Part 39 (2/2)
”'Did you ever think why your father sent you to school?'
”'No-o, sir.'
”'I thought so, but I'm going to tell you. He is not a rich man, Harry, but he pays me to teach you all that will help you to rise above the level of an ignorant labourer. Culture and education are as necessary to a gentleman as bread is for food. I am doing my utmost, but I cannot pour instruction down your throat any more than you can make a horse drink by leading him to the trough. Now look here, boy, with all your faults you are no coward; haven't you the pluck to get to know yourself and stop being a s.h.i.+rker? Think what that means! A fellow never to be trusted, a lazy, good-for-nothing, cowardly loafer. Remember, if you don't work, you are taking your father's money under false pretences, which is only another word for dishonesty. Think about what I've said; turn over a page and start a new chapter. You can go, and mind--I trust you.'”
”What a splendid old boy!” exclaimed Gladys. ”What did you do?”
”Do! I worked like a beaver for the balance of school life, I'd so much to make good. We shall touch the 'Stone' in a couple of----”
The sentence was never finished, for without warning, out of sight of a helping hand, Gladys and Harry skated right through a large hole, left by an ice-cutter without being marked by boughs, into ten feet of freezing water.
The shock was tremendous, but being fine swimmers they naturally struck out, trying to grasp the slippery ice.
To his horror Harry knew that his gloves were in his pocket, and now, try as he would, his hands would not grip the ice. Gladys had been entrusted to his care: not only would his life be the price of having separated from the ”Bunch,” but infinitely worse, she must share the same fate.
Despair lent him strength to support the girl with his left arm while he tried to swing his right leg over and dig the heel of his skate into the ice.
But all in vain, he tried and tried again. Numbed with cold, he felt himself growing weaker and he knew that the end could not be far off should the next attempt fail.
One more struggle--one last effort--and the skate, thank Heaven, had caught! Then came the last act. Clenching his teeth and wildly imploring help from on high, Harry gathered together his last remnant of strength, and swung the girl on to the ice--Gladys was saved!
The boy's heart beat, his panting breath seemed to suffocate him, the strain had been so fearful; now he could do no more, he seemed to make no effort to save himself.
”Harry! Harry!” cried Gladys; ”you must try more! I'm all right and can help you--see, I am here close by!” she cried, frantic with terror. ”It will be all right directly,” she added bravely as she lay flat down and crept up to the edge of the ice.
The boy heard her encouraging words, but still made no progress.
”You are not doing your best, Harry! Think of me, if not of yourself.
Remember, I am alone and so frightened. Oh! do be quick. Here, take hold of my hands.”
This time her words went home, and the boy, half-paralysed with cold and completely worn out, remembered his responsibility.
”Come along, Harry--hold hard! Yes, I can bear the weight!” called out the courageous girl as she lay in her freezing garments on the ice, the strain of the lad's weight dragging her arms almost from their sockets.
[Sidenote: Pluck Rewarded]
At last their pluck was rewarded. Heaven was good to them, and Harry Elliott, trembling in every limb, his teeth chattering, his face pale as the moon, stood by Gladys on solid ice. There was no time to waste in words, the boy merely stretched out his hand to the exhausted girl and started across the lake to the nearest house.
Not a word was spoken; they just sped onward, at first slowly and laboriously, until the blood began to circulate and progress became easier. When they reached the sh.o.r.e, they stood encased in solid ice, their wet clothes frozen stiff by the keen frost of the glorious night.
Not for some days did Gladys betray any signs of the mental shock she had received. Anxious parents and a careful doctor kept her in bed for a week, while Harry occupied his usual place at the bank.
It was during that week that the change in Gladys took place. She had plenty of time for thought. Recollections of her nearness to death, of her horror while under the ice, of her terror when saved, of seeing her brave rescuer sink, all these scenes made a deep and lasting impression on her, and she realised that life can never be made up of pleasures only.
When she met the rest of the ”Bunch,” her quietness puzzled them, her determination to go no more on the ice distressed them. But in her own heart Gladys felt that she had gained by her approach to death, for in the deadly struggle she had been brought near to G.o.d. As for Harry Elliott, need I forecast the trend of the two lives that were so nearly taken away together?
[Sidenote: Mike, the old Raven, is the central figure of this story for younger girls.]
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