Part 67 (1/2)
”Ishmael,” he continued, addressing the youth, ”your act was a generous one, certainly; whether it was a righteous one is doubtful. There is an old proverb which places 'justice before generosity.' I do not know that it does not go so far as even to inculcate justice to ourselves before generosity to our fellows. You should have been just to yourself before being generous to your friend. It only remains for us now to rectify this wrong.” Then turning to Professor Adams, he said:
”Sir, may I trouble you to take this fair copy and read it aloud?”
Professor Adams bowed in a.s.sent as he received the paper. Ishmael and Walter returned to their seats to await the proceedings.
Professor Adams arose in his place, and in a few words explained how it happened that in the case of the first thesis read to them, he had given the rough draft instead of the fair copy, which in justice to the young writer he should now proceed to read.
Now, although not half a dozen persons in that room could have perceived any difference in the two readings of a thesis written in a language of which even the alphabet was unknown known to them, yet every individual among them could keenly appreciate the magnanimity of Ishmael, who would have sacrificed his scholastic fame for his friend's benefit, and the quickness and integrity of Walter in discovering the generous ruse and refusing the sacrifice. They put their heads together whispering, nodding, and smiling approval. ”Damon and Pythias,” ”Orestes and Pylades,” were the names bestowed upon the two friends. But at length courtesy demanded that the audience should give some little attention to the reading of the Greek thesis, whether they understood a word of it or not. Their patience was not put to a long test. The reading was a matter of about fifteen minutes, and at its close the three examiners conversed together for a few moments.
And then Professor Adams arose and announced the young author of the thesis which he had just read as the successful compet.i.tor for the highest honors of the school, and requested him to come forward and be invested with the prize.
”Now it is my time to wish you joy, and to say, 'Go where glory waits you,' Ishmael!” whispered Walter, pressing his friend's hand and gently urging him from his seat.
Ishmael yielded to the impulse and the invitation, and went up to the table. Professor Adams leaned forward, threw the slender gold chain, to which the watch was attached, around the neck of Ishmael, saying:
”May this well-earned prize be the earnest of future successes even more brilliant than this.”
Ishmael bowed low in acknowledgment of the gold watch and the kind words, and amid the hearty applause of the company returned to his seat.
The business of the day was now finished, and as it was now growing late in the afternoon, the a.s.sembly broke up. The ”public” who had come only for the examination returned home. The ”friends” who had been invited to the ball repaired first to the dining room to partake of a collation, and then to chambers which had been a.s.signed them, to change their dresses for the evening.
CHAPTER x.x.xI.
ISHMAEL HEARS A SECRET FROM AN ENEMY.
Shame come to Romeo? Blistered be thy tongue For such a wis.h.!.+ He was not born to shame; Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; For 'tis a throne where honor may be crowned, Sole monarch of the universal earth!
--_Shakspere_.
In the interval the drawing room was rapidly cleared out and prepared for dancing. The staging at the upper end, which had been appropriated to the use of the examining committee, was now occupied by a band of six negro musicians, headed by the Professor of Odd Jobs. They were seated all in a row, engaged in tuning their instruments under the instructions of Morris. The room wore a gay, festive, and inviting aspect. It was brightly lighted up; its white walls were festooned with wreaths of flowers; its oak floor was polished and chalked for the dancers; and its windows were all open to admit the pleasant summer air and the perfume of flowers, so much more refres.h.i.+ng in the evening than at any other time of the day.
At a very early hour the young ladies and gentlemen of the school, whose gala dresses needed but the addition of wreaths and bouquets for the evening, began to gather in the drawing room; the girls looking very pretty in their white muslin dresses, pink sashes, and coronets of red roses; and the boys very smart in their holiday clothes, with rosebuds stuck into their b.u.t.tonholes. Ishmael was made splendid by the addition of his gold watch and chain, and famous by his success of the morning.
All the girls, and many of the boys, gathered around him, sympathizing with his triumph and complimenting him upon his abilities. Ishmael was clearly the hero of the evening; but he bore himself with an aspect half of pleasure, half of pain, until Walter Middleton approached him, and taking his arm walked him down the room, until they were out of earshot from the others, when he said:
”Now do, Ishmael, put off that distressed look and enjoy your success as you ought! Make much of your watch, my boy! I know if it were not for thoughts of me, you would enjoy the possession of it vastly--would you not, now?”
”Yes,” said Ishmael, ”I would.”
”You would not be a 'human boy,' if you didn't. I know well enough I was near losing my wits with delight in the first watch I possessed, although it was but a trumpery little silver affair! Well, now, Ishmael, enjoy your possession without a drawback. I a.s.sure you, upon record, I am very glad you got the prize. You deserved the honor more than I did, and you needed the watch more. For see here, you know I have a gold one of my own already--my mother's gift to me on my last birthday,”
continued Walter, taking out and displaying his school watch. ”Now what could I do with two? So, Ishmael, let me see you enjoy yours, or else I shall feel unhappy,” he concluded, earnestly pressing his friend's hand.
”Walter Middleton, what do you mean, sir, by stealing my thunder in that way? It is my property that you are carrying off! Ishmael is my protege, my liege subject. Bring him back, sir! I want to show his watch to my companions,” spoke the imperious voice of Miss Merlin.
”Come, Ishmael; you must make a spectacle of yourself again, I suppose, to please that little tyrant,” laughed Walter, as he turned back with his friend towards the group of young girls.
Now in this company was one who looked with the envious malignity of Satan upon the well-merited honors of the poor peasant boy. This enemy was Alfred Burghe, and he was now savagely waiting his opportunity to inflict upon Ishmael a severe mortification.
As Walter and Ishmael, therefore, approached the group of young ladies, Alfred, who was loitering near them, lying in wait for his victim, drew away with an expression of disgust upon his face, saying: