Say and Seal Volume I Part 59

Faith went to get the books, but returned without them and with a disturbed face.

"Mr. Linden, one of the boys wishes to see you."

"I suppose it never was heard that a boy came at the right time," said Mr. Linden. "Well Miss Faith--I believe I must see him--will you write another exercise for me? Here is your pen and paper--I will try not to be hindered long."

Faith mutely took the pen and paper, and went out with a divided mind, for the boy whom she let in, Cindy being nowhere visible, was Phil Davids. Phil had thought better of his determination, and wisely judging that if Mr. Linden wanted to see him he probably would accomplish the measure some time, concluded the shortest way was to see him as smoothly as possible. So in he walked and made his bow, grumly civil, but civil.

Mr. Linden's opening remark, after he had given the boy his hand (which even he liked to touch) was at least peculiar.

"Phil--do you know what a smart boy you are?"

And the answer was a strictly true, though blundering, "No, sir."

"I don't know _how_ smart you could be, myself," said Mr. Linden, "but I know you are very smart now. You always make me think of the man who found a bag of jewels lying in the road and didn't know what they were."

It occurred to Phil's mind that not to know jewels when they were seen was a doubtful proof of smartness; so he answered with a somewhat surly, "How, sir?"

"This man," Mr. Linden went on, "instead of having his jewels set in gold, to wear or to sell, went round the town flinging them at his neighbour's windows--or his neighbour's cats,--as you do, Phil, with your very bright powers of head and tongue. Why don't you make a man of yourself--and use those powers for something worth while?"

"You never see me doin' it, sir!" said Phil, answering the most interesting part of Mr. Linden's address.

"Don't I?" said Mr. Linden,--"I see and hear a good many things. But n.o.body can get on in the world after such a p.r.i.c.kly fas.h.i.+on,--why even a porcupine smooths himself down before he tries to go ahead. If you were to be a lawyer Phil, you'd fight your clients instead of helping them fight,--and if you were a farmer, you'd be like the man who burnt up three stacks of his hay because the fourth got wet."

Phil reddened, though he couldn't help smiling, and was evidently getting angry.

"That 'ere farmer was a big fool!" he said.

"Yes, we are agreed upon that point," said Mr. Linden,--"I daresay he would have said so himself next day. Well Phil--this was not what I wanted to talk to you about to-day--much as I like to see smart boys make the most of themselves. I want to know exactly what it was that you heard Reuben Taylor say about Miss Derrick."

Phil's eyes opened unmistakeably.

"I never heerd him say nothing about her!" he said boldly.

"Then why did you say you did?" said Mr. Linden, with the cool face of one who knows his ground.

"I didn't!" said Phil. "I'm blessed if I did."

"No you are not--" said Mr. Linden gravely,--"people are never blessed who do not speak truth. And you have shut both doors by which such a blessing might have come in this case, Phil."

"Who said I ever said so, sir?" Phil asked confidently.

"You told Dr. Harrison, for one," said Mr. Linden.

"I never spoke a word to Dr. Harrison--" Phil began and checked himself. "I never said anything but the truth, sir!"

"What truth did you say to him?" said Mr. Linden. "I wish you would do the same for me. The roughest truth, Phil, is pleasanter to ray ears than the smoothest falsehood."

"I said nothin' but what _was_ truth, sir," said Phil, perplexedly, as if he felt caught in a snare. "I didn't think you meant _that_."

"That is precisely what I meant."

"'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.