Breaking Away; or, The Fortunes of a Student, Oliver Optic [best books to read all time .txt] 📗

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Mr. Parasyte owed my uncle a large sum of money, secured by the estate and good-will of the Institute. If I was driven from the school, a majority of the boys would petition their parents to be taken from it also, and the establishment would be seriously injured. There was plainly an understanding between Mr. Parasyte and my uncle, or the tyrant would not have made war upon me as he did. Should I sacrifice myself in order to save my uncle's[126] money, or to prevent the debt from being imperilled?

No! I could not; but I hoped my uncle would not lose his money, though it would not be my fault if he did. I had just been "disowned and cast out." The sentence hardly produced an impression upon me. I was not banished from a happy home, where I had been folded in a mother's love, and had lived in the light of a father's smile; only from the home of coldness and silence; only from shelter and food, which I could easily find elsewhere.

I took the oars and pulled towards the bluff off which the Splash had sunk. It seemed to me just then that I was breaking away from all my early associations, from my home and my school, and pushing out on the great ocean of life, as my boat was upon the lake. I must go out into the world, and make for myself a name and a fortune. There was something solemn and impressive in the thought, and I rested upon my oars to follow out the idea. Breaking away! To me it was not going away, it was breaking away. There was no near and dear friend to bid me God speed on my[127] journey of life. As for my uncle, he would not have cared if I had, at that moment, been forever buried beneath the deep waters of the lake.

I was awed and solemnized by the thought that I was alone in the world. And looking up to the clear blue sky, I prayed that God would help me to keep in the path of truth and duty. I really hoped that, if I had done wrong, or was then doing wrong, I might be convicted of my error. I prayed for light. I was afraid that I had been wilful and wayward; but as I knew that I was right so far as Poodles was concerned, I could not accuse myself of obstinacy in refusing to apologize. On the whole, I was satisfied with myself, though willing to acknowledge that in some things I had rather overdone the matter.

Resuming the oars, I pulled towards the bluff. My course lay near the shore until I had passed the northerly point of Parkville, where the steamboat wharf extends a hundred feet out to the deep water of the lake. Continuing beyond this long pier, I came in sight of the Parkville Liberal Institute. As it was then the middle of the forenoon, I did not expect[128] to see any of the students; but, to my surprise, I discovered large numbers of them on the grounds between the buildings and the lake. They did not seem to be engaged in the usual sports, but were gathered in groups on various parts of the premises. Everything looked as though some important event had transpired, which the boys were busily engaged in discussing.

I was tempted to pull up towards the Institute, and ascertain what had occurred, and why the students were not in the school-room, attending to their studies; but I was fearful that my presence might do mischief, and I reluctantly continued on my way to the bluff. As nearly as I could interpret the signs, the boys were in a state of rebellion, though it was possible that Mr. Parasyte was too ill to attend to his duties, and in the present excited state of the school, had deemed it best to give the boys a holiday.

The bearings of the spot where the Splash sank had been carefully noted, after my capture, by the principal and his men, and without much difficulty I found the place. The bed of this part of the lake[129] was composed of gravel, washed down by the continual wearing away of the bluff; and as the water was clear, I could see the bottom. The Splash lay in about twenty-five feet of water—as I found by measuring with a fish-line. She sat nearly upright on her keel, and the tops of her masts were not more than a foot below the surface.

How could I coax her to the top of the water? The Splash had been father and mother to me, and I loved her. In my loneliness I wanted her companionship. It did not look like an easy task to raise her; and yet the most difficult things become easy when we hit upon the right method of doing them. The Splash was ballasted with ten fifty-sixes, each with a ring for lifting it. They were deposited on the bottom of the boat, where I could remove a portion of them when I had a large party to take out. I made up my mind, that with a long pole, having a hook on the end of it, I could fasten to the rings of the fifty-sixes, and raise them, one by one, to the surface; and when the ballast was removed, the boat would rise of herself.

Satisfied that this idea was a practical one, I[130] started for Parkville to procure the pole. As I took the oars, I discovered that one of the Institute boats, which I had not before noticed, was pulling towards me. At first I was startled, fearful that it might contain some of my tyrant's minions, sent out to capture me, and carry me back to the school. As the boat came nearer, however, I saw that it was filled with my friends, prominent among whom were Bob Hale and Tom Rush; and I lay upon my oars to await her coming.

"Good morning, Ernest; I'm glad to see you," said Bob, as the Institute boat ranged up alongside of mine.

"What is the matter at the Institute? Don't school keep to-day?" I asked, when I had returned the salutations of my friend.

"There's big news there, Ernest, you'd better believe," replied Bob, in an excited tone.

"What is it? What has happened?"

"There has been an awful row between Mr. Parasyte and Mr. Hardy, and Mr. Hardy has been discharged—that's the first thing; and the fellows won't stand it, anyhow."[131]

"What was it about?"

"We don't know. Mr. Hardy opened the school as usual at nine o'clock; but he didn't say a word to us about the troubles. A little after nine, Mr. Parasyte came in, with a black eye and a broken head. He and Mr. Hardy talked together a little while, and we saw that Parasyte was as mad as a hop. They went into the recitation-room to have it out; but in two or three minutes they returned, and Mr. Hardy said he was going to leave; but he didn't tell the reason—just bade us good by. If we had only known what the trouble was, we would have pitched Parasyte out of the window."

"Then Mr. Hardy has gone," I added.

"Left, and at once. Then Mr. Parasyte made a speech, in which he told us the school was in a state of rebellion; that Thornton had assaulted him, and struck him on the head with a heavy ruler, and that he intended to flog him till he apologized to Poodles, as his uncle wished him to do. We didn't wait to hear any more. We gave a yell, and rushed out of the school-room."[132]

CHAPTER XII. IN WHICH ERNEST RAISES THE SPLASH, AND THERE IS A GENERAL BREAKING AWAY AMONG THE STUDENTS.

I listened, with astonishment and dismay, to the tale which Bob Hale told me. I could not help asking myself to what extent I was responsible for the troubles which overwhelmed the Parkville Liberal Institute. I told Bob how I felt, and he ridiculed the idea of my shouldering any portion of the blame.

"Even the parson says you are not to blame, and that you have behaved like a gentleman from the beginning," said he, alluding to Henry Vallington, who, on account of his intended profession, often went by the name of the "parson."

"Can you imagine why Mr. Hardy was discharged?" I asked.[133]

"We don't know; but it is easy enough to see that he blamed Mr. Parasyte, though he never said a word to the fellows. The idea of staying at the Institute after Mr. Hardy goes is not to be thought of," replied Bob, who, like myself, was a day scholar at the school. "What did Parasyte mean when he said your uncle wished him to flog you into subjection?"

"He meant that; my uncle told him to do so," I replied, with shame and mortification, not for myself, but for him who should have been my guardian and protector.

"Did he, though? Well, that was amiable of him," added Tom Rush. "He and Parasyte will do to go together."

"They do go together. I find that Mr. Parasyte owes my uncle a large sum of money. I had no idea that they were even acquainted with each other before," I continued.

"Then I wonder that Parasyte made a row with you, if he owed your uncle so much money."

"I don't understand it; but I think Mr. Parasyte didn't expect any trouble. He judged hastily be[134]tween Poodles and me, and when he had given his decision, he was too proud and too obstinate to alter it. I suppose he was a little afraid after what he had done, and went to see my uncle and ask for instructions."

"But it was cold-blooded for your uncle to say what he did."

"Probably Parasyte told his own story," I replied, willing to shield my uncle as much as possible.

"What did your uncle say to you when you went home?" asked Bob Hale, full of interest and sympathy.

"We had some words, and he disowned and cast me out—to use his own expression."

"Turned you out of house and home!" exclaimed Tom Rush.

"That was what he meant."

"Don't mind it, Ernest," interposed Bob. "You shall come to my house."

"I can take care of myself, I think," was my reply, rather proudly spoken.

"Of course you can; but you shall have half my bed and half my dinner as long as I have any."

"Thank you, Bob."[135]

"We will talk that over another time, Ernest; for at present we have a big job on our hands."

"What is that?"

"We'll tell you by and by. Parasyte says you assaulted him, and hit him over the head with a big ruler. How was that, Ernest?"

I told them what had occurred after we left the school-room, and gave them all the particulars of my battle with the principal.

"Served him right," was the verdict of the boys. "He didn't tell us that he attempted to flog you; only that you pitched into him, apparently without any cause or reason," added Tom Rush.

"You all ran out of school," said I. "What is Mr. Parasyte going to do about it?"

"We don't know, and we don't care. He is a tyrant, and a toady; and all but about a dozen of the fellows are going to quit the school."

"But where are you going?" I asked, surprised at this decided step.

"We have it all arranged, and are going to break away in a bunch. We are getting things ready; but we want you, Ernest."[136]

"Why me?"

"Because you are a good sailor, and know all about boats?"

That was highly complimentary in a direction where I was peculiarly weak—my love of boats and boating. Bob Hale then informed me that the students were going into camp on their own hook this year. This was an annual institution at the academy. Belonging to the Institute were seven tents, large enough to accommodate all the boys and all the teachers; and in the month of July the whole school camped out for one or two weeks. This custom did more for the popularity of the Institute than anything else, and without it, it was doubtful if the school could have been kept together; for it was an offset to the dislike with which a large majority of the boys regarded the principal.

The students had begun to talk about camping out as soon as the spring opened, and when the rebellion broke out, it immediately ran into this channel. The camp during the preceding year had been in a piece of woods ten miles east of Parkville; but