‘Why not?’ said he, staring at us angrily. ’Has Saddlebank broken his arm, and can’t bowl?’
No, Saddlebank was in excellent trim, though shamefaced, as was Salter, and most of the big boys were. They begged Heriot to let them shake his hand.
‘Wait till we win our match,’ said Heriot.
Julia did not appear at morning prayers.
‘Ah,’ said Temple, ‘it’d make her sick to hear old Massacre praying.’ It had nearly made him sick, he added, and I immediately felt that it had nearly made me sick.
We supposed we should not see Julia at the match. She came, however, and talked to everybody. I could not contain myself, I wanted so to tell her what had befallen Heriot overnight, while he was batting, and the whole ground cheering his hits. I on one side of her whispered:
‘I say, Julia, my dear, I say, do you know . . .’
And Temple on the other: ‘Miss Julia, I wish you’d let me tell you—’
We longed to arouse her pity for Heriot at the moment she was admiring him, but she checked us, and as she was surrounded by ladies and gentlemen of the town, and particular friends of hers, we could not speak out. Heriot brought his bat to the booth for eighty-nine runs. His sleeve happened to be unbuttoned, and there, on his arm, was a mark of the cane.
‘Look!’ I said to Julia. But she looked at me.
‘Richie, are you ill?’
She assured me I was very pale, and I felt her trembling excessively, and her parasol was covering us.
‘Here, Roy, Temple,’ we heard Heriot call; ’here, come here and bowl to me.’
I went and bowled till I thought my head was flying after the ball and getting knocks, it swam and throbbed so horribly.
Temple related that I fell, and was carried all the way from the cricket-field home by Heriot, who would not give me up to the usher. I was in Julia’s charge three days. Every time I spoke of her father and Heriot, she cried, ‘Oh, hush!’ and had tears on her eyelids. When I was quite strong again, I made her hear me out. She held me and rocked over me like a green tree in the wind and rain.