Everyone stood up as the headmaster came in, followed by the housemasters, the guest speaker--a Liberal member of Parliament--and Bertie, the head boy. They took their seats on the platform, then Bertie came to the lectern and said in a ringing voice: "Let us sing the school song."
Hugh caught Maisie's eye and she smiled proudly. The familiar notes of the introduction sounded on the piano, and then they all began to sing.
An hour later Hugh left them having tea in Bertie's study and slipped out through the squash court into Bishop's Wood.
It was hot, just like that day twenty-six years ago. The wood seemed the same, still and humid under the shade of the beeches and elms. He remembered the way to the swimming hole and found it without difficulty.
He did not climb down the side of the quarry--he was no longer agile enough. He sat on the rim and threw a stone into the pool. It broke the glassy stillness of the water and sent out ripples in perfect circles.
He was the only one left, except for Albert Cammel out in the Cape Colony. The others were all dead: Peter Middleton killed that day; Tonio shot by Micky two Christmases ago; Micky himself drowned in a steamer trunk; and now Edward, dead of syphilis and buried in a cemetery in France. It was almost as if something evil had come up out of the deep water that day in 1866 and entered their lives, bringing all the dark passions that had blighted their lives, hatred and greed and selfishness and cruelty; fomenting deceit, bankruptcy, disease and murder. But it was over now. The debts were paid. If there had been an evil spirit, it had returned to the bottom of the pond. And Hugh had survived.
He stood up. It was time to return to his family. He walked away, then took a last look back.
The ripples from the stone had disappeared, and the surface of the water was immaculately still once again.
