CHAPTER XIII

"IF I PERISH, I PERISH"

"Since we deserved the name of friends,
And thine effect so lives in me,
A part of mine may live in thee
And move thee on to noble ends."

The cheering at Bill upon the following Tuesday must be recorded,
inasmuch as it has, indirectly, bearing upon our story. It will be
guessed that the enthusiasm, the uproar, the tumultuous excitement were
even greater than on a similar occasion some fifteen years before.
But, to his amazement, Desmond, not Scaife, was made the particular
hero of the hour. Scaife's display of temper festered in the hearts of
boys who can forgive anything sooner than low breeding. The Hill had
seen the Etonian stop to speak his cheery word of congratulation to
Caesar, and not the Caterpillar alone, but urchins of thirteen had made
comparisons.

Scaife, however, could not complain of his reception upon that
memorable Tuesday afternoon; the cheering must have been heard a mile
away. But Desmond was acclaimed differently. The cheers were no
louder--that was impossible--but afterwards, when the excitement had
simmered down, Caesar became the object of a special demonstration by
the Monitors and Sixth Form. Nearly every boy of note in the Upper
School insisted upon shaking his hand or patting him on the back.
Scaife came up with the others, but he left the Yard almost immediately
and retired to his room. He had won the great match; Desmond had saved
it; and the School apprehended the subtle difference. More, Scaife
knew that John had gone up to Desmond with outstretched hands after the
match at Lord's. He could hear John's eager voice, see the flame of
admiration in his eyes, as he said, "Oh, Caesar, I am glad it was you
who made that catch!" And with those generous words, with that warm
clasp of the hand, Scaife had seen the barrier which he had built
between the friends dissolve like ice in the dog-days.

The attention of the Manor was now fixed upon the house-matches. It
seemed probable that with four members of the School Eleven in the
team, the ancient house must prove invincible. But to John's surprise,
as this delightful probability ripened into conviction, Warde betrayed
unwonted anxiety and even irritability. Miss Iris confided to Desmond,
who paid her much court, that she couldn't imagine what was the matter
with papa. And mamma, it transpired (from the same source), really
feared that the strain at Lord's had been to