterpillar was the son of a Guardsman; Lovell's father was a judge; Duff's father an obscure parson. The duchess shook hands with each boy. "Your father and I are old friends," she said to Egerton; "and I have had the pleasure of meeting your uncle," she smiled at John.
"All the same, we can't call either the Duffer or Fluff David, can we?" "I was not thinking of Kinloch or Duff," said Scaife, staring hard at John. And John alone knew that Scaife read him like a book, in which he was contemptuously amused nothing more. After that, as if Scaife's will were law, the others called John Jonathan.
The Head of the House eyed him sharply. "Kinloch?" No answer. "Kinloch?" Scaife answered dryly: "Kinloch's portmanteau has come." Then Dumbleton said in his smooth, bland voice, "His lordship is in the drawing-room with Mr. Rutford." The boys exchanged knowing glances. Scaife looked contemptuous. The next moment the last name had been called, and the boys scurried into the passages.
"If our fears are well founded," he said solemnly, "may God give you strength, John Verney, to bear the blow." Then he tore open the envelope and read the truth "Henry Desmond killed in action." "No," said John, fiercely. "It is Scaife, Scaife!" Warde shook his head, holding John's hand tight between his sinewy fingers. John's face appalled him.
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