Through the Breakers. A novel

Chapter I

Reginald A'Bear followed his conductor, and soon found himself in the same room in which Forester and O'Connor had been examined on the previous day, and in the presence of the authorities, presided over by General •, the Governor of the Academy. It was a painful position for all parties, more especially as General had known his grandfather, Col. A'Bear, in former days ; indeed Reginald had been to his house occa sionally during his two years sojourn at Woolhurst ; and as the old officer gazed at VOL. II. B THROUGH THE BREAKERS. the grandson of his friend and companion in arms, standing before him with downcast eyes, looking in his degradation as though he would have liked the earth to have opened and swal lowed him up, a tear glistened for a moment in his eye. Recovering himself, however, immediately, he motioned the boy to a seat, for though it might be deeply painful to his feel ings, he only knew of one word in such a case, and that was "duty."

Indeed, the very fear of being suspected of favouritism, made his manner perhaps even sterner than usual. "I need not," he began, "tell you the reason of your being brought before us this morning, you know it too well ; and there is apparently no doubt whatever of your guiltiness in the matter. The statement which I have before me says that you fell down after the evening service, on Sunday last, in a state of such complete intoxication that you were unable to rise. I presume that you will not attempt to deny it ? " " No," answered Reginald, in a low but distinct voice ; for now that the dreaded ex amination had really commenced, his courage was beginning to rise again. " I am glad," the governor continued, " to find that you do not attempt to prevaricate; and so make matters worse. I hope you may there fore be induced to tell the whole truth, how it was that you managed to get into such a state ; for during the time that I have been governor here I never remember any cadet making a more public and worse exhibition of himself."

Reginald at once commenced the painful recital of his temptation and fall, neither ex aggerating his companions' guilt, nor lessen ing his own, and omitting nothing except the names ; and a gleam of honest satisfaction passed over the face of O'Connor's compatriot as he noticed how exactly the account tallied with that which they had received the day before. When he began the same sad story, in a low but distinct voice, his eyes were cast upon the floor; but as the very act of confession seemed to take some part of THROUGH THE BREAKERS. the burden from off his mind, he was able before the finish to lift his head, and look the governor bravely in the face. " You mean to say, then, that you went out with no intention of drinking before your return ?" asked the captain. " No, I have told you the simple truth," he replied.

" You are sure that you did not make any agreement with the other cadets you mention to meet you during the afternoon's walk ?" " No, we met quite accidentally, " he answered. " But who was it that first proposed the adjournment to the public-house ?" " I can only say again, what I have already told you, that it was one of those whom I met, and that I went entirely against my own wishes." " But how are we to know that you were not the tempter instead of the tempted ?" he rejoined, " supposing that we have nothing but your bare word to go upon; and, of course, you must understand that, owing to your conduct on Sunday last, your word will not carry the same weight as it would have borne a week ago." This somewhat unnecessary taunt, which was rather cruel (but then, even good men do rather cruel things sometimes from a sense of duty) made the blood of all the A'Bears to tingle in his veins, and forgetting for a moment his degradation, the boy raised his head proudly, and, while his eyes flashed, said — " I know that I have done wrong, grievous wrong; but I would not tell a .lie — no — not to save myself from any amount of punishment.

I have never been in a public-house on Sunday before in my life, and was never in such a state before. It all happened just as I said. I cannot tell you the names of those who were with me, so I must bear all the blame — but I could not tell a lie, indeed I could not." The officers composing the court then re tired into a small octagonal room, leading out of the one in which they were sitting, and after a short consultation, determined that it was of no use to prolong his examination ; and on their return, the governor addressing Regi nald, said — " You will be glad to learn that there is no need for us to press you to give up the names of your companions, as one of them has most nobly come forward and confessed that it was he • who tempted you on Sunday afternoon to enter a public house " )> Reginald heard no more.

The exhortation which followed might as well have been left un said, for he only waited impatiently until it was finished, and then eagerly and earnestly ex claimed, " Oh, sir, please tell me who it was ? " " There can be no reason for keeping the name from him," urged the youngest lieu tenant. " Oh, no ; none in the least," answered the senior officer, "the name is Charles O'Connor." He was then dismissed, and was soon again in the cell, his mind harassed by a tumult of mingled feelings. He walked for some time impatiently, again and again, up and down the little room, for those words were still ringing in his ears, " the name is Charles O'Connor." The estrangement of the past few months, and the part which his old friend had acted on the previous Sunday were all forgotten, and he was once again " the Charlie " of the first days of their friendship, who had now so nobly come forward, heedless of consequences, to save him.

Oh, how bitterly he had wronged him by unjust suspicions at the very time, perhaps, when he was making his confession, sacrificing himself in order to save him. How he longed to see him, and tell all, and ask his forgiveness. Such was the nature of his selfaccusations ; for all the generous impulses of his own heart had been moved to their very source by the knowledge of O'Connor's noble and disinterested conduct. " I always knew that he had a good heart at bottom," he said to himself, "there are not many fellows who would have done it; at any rate we shall always be friends again now." That thought seemed to do away with much of the misery of his situation ; for while there is no sting more sharp than " friend remembered not," there are few joys more pure and real than to find that one for whom you have a real feel ing of affection has proved that he recipro cates it by being a friend in need.

After a time, however, his thoughts turned back again upon himself and his own condition. " It is indeed hard," he thought, " that I should be treated as a drunkard, just for one offence, and my word doubted, too." Wbat his sentence would be he hardly dared to contemplate. Possibly expulsion, but he hoped not. O'Connor's confession would surely save him at any rate from that. Still, several cadets had been lately dismissed, or obliged to be withdrawn from the Academy for exactly similar offences, and why should be expect any better fate ? But then, again, this was the first serious offence since his en trance into Woolhurst, and that would tell in his favour ; and so he was sometimes full of hope, and sometimes full of despair, as either thought was uppermost in his mind. O'Connor's feelings were much the same as his friend's during that oft-remembered week, for he longed to see him, and ask for his forgiveness.

Still he had the satisfaction of knowing that, however much he might have been to blame in the first instance, he had done his best since to make amends, and felt that his honourable conduct had brought its own reward with it. His arrest sat upon him lightly enough, for although the having to turn out to drill at an early hour was not altogether pleasant, and the feeling of being obliged to stay in the same room was irksome and disagreeable, especially to one who had a keen love of freedom, and was impatient of restraint at any time ; yet, otherwise, it was not very burdensome. Any possible feelings of loneliness were prevented by a constant succession of cadets who came to discuss with him A'Bear's probable fate ; and his hopes were much raised when he found that it was the universal opinion that he would not be dismissed.

At last the expected but dreaded day came, and on Friday morning the message was brought to Reginald that immediately after breakfast he was to be re leased, and that the letter from the Master of Ordnance would be read at the morning parade, immediately after class hours. He was, as may be supposed, but a short time over his breakfast, and after throwing the remainder on to the roof for the little comforter of his prison hours, found himself once again in the Quadrangle ; and he thought that the blue sky above his head had never looked so blue before, nor the air felt so fresh, as it did that minute. The other cadets had not yet come out from breakfast, and when he arrived at his own room, finding from the servant that O'Connor was under arrest, and therefore would be unable to come to see him at once, after hastily brushing his clothes, made the best of his way over to the first division, and reached it just in time to avoid meeting the main body of cadets, who at that moment were leaving the hall.

O'Connor, not knowing that Reginald was waiting for him, walked slowly enough to his room, and was only less astonished than glad to find him waiting. " Charlie ! " " Reginald ! " were all the words they could utter, as they clasped one another by the hand ; and then, Reginald, who had thought over what he should say, exclaimed — " Oh, Charlie, will you forgive me ?" " Forgive you ?" broke in O'Connor, not allowing him to finish the sentence, " forgive you, for what I should like to know ? No, it is I who need forgiveness — I, who was the tempter and did the devil's work." "Ah, but you don't know," Reginald THEOUGH THE BEEAKEES. quickly replied, " what unjust thoughts I had of you at the very moment, perhaps, when you were making your confession in order to save me." " The wonder would have been, if you had thought any otherwise," he answered, " after my conduct during the last six months ; and as to making a clean breast of it, that is no credit to me whatever, for if I had gone through such another twelve hours as I did on Sunday night, they would have had to have found a straight waistcoat for me before Tuesday morning."

Just then some other cadets came into the room, and for the next five minutes, as the news quickly spread, there was nothing for it but to endure much shaking of the hands, and many congratulations on his deliverance from durance vile ; a second edition of which had to be undergone as soon as he had reached his own room again. But the two friends were very glad that no one had been present at their first interview, and that THR0UQH THE BREAKERS. 13 they had thus been able to speak without reserve. Friday was devoted to drawing, and though it was one of his favourite studies, but little progress was made by Reginald A'Bear. Drawing requires a steady hand, which he had not that morning, and whatever the reality of his sentence might be, he felt that it could not be much worse than the lingering torture of suspense beforehand.

At length the class was over, and with a heavy heart he left the room to get ready for the parade, and shortly afterwards was standing in the ranks of his company, on the ground just in front of the library. When the inspec tion was over, the words of command were given, " Form four deep ; to the right face," and then, company by company, the whole body of cadets were marched into the library, where they stood in the form of a hollow square, facing inwards, with the governor and other officers of the Academy in the centre. After a few moments of breathless suspense, the names of A'Bear and O'Connor were called, and they came out of the ranks, and having saluted the governor, stood side by side in the centre of the room. The words of General before the report was read from the Master of the Ordnance were few, but to the point : — " The last time we met together here on a similar occasion, was, I am sorry to say, owing to a like offence, viz., drunkenness.

We had hoped that the punishment then inflicted might have proved a sufficient warn ing to you all, but it seems not ; and it has been a matter of deep concern and regret to the authorities to have another case brought before them so immediately ; where, besides A'Bear and O'Connor, the evidence goes to prove that more of you were implicated in the matter. Now, I need hardly tell you, leaving alone all consideration of its sinful ness, that drunkenness is a glaring vice in the British army, and it is most necessary, there fore, that officers should set a good example to their men in this respect. No man who cannot command himself, is fit to be an officer; for, until he has learnt to govern himself and have a proper respect for his own character, he is certainly not fitted to com mand the men under him, or to obtain their respect."

And then, turning to the two boys, the old man continued," It is very sad indeed, to see you, who are both the sons and grand sons of officers, brought before us on this occasion, more especially as one of you has hitherto obtained the highest character in the Academy, both for conduct and ability." He paused a moment, and then addressing A'Bear more particularly, said — " Still, we are very glad to find that though you have fallen in one way, you have not lost the principles of truth and honour, and this has made us hope that the lesson which you have now received may be a warning to you both for the rest of your life ; and it is to this fact — the fact that you have told the truth in the matter, and to our belief that it is your first offence of the sort, and to the honourable conduct of O'Connor in coming forward, that you owe the mitigation of your punishment, which would otherwise have been expulsion.

And with regard to you, O'Connor, you have lately caused us much uneasiness, and, by your own confession, you were, in this instance, the tempter. Your confession, however, could only have been prompted by honourable motives, and gives us hopes that you may determine to act very differently for the future." He then stepped back, and the captain coming forward, read the report from the Master of the Ordnance, concluding with the sentence of punishment : — " That gentleman cadet, Reginald A'Bear, was to lose his rank of head of a room, to be sent home for the rest of the term, and on his return after Christmas was to take his place at the bottom of the class." " That gentleman cadet, Charles Heffernan O'Connor was to be sent down to the bottom of the class, to be under arrest for a month, and not to be allowed to go out of bounds for the remainder of the term."

Poor Reginald had buoyed himself up to hope for a more lenient sentence, and when he learnt that he would have to leave Wool hurst for a time, he turned deadly pale, and everything swam around him, while instinc tively he took hold of O'Connor's arm for support. With the assistance of one of the lieutenants, O'Connor led him to a chair, opened his coat, and took off his stock ; and when he came round again, which was almost immediately, the rest of the cadets were already marching out. O'Connor had soon to follow, but not before he had shaken Reginald once again by the hand, whispering at the same time — " Never mind, old fellow, it will only be for a few months." When he had gone, the old general came over to him, and now that his stern duties were passed, spoke kindly enough to the poor VOL. II. o boy, more especially as he saw how deeply the disgrace of his punishment had affected him.

He said that he had received a letter from his uncle Ralph that morning, who would be at the Paddington station at five o'clock that same afternoon to meet him ; and tried to cheer him up by showing how very leniently the authorities had dealt with him ; that if he would be wise for the future, and would make the best use of his time whilst at home, there was no reason that his after position should be in the least affected by his punishment ; for although he would have to take his position at the bottom of the class at the commencement of the next term, he would have the same chance as any one else of coming out at the top of the list at the end. Reginald thanked him, but it seemed at the same time very poor consolation. It was not the punishment itself or the loss of position which had affected him, but the disgrace ; to be sent down from the Academy for drinking, and to be pointed out in the future as a drunkard (for of course he could not explain the whole matter to every one) was what he dreaded ; and all the way up to, and passing through London, forgetting what an insignificant unit he was amid its many thousands, it seemed that every one he met must know his history.

However, there was nothing for it but to go and pack, which he commenced with a heavy heart, with the assistance and commiseration of the servant. When he passed the common, the cadets were going through evolutions with the guns. He looked at them for a moment, and then leant back in the cab for fear that any one should recognize him. At the station he met the young lieutenant who had been a member of the court of inquiry, and was walking on the platform with a friend. He at once came up to him and said — " I am so glad to have met you, as I wish to say that I think both you and O'Connor have acted most nobly in the matter, most nobly indeed; and I am sure that we need have no fear of either of you being ever engaged in any such affair again;" and those few words from the generous-minded and sympathizing young officer reached Regi nald's heart.

At the Paddington station he found his uncle Ralph in a very angry state of mind, not with him, but with the authorities of Woolhurst, and thinking that " it was a great shame that they had acted so harshly (as he considered it) to his nephew. That they should either have believed O'Connor's con fession or not — if they believed it, they should not have punished Reginald at all. Talk about discipline — discipline be hanged ! discipline could never be improved by an act of injustice. It was absurd to treat a lad so harshly for one offence." Any thought of the sinfulness of the act or of his nephew's weakness and indecision in giving way to the temptation, was swallowed up in the feeling of injustice, and Reginald found his aunt and cousins at Bath prepared to treat him as a highly injured individual.

Now, of course all this was highly injudi cious, and might have done his character material harm; but Reginald himself was not satisfied, he felt sure that Mr. Maitland would speak to him very differently with regard to the matter. His own conscience, too, told him a different story. Even if the punishment might seem severe, it was through his own weakness that he had fallen ; it was his carelessness and want of perseverance in the preceding term which had paved the way for his fall. It would have been no temptation he knew to Forester or Edric Maitland, nor to him either a year ago. Commiseration was not the consolation either that he wanted. His heart was still dead and cold ; generally sanguine, he now felt almost hopeless of the future ; though he had begun to pray again, his prayers were lifeless, they wanted faith ; he asked, but expected not to receive.

It seemed as though God had passed by, and that it was useless for him to persevere any longer. Though he dreaded the meeting, he yet longed for a talk with Mr. Maitland, to open his heart to him, and so he took the opportunity of a letter from his grandmother, to hasten his departure to Burrscombe ; more especially as his uncle, one of those men, who if they have anything on their minds cannot help talking about it, was continually expati ating on his wrongs to every one who came to the house. Perhaps he would have been more chary of his information, had he known what many of these worthy souls, who had agreed to all his assertions, said when they met at the card-table in the evening. " It is all very well for his uncle to take his part, but he is evidently a most depraved young man." " Yes, and I am very glad my nephew is not here now, as he might have contaminated him," charitably echoed a second.

" Ah," said another, rolling on the ball with a will, " I knew the old colonel and his father well, both noble looking men," and, then waiting a moment to sort her hand, added, " a very sad disgrace indeed, but I suppose he must have taken after his mother, a poor weak thing." " Yes," shrieked the fourth, who was rather deaf, and had only caught the last few words, and thought that they were talk ing about another event, " but what could you expect, such a bringing up ; might just as well have had no mother at all, always allowed to do just as she liked, but then what's the world coming to, as I said to sister Ann, when we heard the news this morning. And so these four, in whom the milk of human kindness seemed dried up, settled to their own satisfaction, that poor Reginald's fate was sealed, that he was naturally and irretrievably bad, and that there was little chance of any amendment ; and then commenced some other subject, which they dis cussed in an equally friendly, amiable and charitable spirit between the pauses of a rubber of long whist.

Chapter II

We will pass over Reginald's meeting with his dear old grannie, and will forgive her for being unable to think any evil of her darling boy, and for her conviction, not merely that he was more sinned against than sinning, but that it was altogether the fault of some one else. " I wish he had never gone to Woolhurst at all, but had gone with Edric Maitland to Tiverton. I never wished it, and always had a presentiment that it was not for the best," said the old lady to Nanny one morning, as she informed her of the untoward event. " I never did think any good of them wild Irishmen," answered Nanny, " and have heard zome queer tales about 'em vrom Bristol volk. They be maizt daft, I reckon. Just as if it'z likely, indeed, that Maizter Reginald would go for to do zuch a thing of hizzelf. It'z just th' wicked and zeducing wayz they have wi 'em."

And that night, and each evening for many months afterwards, the waxen figure, which had been long laid aside, was brought out again, and a pin scrupulously and religi ously fixed in it ; the first through that spot where the heart should have been, as though, with the first stab, to take the life, or at any rate the powers of further mischief, out of the guilty individual. And very thankful indeed was she that it had not been destroyed, as she had more than once intended, more especially as Reginald for the first week seemed in a very low and distressed state of mind. He moped all day in the house, and went out walking only of an evening. Indeed, he was getting into a very dangerous frame of mind ; the first stage in the ruined life of many another. He had been at Burrscombe nearly a week, and Lorna had never been to see him ; his worst anticipations were therefore realized, she was never to be allowed to speak to him again.

Mr. Maitland even had not visited him ; he was evidently, therefore, to be treated as an outcast, as one incapable of amendment. It seemed, like the last pound upon the camel's back, to crush him utterly to the ground. He took counsel with no one, but nursed his grief, or else he would have found that Mr. Maitland and Lorna were away from home, and would not return until Saturday ; and when Sunday came, instead of going to church at Sandstone, he walked over the hills to Malborough, and returned home by the seaside. As he was walking along, and feeling very miserable, who should he come across, but his old friend, Jabez Steer, fast asleep on a bank by the sea shore, just at the entrance to Milton sands. His first thought was to pass him ; his second, to go and sit by his side, wake him, and have a chat.

Jabez Steer's principles with regard to church going were peculiar. No Sunday morning ever passed that did not see him in his accustomed seat at Sandstone church ; but if the bishop himself had preached in the afternoon he would hardly have been per suaded to go to hear him. When spoken to by Mr. Maitland on the subject, he had answered — " I am much obliged to your reverence for the advice, but you see the great Creator has given us two books, the book of the Testa ments and the book of Nature ; and He seems to speak to me almost as plainly in the one as the other. I go to church in the morn ing, pray to the Lord, and hear the Word read and explained, and much good your reverence often does me ; and then in the afternoon I read a page out of the other book, and listen to a sermon preached by the Almighty Himself, and with due respect to your reverence the afternoon sermon sometimes seems to do me more good than the morning ; and the singing of the birds to the music of the waves are, with no disparagement to your lady's exertions, as fine an anthem as any sung by the choir of Sandstone."

On the afternoon in question, like many another who would have found fault with him for his principles, he had fallen asleep while listening to the sermon. When Reginald awoke him, he rubbed his eyes for a moment, and as soon as he saw who it was, said — " Young Mister A'Bear — and I hope that I see him with a mens sana in corpore sano, according to the Latins ; for as Milton has said, ' the mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.' You have found me napping, or ' in Bedfordshire,' as my old master used to say, when he awoke us up with a blow of the ferrule ; but I was so tired, and the noise of the waves so soothing, that I could have gone to sleep on a fuzzen faggot. But, sir, now I look at you again, ' the native hue of resolution seems sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought.' Can it be that you have already reached that stage depicted by the poet, when ' sighing like a furnace ' " — but then, noticing the pained expression on Reginald's face, he changed his manner and tone of voice, as he continued " but perhaps I am taking too great a freedom ; still if my young master would like to pour the story of his griefs into the ear of an humble, but sympa thizing friend, who has had some little experi ence of the battle of life, he will be glad to listen."