Meantime the strange young man who had roused David’s suspicions on Sunday afternoon continued staying with the Grays, but his presence was accounted for, since, to David’s great relief, he proved to be a cousin. He proved also, which was satisfactory, to be a man who played cricket occasionally for his county, and thus had a claim to respect, and took part in a match against the masters, playing for them. On that occasion he proceeded to hit David’s bowling to all parts of the compass with the utmost ease and enjoyment, a feat that raised him in the bowler’s estimation. Eventually David got him out with a ball about which Mr. Leonard Gray knew absolutely nothing, but he had been treated with wonderful contempt first. And as Gray retired he nodded in a friendly manner.
“Glad you didn’t send that ball down sooner, Blaize,” he said.
Then, with the suddenness of a thunderbolt, the end came. Bags brought the fateful news, while David was ecstatically employed on a model flying-machine which Frank had given him.
“Did you ever see anything so ripping!” he shouted. “Frank sent it me this morning. It flew the whole length of hall just now. Wait till I wind it up again.”
David picked up the beloved machine and began winding it.
“What’s up!” he said looking at Bags. “Anything beastly happened? Nothing wrong in the house, is there!”
David let go of the winder and the propeller whirred and pulled as the wheels ran round.
“She’s engaged to that cousin,” said Bags. “Banns were given out yesterday at the parish church. Plugs told me; his people were down and he went with them to church instead of chapel.”
David felt the world topple round him. He sat down and turned very red in the face.
“I say, David,” he said shyly, “if you only knew how I hate anything that hurts you. I should like to kill that chap.”
And his plain, rather goat-like face glowed with that which had so long inspired him, namely, his affection for David, that shy, silent passion of friendship.
“Well, he’s a jolly lucky chap,” he said at length.
Then he looked at Bags and saw in his eyes just that blind devotion that you can see in a dog’s eyes, if you understand dogs. He got up, and put a hand on Bags’s shoulder.
“It’s ripping of you to care, Bags,” he said. “I’m no end grateful. . . . Hell!”