The witnesses were examined, and with the help of Percy’s and my letters a pretty true understanding of the incident was arrived at.
To dispose of one part of my story at a time, I may say that Bates’s share in the transaction showed up so unpleasantly that, as a consequence, he drove away late that evening to the railway-station. His school-days were over.
Going up to London, he there had an interview with the old lawyer, his guardian, to whom he expressed his determination to return to school no more. He had had schooling enough; he was nineteen years old; he would like to see something of the world.
Very well. What part of the world would he like to visit? France? Italy? Germany?
No. What was the use of going to countries where he could not speak the language? He would like to visit the United States.
To this desire his unsympathetic old guardian, glad to be rid of him, gave his consent; and so it came about that, while Percy and I were working our passage to New Orleans, Bates was suffering all the miseries of sea-sickness somewhere between Liverpool and New York, we being, of course, as ignorant of his movements as he was of ours. Little could Bates have imagined, when he laid his plot to oust us from Moseley’s, that the result of its success would be to lead us, all three, such a wild dance as it did.
But to return to the conclave assembled in the vicarage parlour: my father and mother, Mr. Goodall, the Head-master, and Sir Anthony.
A liberal use of the telegraph soon settled the question as to what had become of us. In reply to a message to the Chief-Constable of Southampton, information was received that a policeman had that morning noticed two boys, calling each other Tom and Percy, looking very tired, dusty, and unwashed, go on board the Louisiana, Captain Murchison, bound for New Orleans, and that they had not come ashore again. Further inquiry having made it quite certain that we were the unwashed boys referred to, our seniors fell to discussing the course of action that should be adopted. Sir Anthony and my mother represented the two extremes of opinion. The former advised that as we had brought ourselves into this scrape we might very well be allowed to get ourselves out again, we having—he was kind enough to say—plenty of sense and plenty of courage. My mother, on the other hand, was for telegraphing the passage-money to New Orleans to bring us back instantly.
But as Mr. Goodall, being an American, was much more likely than anyone else to be able to suggest a feasible course of action, the others turned to him for his opinion.
“I think,” said Mr. Goodall, “that we can make a compromise between Mrs. Swayne’s idea and Sir Anthony’s. It would be interesting to see how the boys would get out of their scrape by themselves, and this, I believe, may be done without running any risk of permitting them to get into trouble. I will tell you my idea, and if you agree I will see that it is carried out.