But I felt I must save the boy; must exert to the full my influence over this enraged man. I don’t know what followed, or just what I did, except that we three were being dragged around the table, and that I kept my hands on those powerful hands that were grasping the boy’s throat; and soon I stood looking into the eyes of that crazed creature for what seemed an eternity—it was probably only a few seconds—all the force of my being bent on making him relax his hold. Gradually I felt his fingers loosen, his eyes ceased to glare with that lurid rage, and at last his hands dropped limp; the boy was freed, and the man and I confronted each other in breathless silence.
“Thank God! Thank God!” hysterically cried the mother, while the older boy tried to hush her cry.
But the calm was of short duration. A second rage succeeded the first. At the thought that I had seen this exhibition of his wrath, and that further concealment was futile, he sprang at the boy again. Tommy ran round the table. I sprang again at the father, and a second contest took place. I can only remember clinging to his hands, and holding his gaze, and hearing the frightened woman scream to me to be careful, or he would attack me as he had attacked Tom.
How the storm subsided I cannot recall, except that he gradually got control of himself, though the looks he cast at the boys showed that his rage was only sleeping. His remarks to me were to the effect that the game was up; I would loathe him now; I may as well know him now as they knew him, and, though I had prevented him from carrying out his threats, he would know the truth yet—he would wait till to-morrow—but punish those boys he would, and I need not think I could prevent it. Then he left the house.
We breathed freer after he was gone, but looked at one another in dismay, feeling it was only a lull in the storm. They depended on me for help, but how was I to help them? It seems that evening at the “Gym,” he had seen the boys hobnobbing with some others whose habits he had warned them against; he thought they acted guilty when he came upon them, and had been awaiting their return home to confront them with his suspicions. Their denial had enraged him, hence the terrible scene.
All the woman’s disguises were now laid aside. Previously she had tried heroically to conceal the unhappiness in their home life. Many a time I had detected her anxiety when the boys had been saying or doing things which she feared might anger their father, but, on meeting my glance, she would summon a smile and change the subject. Now it was all out.
We talked it all over. She was afraid he would desert them now, as he had threatened doing of late; but what she feared most was his coming home late in the night, after I had gone, and dragging the boys out of bed and repeating the scene; or, if just sullen, he would wait till morning, and then give the boys a thrashing; his smouldering anger would flare afresh—and, God pity them all! They implored me not to leave them. It was a miserable evening that we spent listening for him. I heard him come in late in the night, stalk about his room, and fling off his shoes. How I pitied the woman lying there, afraid to speak, feigning sleep, recoiling, as she must, from that man’s presence, yet welcoming that rather than that he should go across the hall to where the boys were sleeping!
In the morning she came to my room, heavy-eyed and anxious, dreading what the day held for them. He did not come down to breakfast. They seemed to think the storm had got to come—that it was only being postponed while I could stay with them.
Reassuring them as best I could, I went upstairs to him. I had no definite plan, but knew I must in some way extract a promise to let the matter drop, at least not to punish the boys till entirely over his anger, he had heard them calmly; and that, if he did punish them, I was to be present.