Then Oswald was placed as a boarder at an academy in a neighboring city. Before leaving home, Oswald had begged, prayed, and insisted upon Valentine being permitted to accompany him, and had finally gained his object—an almost unheard-of indulgence—but one, nevertheless, that could not be refused by the father of his cherished son. So Valentine, ostensibly as a servant, but really as friend and companion, accompanied Oswald to his school.
Here also Oswald took every opportunity to impart his acquired knowledge to his companion.
And now Valentine's taste in literature and art began to develop itself. His mind was by no means an "omnium-gatherem." Belle-lettres, rather than classic lore or mathematical science, was his attraction. Astronomy, botany, poetry, rhetoric, oratory, elocution, music, painting, and the drama—these, and other studies only in proportion as they related to these, were his delights. An æsthetic rather than a strong intellect distinguished him. A love of beauty, elegance, and refinement, in all things—in art, science, and the drama, as well as in his own person, dress, and surroundings—began to reveal itself. And those who did not understand or like Valentine, began to sneer at him for a petit-maitre and a dandy.
A change began to creep over the relations between the youths. Oswald was no longer a boy, but a young man. He could no longer instruct his companion, because he would thereby render himself obnoxious to public opinion, as well as to the laws of the State, to which his age now made him responsible. Neither could he bear the good-humored jests and the ridicule of his school-fellows, who bantered him unmercifully upon his friendship for his "man," calling them the foster-brothers, the Siamese twins, Valentine and Orson, etc.; and Valentine was beginning to suffer from the occasional slights, neglect, contempt, and inequality in temper of his young master, when fortunately the scene changed. Oswald was withdrawn from the Academy of M——, and sent to the University of Virginia, whither Valentine, as his valet, attended him.
CHAPTER II.
THE MANIAC'S CURSE.
Life is before ye! Oh, if ye would look
Into the secrets of that sealed book,
Strong as ye are in youth and hope and faith,
Ye would sink down and falter, "Give us Death!"—Fanny Kemble.
Oswald Waring remained three years at the University of Virginia, and during the whole of that period he had not returned home once. The vacations had been spent at various Northern watering-places, to which he went, accompanied by his inseparable companion and valet, Valentine. His fellow-students at the university often warned him of what they called the reckless imprudence of taking his slave with him to the North, expressing their belief that one day the fellow would give him the slip. But Oswald laughed, in his reckless, confiding good humor, and declared, if the rascal could have the heart to leave him, he was perfectly welcome to do so, at the same time expressing his belief that the boy understood his true interests too well to do anything of the sort. But the fact was, Valentine loved his master much too well to leave him lightly.
Oswald Waring never distinguished himself at the university, or anywhere else, for anything but good nature, generosity, and reckless extravagance. He never graduated; but at the close of his third year, being some months past his legal majority, he left the university finally, and went on a tour through the Northern States and Canada, before embarking for Europe. He was accompanied, as usual, by Valentine.