St. Winifred's Part 15

The permission to go whenever he liked to Mr Percival's room was his most valued privilege. There he could always secure such immunity from disturbance as enabled him to learn his lessons in half the time he would otherwise have been obliged to devote to them; and there too he could always ask the master's a.s.sistance when he came to any insuperable difficulty, and always enjoy the society of Henderson and the one or two other boys who were allowed by Mr Percival's kindness to use the same retreat. From the bottom of his form he rapidly rose to the top, and at last was actually placed first. A murmur of pleasure ran through the form on the first Sunday when his name was read out in this honourable position, and it gave Walter nearly as much satisfaction to hear Henderson's name read out _sixth_ on the same day; for before Walter came, Henderson was too volatile ever to care where he stood in form, and usually spent his time in school in drawing caricatures of the masters, and writing parodies of the lesson or epigrams on other boys; up till this time Daubeny had always been first in the form, and he deserved the place if any boy did. He was not a clever boy, but nothing could exceed his well-intentioned industry. Like Sir Walter Raleigh he "toiled terribly." It was an almost pathetic sight to see Dubbs set about learning his repet.i.tions; it was a n.o.ble sight, too. There was a heroism about it which was all the greater from its being unnoticed and unrecorded. Poor Dubbs had no privacy except such as the great schoolroom could afford, and there is not much privacy in a room, however large, which is the common habitation of fifty boys.

Nevertheless, the undaunted Daubeny would choose out the quietest and loneliest corner of the room, and with elbows on knees and hands over his ears to shut out the chaotic noises which surrounded him, would stay repeating the lines to himself with attention wholly concentrated and absorbed, until, after perhaps an hour's work, he knew enough of them to enable him to finish mastering them the next morning. Next morning he would be up with the earliest dawn, and would again set himself to the task with grand determination, content if at the end of the week he gained the distinguished reward of being head in his form, and could allow himself the keen pleasure of writing home to tell his mother of his success.

When Daubeny had first come to Saint Winifred's, he had been forced to go through very great persecution. As he sat down to do his work he would be pelted with orange peel, kicked, tilted off the form on which he sat, ridiculed, and sometimes chased out of the room. All this he had endured with admirable patience and good humour; in short, so patiently and good-humouredly that all boys who had in them a spark of sense or honour very soon abandoned this system of torment, and made up for it as far as they could by respect and kindness, which always, however, took more or less the form of banter. It is not to be expected that boys will ever be made to see that steady, strenuous industry, even when it fails, is a greater and a better thing than idle cleverness, but those few who were so far in advance of their years as to have some intuition of this fact, felt for the character of Daubeny, a value which gave him an influence of a rare and important kind. For nothing could daunt this young martyr--not even failure itself. If he were too much bullied and annoyed to get up his lesson overnight, he would be up by five in the morning working at it with unremitting a.s.siduity. Very often he _overdid_ it, and knew his lesson all the worse in proportion as he had spent upon it too great an amount of time. Without being positively stupid, his intellect was somewhat dull, and as his manner was shy and awkward he had not been quite understood at first, and no master had taken him specially in hand to lighten his burdens. His bitterest trial, therefore, was to fail completely every now and then, and be reproached for it by some master who little knew the hours of weary work which he had devoted to the unsuccessful attempt. This was particularly the case during his first half-year, during which he had been in Mr Robertson's form. It happened that, from the very weariness of brain induced by his working too hard, he had failed in several successive lessons, and Mr Robertson, who was a man of quick temper and stinging speech, had made some very cutting remarks upon him, and sent him, moreover, to detention--a punishment which caused to his sensitive mind a pain hardly less acute than the master's pungent and undeserved sarcasm. This mishap, joined to his low weekly placing, very nearly filled him with despair, and this day might have turned the scale, and fixed him in the position of a heavy and disheartened boy, but for Power, who had come to Saint Winifred's at the same time with Daubeny, and who, although in his unusually rapid progress he had long left Daubeny behind, was then in the same form and the same dormitory with him, and knew how he worked. Power used always to say to his friends that Dubbs was the worthiest, the bravest, the most upright and conscientious boy in all Saint Winifred's school. Daubeny, on the other hand, had for Power the kind of adoration of the savage for the sun; he was the boy's beau-ideal of a perfect scholar and a perfect being.--It was a curious sight to see the two boys together Power with his fine and thoughtful face beaming with intelligence, Dubbs with large, heavy features and awkward gait; Power sitting down with his book and perfectly mastering the lesson in a quarter of an hour, and then turning round to say, with a bright arch look, "Well, Dubbs, I've learnt the lesson; how far are you?"

"Learnt the lesson? O, lucky fellow. I only know one stanza and that not perfectly; let me see--'Nam quid Typhoeus et validus Mimas nam quid'--no; I don't know even that, I see."

"Here, let me hear you."

Whereupon Dubbs would begin again, and flounder hopelessly at the end of the third line, and then Power would continue it all through with him, fix the sense of it in his memory, read it over, suggest little mnemonic dodges and a.s.sociations of particular words and lines, and not leave him until he knew it by heart, and was ready with grat.i.tude enough to pluck out his right eye and give it to Power, if needed, there and then.

The early failures we have been speaking of took place when Power had been staying out of school with a severe cold, and being in the sickroom had not seen Daubeny at all. He had come out again on the morning when, after Daubeny's failure, Mr Robertson had called him incorrigibly slothful and incapable, and after muttering some more invectives had said something about his being hopeless. As he listened to the master's remarks, although he knew that they only arose from misconception, Power's cheeks flushed up with painful surprise, and his eyes sparkled with indignation for his friend. He wanted Daubeny to tell Mr Robertson how many hours he had spent in being "incorrigibly slothful"

over that particular lesson, but this at the time he could not get him to do. "Besides," said Daubeny, "if he knows me to be quite hopeless"-- and here the poor boy grew scarlet as he recalled the undeserved insult--"it's no disgrace to me to fail."

When detention was over, Power sought out his friend, and found him sitting on the top of a little hill by the side of the river, alone, and with a most forlornly disconsolate air. Power saw that he had been crying bitterly, but had too much good taste to take any notice of the fact.

"Well, Power, you see what credit I get, and yet you know how I try.

I'm a 'bad, idle boy,' it seems, and 'incorrigibly slothful,' and 'hardly fit for the school,' and 'I must be put down to a lower form if I don't make more effort'--oh! I forgot though, you heard it all yourself. So you know my character," he said, with a melancholy smile.

"Never mind, old fellow. You've done your best, and none of us can do more. You know the soldier's epitaph--'Here lies one who tried to do his duty'--a prince could not have better, and you deserve that if anyone ever did."

"I wish I were you, Power," said Daubeny; "you are so clever, you can learn the lessons in no time; everyone likes you, and you get no end of credit, while I'm a mere b.u.t.t, and when I've worked hard it's a case of _Kathedeitai honos_, as the lesson-book says."

"Pooh, Dubbs," said Power, kindly putting his arm on his shoulder; "you're just as happy as I am. A fellow with a clear conscience _can't_ be in low spirits very long. Don't you remember the pretty verse I read to you the other day, and which made me think of you while I read it--

"'Days that, in spite Of darkness, by the light Of a clear mind are day all night?'"

"Don't think I _envy_ you, Power--you won't think that, will you?" said Dubbs with the tears glistening in his eyes.

"No, no, my dear old boy. Such a nature as yours can't envy, I know; I'm sure you're as happy when I succeed as when you succeed yourself. I think I've got the secret of it, Dubbs. You work _too_ much; you must take more exercise--play games more--give less time to the work. I'm sure you'll do better then, for half is better than the whole sometimes.

And Dubbs, I may say to you what I wouldn't say to any other boy in the whole school--but I've found it _so_ true, and I'm sure you will too, and that is, Bene ora.s.se est bene studuisse."

Dubbs pressed his hand in silence. The hard thoughts which had been gathering were dissipated in a moment, and as he walked back to the school and to new heroic efforts by Power's side, he felt that he had learnt a secret full of strength. He did better and better. He broke the neck of his difficulties one by one, and had soon surpa.s.sed boys who were far more brilliant, but less industrious, than himself. Thus it was that he fought his way up to the position of one of the steadiest and most influential boys among those of his own standing, because all knew him to be sterling in his virtues, unswerving in his rect.i.tude, most humble, and most sincere. During all his school career he was never once overtaken in a serious fault. It may be that he had fewer temptations than boys more gifted and more mercurial; he was never exposed to the singularly powerful trials which compensated for the superiority of others to him in good looks, and popular manners, and quick pa.s.sions; but yet his blamelessness had something in it very beautiful, and his n.o.ble upward struggles were remembered with fond pleasure in after days.

Walter, like all other sensible boys, felt for Daubeny a very sincere admiration and regard. Daubeny's fearless rect.i.tude, on the night when his own indulged temper led him into such suffering, had left a deep impression on his mind, and, since then, Dubbs had always been among the number of his more intimate friends. Hence, when Walter wrested from him the head place, he was half sorry that he should cause the boy to lose his well-merited success, and almost wished that he had come out second, and left Daubeny first. He knew that there was not in his rival's nature a particle of envy, but still he feared that he might suffer some disappointment. But in this he was mistaken; Daubeny was a firm believer in the principle of _La carriere ouverte aux talons_; he was, under the circ.u.mstances, quite as happy to be second as to be first; and among the many who congratulated Walter, none did so with a heartier sincerity than this generous and single-minded boy.

People still retain the notion that boyish emulation is the almost certain cause of hatreds and jealousies. Usually, the fact is the very reverse. An _ungenerous_ rivalry is most unusual, and those schoolfellows who dispute with a boy the prizes of a form are commonly his most intimate a.s.sociates and his best friends. Certainly, Daubeny liked Walter none the less for his having wrested away from him with so much ease a distinction which had caused himself such strenuous efforts to win.

The pleasant excitement of contending for a weekly position made Daubeny work harder than ever. Indeed, the whole form seemed to have received a new stimulus lately. Henderson was astonis.h.i.+ng everybody by a fit of diligence, and even Howard Tracy seemed less totally indifferent to his place than usual. So willingly did the boys work, that Mr Paton had not half the number of punishments to set, and perhaps his late misfortune had infused a little more tenderness and consideration into a character always somewhat stern and unbending. But, instead of rising, Daubeny only lost places by his increased work; he was making himself ill with work. At the end of the next week, instead of being first or second, he was only fifth; and when Mr Percival, who always had been his friend, rallied him on this descent, he sighed deeply, and complained that he had been suffering lately from headaches, and supposed that they had prevented him from doing so well as usual.

This remark rather alarmed the master, and on the Sunday afternoon he asked the boy to come a walk with him, for the express purpose of endeavouring to persuade him to relax efforts which were obviously being made to the injury of his health.

When they had once fairly reached the meadows by the riverside, Mr Percival said to him--

"You are overdoing it, Daubeny. I can see myself that your mind is in a tense, excited, nervous condition from work; you must lie fallow, my dear boy."

"O! I'm very strong, sir," said Daubeny; "I've a cast-iron const.i.tution, as that amusing plague of mine, Henderson, always tells me."

"Never mind, you must really work less. I won't have that getting up at five in the morning. If you don't take care, I shall _forbid_ you to be higher than twentieth in your form under heavy penalties, or I shall get Dr Keith to send you home altogether, and not let you go in to the examination."

"O! no, sir, you really mustn't do that. I a.s.sure you that I enjoy work. An illness I had when I was a child hindered and threw me back very much, and you can't think how eager I am to make up for that lost time."

"The time is not lost, my dear Daubeny, if G.o.d demanded it in illness for His own good purposes. Be persuaded, my boy; abandon, for the present, all struggle to take a high place until you feel quite well again, and then you shall work as hard as you like. Remember, knowledge itself is valueless in comparison with health."

Daubeny felt the master's kind intention; but he could not restrain his unconquerable eagerness to get on. He would have succ.u.mbed far sooner, if Walter and Power had not constantly dragged him out with them almost by force, and made him take exercise against his will. But, though he was naturally strong and healthy, he began to look very pale, and his best friends urged him to go home and take a holiday.

Would that he had taken that good and kind advice!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

APPENFELL.

To breathe the difficult air Of the iced mountain top.

Manfred.

Fetzo auf den Schroffen Zinken Hangt sie, auf dem hochsten Grat, Wo die Felsen jah versinken, Und verschwunden ist der Pfad.

Schiller.

It was some weeks before the examination, and the close of the half-year, when one day Walter, full of glee, burst out of the schoolroom at twelve, when the lesson was over, to tell Kenrick an announcement just made to the forms, that the next day was to be a whole holiday.

"Hurrah!" said Kenrick, "what's it for?"

"O! Somers has got no end of a scholars.h.i.+p at Cambridge--an awfully swell thing--and Dr Lane gave a holiday directly he got the telegram announcing the news."

"Well done, old Somers!" said Kenrick. "What shall we do?"

"O! I've had a scheme for a long time in my head, Ken; I want you to come with me to the top of Appenfell."

"Whew-w-w! but it's a tremendous long walk, and no one goes up in winter."

"Never mind, all the more fun and glory, and we shall have the whole day before us. I've been longing to beat that proud old Appenfell for a long time. I'm certain we can do it."

"But do you mean that we two should go alone?"

"O, no; we'll ask Flip, to amuse us on the way."

"And may I ask Power?"

"If you like," said Kenrick, who was, I am sorry to say, not a little jealous of the friends.h.i.+p which had sprung up between Power and Walter.

"And would you mind Daubeny joining us?"

"Not at all; and he's clearly overworking himself. It'll do him good.

Let me see--you, Power, Flip, Dubbs, and me; that'll be enough, won't it?"

"Well, I should like to ask Eden."