Say and Seal, Volume I

"'Twarn't nothing but the truth, sir."

"Well—" said Mr. Linden,—"I never was afraid of the truth yet, and I don't mean to begin now. You didn't say I had cut your ears off, did you Phil?"

"I didn't say nothin' about you, sir, good or indifferent."

"That's something," said Mr. Linden with unmoved gravity. "What else did you say?"

"It was down to Neanticut, sir," said Phil—"I told Reuben Taylor as how he'd druv her down, Joe Deacon said he had; and Reuben said Joe had made a mistake. That's the hull of it, sir."

"Who is her?" said Mr. Linden.

"She—Miss Faith Derrick, sir."

Phil was getting very uncomfortably red in the face.

"Well why did you tell Miss Derrick that Reuben didn't drive her down?—would not she have been likely to know."

"I didn't, sir."

"I thought not. What did you tell her?"

"She knows what I told her!"—said Phil, looking abstractedly at the corner of the couch on which Mr. Linden lay.—"I don't know as I can recollect. But that's what Reuben said, sir."

"Well tell me as near as you can recollect—" said Mr. Linden. "And also just the words you used to Reuben."

Phil took time to reflect.

"I don't want ter," he said.

"No, I see you don't—but I want to hear them," said Mr. Linden very quietly. "But tell me the truth this time, Phil."

"Folks has a right to speak," said Phil, stating a broad proposition,—"but they hain't a right to tell all they say!"

"Well?"—said Mr. Linden, waiving that.

"'Twarn't nothin'!" said Phil—"and it 'll just make folks mad—and I durstn't—"

"Dare not repeat what you have dared to say? how is that, Phil? But my forgiveness always meets confession half way, as you know," said Mr. Linden.

"Well," said Phil, "I jest told Reuben he'd druv her down, and Reuben said Joe was mistaken. It was Joe said it first,"

"And what did you say before Dr. Harrison?"

"I said what Reuben said,"—said Phil feeling poorly.

"And what was that?"—Mr. Linden was as untireable as a minority juror.

"I said Reuben said she warn't what Joe said," Phil got out at last in a lowered tone.

"And what was that?"

"Well—" said Phil desperately—"Joe said she was—"

Mr. Linden waited. So did Phil.

"This is the house that Jack built," Mr. Linden remarked. "What did Joe say she was?"

The answer came in articulation pretty well smothered up.

"Joe said she was Mr. Linden's sweetheart."

"O!—" said Mr. Linden, with a tone Phil felt to the tips of his ears,—"that was it! I really did not know, Phil, that you and Joe took an interest in such matters. Have you had much experience?"

Phil shuffled and looked exceedingly embarrassed, but words found none.He had exhausted his stock, of more than words.

"Well!" said Mr. Linden,—"you will find, Phil, that it is generally safe to study arithmetic before you begin algebra. There's a little mistake here. Reuben did not drive anybody down to Neanticut—Mrs. Derrick drove the whole way. That explains his words. As for yours, Phil—I wish," said Mr. Linden, looking at him gravely, but gently too, "I wish I knew something you would like very much to have. Can you tell me?"

If ever in his life Phil Davids mentally stared, (physically, too) he did it now. 'Something he would like very much to have'? What could Mr. Linden want to know that for? In his confusion Phil didn't know himself. To take in Mr. Linden, all over, was all he was competent to.

"Well?" said his teacher with a smile—it was rather a faint one, for he was tired, but very pleasant still. "What is there, Phil?—I am in earnest."

"I'm sorry I said it, anyhow!" burst at last from the boy's reluctant lips. That seemed to be his ultimatum. He could see that his words gave pleasure, though they were not directly answered.

"I must send you away now," Mr. Linden said, taking his hand again. "I am not strong enough to talk any more. But Phil—if you will learn to speak the truth—so that at the end of six months you can truly say, 'I hate every false way'—I will give you then what you like,—you shall choose your own reward. I would give anything I have in the world if I could make you fear to displease God by telling a falsehood, as much as you fear to displease me by owning it!"

It was as much as Phil could do, to take his teacher's hand, and that was done more humbly than certainly any previous action of his life. Speak he could not; but so far as Mr. Linden's influence and authority were concerned that boy was conquered. Whatever he became in after times, and whatever his mates found him still,—and they were not open-mouthed in praise,—for his teacher that boy was a different boy.

On his way out of the house he chanced to pass Faith, and did so without a sign of recognition, giving her about as wide a berth as if she had been a ghost. At the door he met Dr. Harrison coming in; but the doctor perhaps did not recognize him. Once clear, Phil ran for it. And at the stair-foot the doctor found Faith.

"Dr. Harrison," she said with grave simpleness, "if you will allow me, I should like to see you dress Mr. Linden's arm. If you go to Quilipeak there will be nobody to do it,—and I think I can learn. Mother is afraid, and it would be very disagreeable to her."

"And not to you?" said the doctor.

"Not so disagreeable. I think I can do it," she answered, meeting his look steadily.

"You must not!" said he. "You were not made for such things. Could doit! I don't doubt you could do anything. But if I go, I will send Dr.Limbre in my place. There is no need for you to do disagreeable work.Now it's pleasant to me!"

"Dr. Limbre I shouldn't like to have come into the house," said Faith. "And you know he can't leave his own house now—he is sick. I will go up with you, if you please."

Dr. Harrison could but follow her, as she tripped up the stairs before him; but there is no reasonable doubt he would have sent her on some other errand if he could. Faith tapped at the door, and they entered the room together.

"How do you do?" said Dr. Harrison rather gravely, approaching the couch.

Now the fact was, that those two previous interviews had been both long and exciting; and the consequent prostration was greater than usual; so though Mr. Linden did take down the hand which covered his eyes, and did meet the doctor's look with his accustomed pleasantness, his words were few. Indeed he had rather the air of one whose mind has chosen a good opportunity to ride rampant over the prostrate flesh and blood, and who has about given up all attempts to hold the bridle. Whether Dr. Harrison perceived as much, or whether there might be some other reason, his words were also few. He addressed himself seriously to work.

"Will you permit me to introduce an apprentice?" he said, in a more commonplace way than was usual for him, as he was removing Mr. Linden's wrapper from the arm. Faith had come quietly up to the head of the couch and was standing there.

"Is not that the doctor's prerogative?"