The Monctons | Page 8

me, sir. Did not you place me under his care in order that I might learn?"
"And you refuse to do so?"
"No, sir: the reverse is the case: he refuses to teach me, and deprives me of my books, so that I cannot teach myself."
"A very probable tale," sneered Mr. Moncton; then rising from the table at which he was seated, he cried out hastily, "Is Mr. Jones in the study?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then, my new client, come along with me. I will soon learn the truth of your case."
He clutched me by the arm, which he grasped so tightly that I could scarcely resist a cry of pain, and hurried me out. In the study we found Theophilus and Mr. Jones: the one lounging on two chairs, the other smoking a cigar and reading a novel. Mr. Moncton stood for a moment in the door-way, regarding the pair with his peculiar glance.
"Gentlemen, you seem pleasantly and profitably employed!"
"Our morning tasks are concluded," said Theophilus, returning the stare of scrutiny with a steady lie. "'Too much work would make Jack a dull boy.'"
His father smiled grimly. How well he understood the character of his son.
"Here is a lad, Mr. Jones, who complains that you not only refuse to teach him, but deprive him of his books."
"He tells the truth, sir," returned that worthy, casting upon me a spiteful, sidelong glance, which seemed to say more eloquently than words, "You shall see, master Geoffrey, what you'll get by tale-bearing. I'll match you yet." "I have withheld his books, and refused my instructions for the past week, as a punishment for his insolent and disrespectful conduct to your son and me; to say nothing of his impertinent speeches regarding you, sir, who are his guardian and benefactor."
"Do you hear that--sir!" said my uncle, giving me a violent blow on my cheek, and flinging me from him. "When next you come to me with such tales, you shall not leave your bed for a week."
I sprang from the floor, where his blow had sent me; and stood erect before him. It was a pigmy confronting a giant; but my blood was boiling. I had lost all control over myself. "It's a lie!" I cried, shaking my fist at Mr. Jones. "A monstrous falsehood! He knows it is. Theophilus knows it is. I have been falsely accused and unjustly punished; I will remember that blow to my dying day. I will never forget nor forgive it."
"And who cares, my hero, for your impotent rage?" My uncle seized me by my thick curling hair, and turned round my face, hot with passion and streaming with tears of rage, to the gaze of my sneering enemies. "I will make you know, that you are in my house and in my power--and you shall submit to my authority, and the authority of those I choose to place over you."
I struggled desperately in his herculean grasp in order to free myself. He laughed at my impotent rage and then threw me on the floor--and this time, I was quiet enough.
When I recovered my senses, I found myself lying upon the bed in the garret, allotted to my use. My aunt was sitting beside me, bathing my temples with vinegar and water. "Oh, aunt," I sighed, closing my eyes, "I wish I were dead!"
"Hush! Geoffrey. You brought this on yourself. I told you how it would be."
"It was so unjust," I replied with bitterness.
"And you were so rash. You will be wiser another time."
"When I am as wicked as my persecutors."
"No need of quoting others, my son, while you suffer such violent passions to master you. Listen to me, my child. I have known your uncle for years--have seen him in his darkest and stormiest moods; and contrived to live peaceably with him. Nay, he respects me more than he does any one else in the world. But I never opposed his will. He is not a man to be trifled with--tears and complaints are useless. You cannot touch his heart. He will be obeyed. Left to himself, he may become your friend, and even treat you with a certain degree of kindness and consideration. But if you anger him, he will never forgive, and can be a dreadful enemy. If you love me, Geoffrey, follow my advice and submit to his authority with a good grace."
"I will try not to hate him for your dear sake. I can promise no more!"
I kissed her hand and fell back exhausted on my pillow. My head ached dreadfully from the ill-treatment I had received; and wounded pride made my heart very sore. It was only on her account that I could control the deadly and revengeful feelings I cherished against him. Theophilus and Mr. Jones, I considered beneath contempt.
CHAPTER V.
A CHANGE IN MY PROSPECTS.
The