Chapter XI

A DIFFICULT MOMENT. MILES' STORY—(continued).

THE advice my mother gave me that afternoon was uncommonly wise advice, and the very best that could have been given, I do believe; and yet it isn't always possible to follow out to the letter what seems wise advice.

I went back to The Myrtles that evening, fully resolved that I would do my best to keep smooth with everybody, and would give no offence; and after all I had to give great offence, only the very next day.

On second thoughts, though, it was not going contrary to my mother's advice: for what she had said and fully meant was that I should not give real cause for offence, not just cause, and this could not be called just or real cause, for my duty to Mr. Laurence had of course to stand first.

On Monday evening Mr. Laurence had an engagement which would keep him away till past ten o'clock. When he was starting he gave me a long list of names that he wanted to have copied out. "They are hard names, and so you will have to be very careful not to make mistakes," he said. "Let me see how well you can do it, Miles." Then he told me to sit in the museum if I liked, and to spend part of the time in reading the last book he had lent me. I had been in the afternoon for a good walk on an errand for him.

I was never a boy who minded being alone and quiet, and I think the love of quiet was growing with the love of study.

After he was gone, I took my things to the little table in the museum, and worked steadily at the copying, which was not very easy, because all the words were new to me, and I had to, spell them carefully. I spoilt one sheet and began over again; and I was half-way through, when there came a smart rap at the door.

In a moment I jumped up and went to see who it was; but before I could reach the door it was thrown open, and the housemaid, Rose, came in, giggling, with the under-gardener, Will, behind her.

"I told you he'd be here," said she. "Look! isn't it a concern! What a lot of old bones!"

It took me by surprise her walking in so suddenly, for I knew well that nobody was ever allowed there without leave; and almost before I knew what I was going to say, I asked, "Did Mr. Laurence say you might come?"

Rose turned round and mimicked me, with her head on one side. She was a pretty girl; and Will, who was a great lanky awkward fellow, roared with laughter.

"Did Mr. Laurence say we might come?" said she, in an affected voice. "O dear me! the innocence of the youth! Just hear him, Will! Why, dear me, no!" she went on, when Will had roared again. "Who ever would think of asking Mr. Laurence, while the mighty Mr. Miles Murchison was sitting here in state! It is enough to ask him, any day!" She dropped a mock curtsey as she spoke. "Please, Mr. Miles Murchison, will you let your humble servants take a look round?"

"I can't do it, Rose," I said, straight out, though I was worried. "You know I can't; I'm put here in charge, and Mr. Laurence forbids any one to come in without his leave. I can't give it."

"Hear him. Will! The innocent child! 'I can't give it.'"

She mimicked me again, cleverly enough, and my face got as red as fire, for Will shouted afresh.

"Come, we'll take a look," said she, in a daring sort of voice, and she walked to the middle table and picked up a fossil bone that was lying there. "What's this?" said she. "We're poor ignorant creatures— ain't we, Will?—don't know nothing at all about such things! Couldn't the learned Mr. Miles Murchison teach us?"

It was a great temptation to me to give in. No boy of fifteen likes to be laughed at; nor to make enemies; nor to have to stand alone. For one moment I was tempted. Mr. Laurence was away for another hour or more, I thought, and if I did let them stay a few minutes they would not do any mischief, and nobody would know. It was not likely that they would tell of themselves.

But I am glad to say this temptation had power only for one moment. Then I remembered that I was in charge, and that I was upon honour; that I had to do my employer's will, and to prove myself trustworthy. Whether they liked it or did not like it made no difference at all. They were in the wrong, and if I yielded to them I should be in the wrong too.

I went after Rose, and I said—

"Rose, if you and Will stay, I shall have to tell Mr. Laurence."

"You will!" said she, turning sharp round to face me.

"I shall have to," I said.

"Then you're a pitiful miserable sneak!" said she. "Take that!" and she gave me a smart box on the ear with her hand, which was not by any means a soft one.

My ear tingled, and my temper tingled more, for I hadn't been used to that sort of thing; but still the main thought with me was how to get rid of them both, and to prove myself trustworthy. Almost without thought I found myself saying again—

"If you don't both go this minute, I'll tell Mr. Laurence as soon as ever he comes back."

"Very well; we'll go," said she. "You sneak! I'll never speak to you again!"—and she looked as if she meant it. "Come, Will, 'tisn't worth staying for, after all."

She turned round with such a whisk, in her anger, that she bounced up against Will, and sent him staggering against the nearest case of stuffed birds; and between them they gave it such a shake that a small plaster head, standing on the top, fell with a crash and broke across at the neck.

"Bother!" said she. "That's like your clumsiness, Will. What a plague!"

Before I could stop her she picked up the two pieces and set the head on the neck.

"Oh, that's all right! It doesn't show. Mr. Laurence won't see it for weeks, you may be sure. Come along, Will," and she went off, not giving me a look. But just outside the door she turned back and glared at me, and her eyes didn't look pretty then. "Mind," she said, "if you let slip one word of this to Mr. Laurence, you won't stay long in the house. I'll see to that, I promise. If you tell one tale, Will and I'll tell another—and that will be two to one. So you just take care."

She was gone before I could answer, and I shut and locked the door, but I heard them talking loudly in the passage for some minutes.

Well, I cannot say I was not angry too as well as puzzled and dismayed. Should I, or should I not, tell Mr. Laurence about the breakage? If I'd done it myself I would never have thought of hiding it; but I didn't see how I was to tell without blaming others. Yet if I said nothing, and he found it out late; as he was pretty sure to do, how could he ever be sure of me again?

As for Rose's threats, I gave little thought to them. Of course I knew that anybody has power to harm anybody else if bent upon it; but I minded much more being called "a sneak." Still, if it came in the way of my duty, better far to be called "a sneak" than to be untrue.

My hand was not steady enough for writing for some minutes, for I had been not a little flustered. It was the first time I had ever had in my life to make such a stand against people older than myself; yet I was glad I had made it, and had not given in. I finished the copying by half-past nine, and then to my surprise the bell rang, which showed me that Mr. Laurence was in his study. As I was going I took down the broken plaster head, carrying the two pieces with me.

Mr. Laurence looked up from his desk, and when he saw what was in my hands, he said—

"I am very sorry, sir," I said, thinking that I wouldn't tell more than was needful.

He took both pieces from me and examined them.

"How did it happen, Miles?"

"The case had a shake, sir, and it tumbled down."

"You must be more careful. Quite right to let me know at once."

Then, just as I thought all was straight, he asked—

"Did you do it yourself?"

I made no answer, and he looked straight at me.

"How did the thing happen, my boy?"

I felt myself getting as red as fire again.

"Something not explained yet, eh? Have you been doing anything you are ashamed of, Miles?"

"No, sir."

"That's decisive, at all events. Then has somebody else?"

"If you wouldn't mind, sir—please—not asking me," I said. "It was an accident, and I don't think it will happen again. I'll take care. I will really."

"Yes, I think you will," Mr. Laurence said slowly; "I am sure you will. If you had done as Rose told you, and not mentioned the breakage, I should not have felt so confident as now. But you have done well all through; first, in refusing them admittance; then, in not concealing the accident. You have proved yourself trustworthy, Miles."

I was so amazed to find how much he knew that I could take no pleasure in his words of praise; and I must have stared. He did not smile; he only said—

"I came home earlier than I intended."

Then he must have seen or heard with his own eyes and ears. Well, it was not my fault; but I knew I should be blamed, and I couldn't help being sorry.

Mrs. Crane was out that evening with friends, and I had had my supper early, for somebody's convenience. I didn't see the rest till prayer-time, and then I only had askance looks. Coming out I overheard Matilda, the parlour-maid, say something about Mr. Laurence getting home early, and Rose said, in a scared tone—

"What time? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why should I?" Matilda asked. "Mr. Laurence just let himself in with his latchkey and went straight to the study. Some time between half-past eight and nine."

I knew what that meant, and Rose knew too; but all the same, she tossed her head with a sneer when I went by.

Next morning Mr. Laurence had Rose and Will into his study, an uncommon thing, as he left the maids to Mrs. Crane generally, and the under-gardeners to Andrews. Mrs. Crane was present, but he spoke himself to them, and he dismissed them both, with a month's wages each. He'd been actually passing outside the open door of the museum, at the moment that Rose boxed my ear; and when they talked so loud afterwards in the passage, he was in the library, and could hear every word. He told them all this quite plainly: and he told them too that he had questioned me, and that I had not let out about them. Then he rebuked them strongly for their deceit and disobedience, and their trying to lead me astray; and he said he wouldn't have them in the house another night. Rose cried her eyes out, and Will looked wretched; but nothing could move Mr. Laurence. He could put up with dulness and stupidity, but the one thing he never would stand was deceit, or a person doing differently behind his back from before his face.

They were both gone before night: and it was long before I heard of them again. All these particulars leaked out slowly. Mr. Laurence did not refuse to give them some sort of a character, but he said he must explain about what had passed, and would advise any future master or mistress to keep a sharp look-out upon them both. Seems to me, he couldn't honourably do anything else.

My position in the house was, in some respects, better after that evening. I had shown that I would do my duty, and that I could hold my own; and nobody dared to meddle with me. But I couldn't help seeing how I was dislike by Mrs. Crane and Matilda; and if it had not been for Mr. Laurence's great kindness, I should have felt sometimes very dull and even unhappy.