Ernest Bracebridge Part 16

The gag was quickly produced; but as Blackall found it being adjusted, his courage, or rather his obstinacy, gave way.

"What is it, do you say, that you want of me, you fellow?" he asked, in a very much humbled tone.

Ernest repeated the terms he had before proposed.

"As to that, I do not mean to say that I am not ready to agree to your terms," he replied; "only just mark me, you fellows. I don't think that I am a greater bully than others, and if you fancy that I am going to agree not to lick a fellow who is impudent, you are mistaken. I'm not going to promise any such thing. f.a.gging is not in vogue, so I'll give that up for the present, but I don't know what other big fellows will do."

This speech of the once formidable bully was received with loud shouts by most of the younger boys, but Ernest, who knew something more than they did of human nature, did not put much confidence in what had been said, still he saw that it would be politic to release him while he remained in that humbled humour.

"Very well, Blackall," said Ernest; "we are all glad to hear what you say, and we intend to rely on your promise; but remember that we are all united to resist aggression, and that the moment you break your promise, we shall take steps to punish you. Now release him."

In obedience to the orders of their leader, some of the boys cast off the las.h.i.+ngs which secured their prisoner to the tree, but they wisely took care to keep him blindfolded to the last, that he might be unable to injure them. His hands and legs being set free, they all hurried back to their ranks, where they stood in two compact bodies as before, bidding defiance to any attack he might venture to make on them.

"You may take your handkerchief off your eyes and go free," said Ernest.

Hearing this, the humbled bully began pulling away at the handkerchief round his eyes, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the lookers-on, for he had considerable difficulty in untying the knot, and getting it off his head. His first movement showed clearly that he was much inclined to break the articles of peace, but when he saw the formidable array of boys drawn up on either side of him, with Bracebridge at the head of one party, and b.u.t.tar at that of the other, discretion prevailed, and with a sulky, downcast look, he turned round and walked away across the fields in an opposite direction to that which he saw the hostile armies were taking. Ernest suppressed the commencement of a cheer in which his supporters very naturally showed an inclination to indulge.

"Let him go, and treat him with the silent contempt he deserves," he observed. "He has got a lesson which he will not easily forget; but at the same time we shall all do well not to trust him. He will not let the matter pa.s.s without trying to revenge himself on some of us."

Blackall heard the first part of Ernest's remarks. He turned round as if to give vent to his feelings; but not finding words to express himself, he stamped with his foot, and continued on in the direction he was going.

"I wonder whether he will go and complain to the Doctor of the thras.h.i.+ng we have given him," exclaimed Bouldon, as they were marching homeward.

"I certainly did not expect to see him take it so tamely. I expected that he would have fought and struggled to the last, like the rover's crew the song talks about. Instead of that, he struck his colours in a wonderfully short s.p.a.ce of time."

"Oh, those bullies are always white-livered rogues," observed b.u.t.tar, "so are nearly all the tyrants one reads about in history. Conscience makes cowards of them all. Depend on it that he will hold his tongue, and neither tell the Doctor nor any of his own special chums."

It was to be seen whether b.u.t.tar was right. The boys who had not united with Ernest were surprised to see so many of his friends marching about in order the whole afternoon; and even when tea was over, never less than five or six of them were together. They looked about for Blackall, but he did not make his appearance. The elder boys were excused from coming in to tea on half-holidays, so there was nothing remarkable in this, and none of his friends seemed to notice his absence. Of one thing all Ernest's companions felt certain, that no attempt to f.a.g them would succeed while he remained at school.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

BLACKALL'S REVENGE AND ITS RESULTS.

Everybody remarked the sullen angry expression which Blackall's countenance bore after the event I have just described. When any of his a.s.sociates talked to him about f.a.gging, he frowned, and, putting out his lips, declared that there was no use attempting to coerce the young scamps, for that the advantage to be gained was not worth the trouble it would cost. This was very true, but at the same time it was not an opinion anybody would have expected from him. Whenever he met Bracebridge, he always looked at him with an expression of intense dislike, which he was at no pains to conceal.

The Christmas holidays were now approaching, and a long course of bad weather kept the boys in more than usual. They consequently amused themselves with their indoor exercises. Their broadswords and foils were constantly in their hands during their play-hours.

One day Ernest and b.u.t.tar were fencing together. They had been at first equally matched, but Ernest was never content unless he was perfect in every exercise he took up, and so he had practised and practised, and thought the matter over, till he could beat his friend thoroughly.

b.u.t.tar took his defeats very good-naturedly.

"I cannot manage as you do, old fellow," he used to observe. "You always contrive to send my foil flying out of my hand when I fancy that I am going to play you some wonderful trick at which I have been practising away for the whole of the last week."

A match was just over when Blackall entered the fencing-room. His eye fell on Ernest. Just then something called b.u.t.tar out of the room, and Ernest was left without an antagonist.

"Come, young gentleman, you are both good fencers. Try a pa.s.s of arms together," said Mr Strutt, the fencing-master. "Oh, you must not draw back; I shall fancy you are afraid of each other if you do. Come, take your foils and begin."

Blackall hesitated. He had not exchanged a word with Ernest since the day he had received his flogging, and he hoped never to have to speak to him again.

"Perhaps Blackall would rather not fence with me, sir," observed Ernest to the fencing-master.

"Oh, nonsense, nonsense. Take up your foil and begin," was the answer he received.

"I am ready to fence with you. Come here in this corner of the room, out of the way," said Blackall suddenly.

Ernest followed him. He remarked that there was a peculiarly evil look in his eye. He did not, however, unfortunately, observe what he was about with his foil in the corner.

"Now, young gentlemen, attention," cried Mr Strutt to some of his pupils, whose exercise he was superintending, and the words Quarte, Tierce, Seconde, Demi-circle, Contre de Quarte, Contre de Tierce, and so on, were heard resounding through the room.

"Come, let us begin, and have no child's play," exclaimed Blackall with vehemence, throwing himself into the att.i.tude to engage. He made several rapid pa.s.ses, which Ernest parried dexterously. As he did so, he observed that his adversary's foil had no b.u.t.ton on it. Still he thought that it was the result of accident; and as he had very little fear of Blackall's. .h.i.tting him, he did not deign at first to take notice of it. Something, however, he observed in the expression of his opponent's eye made him doubt the wisdom of this delicacy.

"Blackall," he cried out, parrying a desperate thrust at his breast, your foil has no b.u.t.ton. "Were you to hit me, you might injure me very much."

"What care I?" answered Blackall. "I'll pay my debts, depend on that.

Take that--and that--and that!" As he spoke he lunged rapidly at Ernest, who as rapidly turned aside the point of his weapon. Still Blackall was no bad fencer, and Ernest had the greatest difficulty in defending himself. Now he had to guard against a straight thrust, now against a disengagement, now the beat and thrust, now the cut over the point, and now the double. He saw that it would be too dangerous to attack himself; indeed, his only wish was to disarm his adversary, and then to refuse to fence with him any longer. This Blackall seemed to suspect, and to be on his guard against, while his aim was too clearly to wound, if not to kill, his opponent. Ernest under these very trying circ.u.mstances kept perfectly cool. He had parried every thrust which Blackall had made, but the latter at length pressed him so hard that he had to retreat a few paces. Once more he stood his ground, and defended himself as before. As he did so, suddenly he felt his foot slip, and, while he was trying to recover himself, Blackall pressed in on him, and sent his foil completely through his shoulder. One of the boys had just before dropped a lump of grease, which had been the cause of the accident. Ernest felt himself borne backwards, and, before any one could catch him, he fell heavily to the ground. The blood flowed rapidly from the wound; a sickness came over him, and he fainted.

Blackall pretended to be very much grieved at what had occurred; but the fencing-master, looking at him sternly, asked him how it was that he could use a foil without knowing that the b.u.t.ton was off.

"And what is the meaning of this, let me ask?" he said, stooping down, and with his knife hooking out the end of a foil from a c.h.i.n.k in the boards. "The point was broken off on purpose. You have tried to kill that young lad there. I know it; and I shall take you before the Doctor, and let him judge the case."

"What makes you say that?" asked Blackall, turning very pale. "Why should you suppose I should wish to hurt Bracebridge?"

"I know it--I know it," was the only answer he got, while Mr Strutt with several of the boys was engaged in lifting Ernest, and binding up his shoulder to stop the bleeding. Blackall knelt down to a.s.sist, but the fencing-master sternly ordered him to stand back.

"I will not trust you," he exclaimed. "You are a bad fellow! I believe it now. I see it all clearly. I ought not to have allowed such an one as you to fence with him. If he dies, you will be his murderer; remember that. You shall know the truth from me, at all events." Thus did the excitable but kind-hearted fencing-master run on.

As he and some of the boys were about to lift Ernest off the ground, to carry him upstairs, Monsieur Malin came in. When he had ascertained the state of affairs, he immediately sent off b.u.t.tar to summon the surgeon who attended the school, which it seemed no one else had thought of doing. The presence of a medical man would, he knew, save the Doctor a great deal of anxiety. Having done this he walked up to Blackall, and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Things do not take place in this school without my hearing of them," he remarked. "Mr Strutt thinks you wounded Bracebridge on purpose. I believe that you are capable of any crime: but come with me to the Doctor; we will hear what judgment he p.r.o.nounces on the subject."

Blackall would gladly have got away or shrunk into himself; but when he found that he had no channel of escape, he seemed to screw up his courage to face out boldly the charges brought against him.

It is a very unpleasant subject. I would rather not have had to describe Blackall and his misdeeds; but as his character is so odious, I hold him up as a warning to some not to imitate him, and to others to avoid, and on no account to trust to or to form any friends.h.i.+p with such a person when they meet him.

There was in the house a strong-room, in which occasionally very refractory boys were locked up. Confinement in it was looked upon with peculiar dislike, and considered a great disgrace. It was furnished with books and slates, and pens, ink, and paper, and the boy who was put in was always awarded a task, which he had to perform before he was let out. Any of the masters might put a boy in there, and incarceration in this place was the only punishment they were allowed to inflict on their own responsibility.

"There, go in there; translate and write out for me these five pages of English into French, and learn these fifty lines of Racine," said Monsieur Malin, as he put Blackall in, and, locking the door, took away the key. "I will report your conduct to the Doctor, and hear what he has to say to it."

Blackall was left in a great fright. He did not know what part of his conduct might be reported, and he felt conscious that he was guilty of many things which, if known, would cause him to be expelled. He knew also that Monsieur Malin would not excuse him his task, so he tried to get through with it; but all his efforts were in vain. He could do nothing, and his thoughts would turn to the act of which he had just been guilty. "I did not want to hurt him--I did not want to kill him,"

he said to himself; but each time that he said so conscience replied, "You did; you know you did. Cowardly mean-spirited revenge induced you to commit the act, and it shall not go unpunished."

The Doctor was not told of what had occurred till the medical man had arrived and examined Ernest's wound. He had him at once put to bed, and washed and dressed the wound, and then he gave him some cooling medicine, but he said that he must see him again before he would p.r.o.nounce on the matter. He might not materially suffer, but it might prove to be a very dangerous wound. This report got about the school.

b.u.t.tar, Bouldon, and poor Ellis, and many other boys, were deeply grieved when they heard it. During the evening there was much anxiety and excitement in the school.

It was generally reported that Blackall had endeavoured to kill Ernest; then that the wound had a.s.sumed a very dangerous aspect, that the surgeon was very anxious about him, and that there was very little hope of his recovery.

When the Doctor appeared in school in the evening his countenance was very grave, and he seemed grieved and anxious. He spoke very little, and it was observed that while he was reading prayers his voice faltered.

There were many sorrowful young hearts in the school that night; for another sadder report than the first got about, and it was believed that Ernest Bracebridge--the clever, the brave, the spirited one, whom all then acknowledged to be without a rival in the school--was dead.