The Cock-House at Fellsgarth Part 5

"But you asked me."

"Of course I did, and made sure you wouldn't let out. I hope they'll give you a few more lively nights, to teach you better."

The young brother's lips gave an ominous quiver at this unfeeling speech, and he horrified Fisher major by betraying imminent symptoms of tears.

"Look here, Joey," said the senior, rather more soothingly, "you've made a jolly bad start, and that can't be helped. The mistake you made is in thinking you know everything, whereas you're about as green as they make them. Why ever do you pretend not to be? Look at that other new kid-- the other one who sang. He's green too; but, bless you, it's no crime, and all the fellows take to him because he doesn't put on side like you.

Why, that song you sang--oh, my stars!--what on _earth_ put that rot into your head?"

This finished up poor Fisher minor. The recollection of his performance last night was more than he could stand, and he began to whimper.

"Come, old chap," said Fisher major, kindly, patting him on the shoulder; "perhaps it's not all your fault. I suppose I ought to have given you a leg-up, and prevented you making a fool of yourself. You'll get on right enough if you don't swagger. And in any case, don't blubber."

"I shall never get on here," said the new boy. "All the fellows are against me. Besides--I didn't know it was wrong; and--oh, Tom?--I lent a fellow half a crown, and now I've nothing to pay for the clubs!"

Fisher major laughed.

"I thought from your tones you were going to confess a murder, at least.

You'd better look alive and get the half-crown back."

"That's just it. I lent it in the dark to a--a Modern chap; and I don't know his name."

"Upon my honour, Joey, you are a-- Well, it's no good saying what you are. I hope you'll see your money again, that's all."

Fisher minor groaned.

"Would you ever mind lending me half-a-crown for the clubs, just this once?" he pleaded.

"Very convenient arrangement. I suppose I shall have to. At least I'll mark you as paid; and if you've not got back what you've lent your friend before I have to sh.e.l.l out, I shall have to pay it for you."

"Thanks, Tom; you're an awful brick," said the younger brother, brightening up rapidly. "I say, I wish I could be your f.a.g. Couldn't I?"

"Ranger's bagged you--you'll get on better with him than me. He won't stand as much nonsense as I might. There! he is calling. Cut along, and don't go making such an a.s.s of yourself again. You'll have to get on the best you can with your fellows; I can't interfere with them unless they break rules, you know. You can come in here, of course, any time you like, and if you want a leg-up with preparation, and Ranger's busy, you may as well do your work here."

After this Fisher major felt a little easier in his conscience, and was able to face the tasks of the day with a lighter mind than if he had had the care of his minor upon it all the time.

The school work of the day was not particularly onerous. Dr Ringwood, the head-master, held a sort of reception of the Sixth, and delivered, as was his wont, a little lecture on the work to be taken up during the ensuing half, interspersed with a few sarcastic references to the work of the previous half, and one or two jokes, which scoffers like Ridgway used to say must have cost him many serious hours during the holidays to develop.

"Aristophanes," said the head-master, after calling attention to the particular merits of the Greek play to be undertaken, "did not write solely for the Sixth form of a public school. I am afraid some of you, last term, thought that Euripides did. He will require more than usual attention. I am sure he can easily receive it. I would not, if I were you boys, be too chary this term of extra work. Some of you are almost painfully conscientious in your objection to overdo a particular study.

Aristophanes is an author with whom liberties may safely be taken in this respect. The test of a good cla.s.sical scholar, remember, is not the work he is obliged to do, but what he is not obliged to do--his extra work; I advise you not to be afraid to try it. The Sanatorium has been unusually free of cases of over-pressure lately. A quarter of an hour's extra work a day by the Sixth is not at all likely to tax its capacity," etcetera.

This was the doctor's pleasant style, delivered with a severe face and downcast eyes.

Then ensued a little lecture to the prefects on their duties and responsibilities, which was respectfully listened to. To judge by it, such a thing as any rumour of dissensions between rival sides and houses in the school had never reached his ears. And yet the knowing ones said the doctor knew better than the captain himself everything that went on in Fellsgarth, and could at any moment lay his hand on an offender. But he preferred to leave the police of the place to his head boys; and on the whole it was perhaps better for the School that he did.

To a larger or less degree the other forms, Cla.s.sic and Modern, were lectured in similar strains by their respective masters. The new boys among the junior division were, perhaps, the only ones who listened attentively to what Mr Stratton, the young, cheery athlete who presided over their studies, had to say. And even the irrespectful admiration was a good deal distracted by the babel of voices which was going on all round them.

"Never mind him," said D'Arcy; "he's a kid of a master, and don't know any better. It's all rot. Bless you, we get the same thing--"

"D'Arcy," said the master, suddenly, "I was recommending the value of extra work, especially for clever boys. Perhaps you will try the experiment with fifty lines of Virgil by this time to-morrow."

"There you are," said D'Arcy, appealing to his neighbours; "didn't I tell you he talked rot? Did you ever hear such a stale joke as that?"

The two new boys were tremendously impressed by this sudden swoop of vengeance, and gazed open-mouthed at the master for the rest of the cla.s.s, stealing only now and again a hasty glance at D'Arcy to see how he was bearing up against his sore afflictions.

D'Arcy, to do him justice, appeared to be bearing up very well. He was, in truth, engaged in a mental calculation as to how, during the coming term, he could most economically "job" out the impositions which usually fell to his share. If his countenance now and then brightened as he met the awe-struck gaze of the two new boys, it was because in them he thought he discerned a lively hope of solving the problem creditably to himself and not unprofitably to them.

"Come along," said he as soon as the cla.s.s was released; "let's get out into the fresh air and have a cool. Hullo, Wally," as the owner of that name trotted up, "what's up?"

"Up?" said Wally in tones of injured innocence; "one would think you didn't know it was School club elections on in an hour, and all the chaps to whip up! If the Moderns turn up in force, it'll be touch-and- go if they don't carry every man. I can't stop now--mind you bring those kids."

And off he went with all the importance of captain's f.a.g on his electioneering tour.

"Wally's right," said D'Arcy. "It'll be a close shave to carry our men.

You see, kids," added he condescendingly, "it's just this way. The Moderns are going to try to carry the clubs to-day, and if they do, the whole of us aren't going to stand it, and there'll be such a jolly row in Fellsgarth as--well, wait till you _see_."

This sounded very awful. Fisher minor would have liked to know what sort of clubs were to be carried, but did not like to ask. Ashby, however, more honest, demanded further particulars.

"I don't know what you mean," said he.

"Don't suppose you do. Whose fault is that? All you've got to do is to yell for our side and vote for our men."

That seemed simple enough, if D'Arcy would _only_ vouchsafe to tell them when to begin.

"Come along," said the latter. "We've half an hour yet to canva.s.s. You know Wally's and my study?"

"Yes."

"All right; now you," pointing to Ashby, "you hang outside that door.

That's the Modern minors' cla.s.s. Collar one of them as they come out, or two if you can; and fetch 'em up to my room. You," pointing to Fisher minor, "go and prowl about the kids' gymnasium and fetch any one with a blue ribbon on his hat, as many as you can bag. I'm going to see if I can find some of 'em near the tuck-shop. Kick twice on my door and say `Balbus,' so that I shall know it's you. Go on; off you go. Don't m.u.f.f it, whatever you do, or it'll be your fault if Fellsgarth goes to pot."

Ashby, whose uncle was an M.P., had had some little experience in general elections, but he never remembered canva.s.sing of this kind before. However, D'Arcy had an authoritative air about him, and as the School was evidently in peril, and there was no suspicion of practical joking in the present case, he marched off st.u.r.dily to the Modern minors' cla.s.s-room, and sheltering himself conveniently behind the door, waited the turn of events.

He had not to wait long. He could hear the master announcing the lesson for preparation, and the general shuffle which precedes the dismissal of a cla.s.s. Then his heart beat a little faster as he distinguished footsteps and heard the unsuspecting enemy approaching his way.

Now Ashby, although a new boy, was _man_ enough to calculate one or two things. One was that his best chance was either to attack the head or the tail of the procession; and secondly, that as the head boys in a form are usually those nearest the front, and conversely, the lowest are usually nearest to the door, the smallest boys would probably be the first to come out. For all of which reasons he decided to make his swoop at once, and if possible abscond with his booty before the main body arrived on the scene.

The event justified his shrewdness. The moment the door opened, two small Moderns scampered out clean into the arms of the expectant kidnapper, who before they had time so much as to inquire who he was or what he wanted, had a grip on the coat-collar of each, and was racing them as hard as their short legs could carry them across the gra.s.s.

"Let go, you cad!" squeaked one, presently. "What we you doing!"

"It's only fun," said Ashby, encouragingly; "come along."

The other prisoner was more practical. He tried to bite his captor's hand, and when he failed in that, he tried to kick. But though he succeeded better in this, the pace was kept up and the grip on his collar, if anything, tightened. Whereupon he attempted to sit down.

But that, though it r.e.t.a.r.ded the progress, was still insufficient to arrest it. The pace dropped to a quick walk, and in due time, greatly to Ashby's relief, the portal of Wakefield's was reached.

Here, of course, all was safe. If any of the few boys hanging about had been inclined to concern themselves in the affair, the colour of the ribbon on the victims' hats was quite sufficient reason for allowing the law to take its course; and Ashby, who began to grow very tired of his burden (which insisted on sitting down on either side all the way upstairs), arrived at length at Messrs. D'Arcy and Wally's door without challenge.

He had no need to knock, or say "Balbus," as the room was empty. The other canva.s.sers had evidently not yet returned.