by Harold Avery
CHAPTER XIV.
A PASSAGE OF ARMS.
The Triple Alliance, in common with the rest of their schoolfellows,little thought, on returning from their summer holidays, what amemorable epoch the coming term would prove in the history ofRonleigh College; still less did any one imagine what important resultswould arise from the action of the three friends, and how much woulddepend on the loyalty of these youngsters for their _Alma Mater_.
They settled down to enjoy a peaceful thirteen weeks of work and play.Jack Vance reported that the robbery of "the Hermit's" coins wasregarded at Todderton as quite a piece of ancient history; and asNoaks appeared to have forgotten the existence of the clasp-knife, and,growing every day more intimate with Thurston and Co., seemed more thanever inclined to go his way and leave his former foes alone, the lattermade up their minds to banish dull care, and consider their unfortunatemisadventure as a storm which they had safely weathered.
The wave of excitement caused by the elections soon passed over.The new prefects entered upon their duties, and in the performance ofthe same apparently met with no ill-will or opposition; yet to everykeen observer it was evident that the recent contest had left behind ita distinct under-current of dissatisfaction, and for the first time inthe memory of all concerned Ronleigh was a house divided againstitself--no longer united in a common cause, but split into two factions,one pulling against the other, thinking more of party interests than ofthe honour and welfare of the whole community.
The first occasion on which this spirit clearly manifested itself wassome ten days after the elections, when the college played their firstfootball match of the season against Ronleigh town. Thurston's namehad, as usual, been included in the list of the eleven which was postedup on Wednesday morning, but before school was over it was noised abroadthat he had refused to play.
"I say, you fellows, have you heard about 'Thirsty'?" said Fletcherjunior, as the Lower Fourth straggled into their classroom afterinterval. "I wonder if it's true."
"Oh, it's true enough," answered Grundy from the back desk; "and I'mjolly glad he's done it. I heard him say this morning that ifAllingford and those other fellows wouldn't put up with him as aprefect, they shouldn't have him in the team."
"Well, I call that rot," cried Jack Vance: "the team doesn't belong toAllingford or to anybody else--"
"Oh, shut your mouth, you young prig!" interrupted Grundy, and theentrance of Mr. Greyling put a stop to any further conversation.
I am inclined to think that a much nobler spirit would pervade suchfield-sports as cricket and football if the fact could be more firmlyimpressed upon the minds of both players and spectators that, providingthe conduct of each side is fair and generous, and that every one doeshis "big best," it is equally creditable to lose as to win. Certainlyboth sides should strive their hardest to gain the day; but let boysespecially remember, in an uphill game, when scoring goes against them,that it is to the honour of the slaughtered Spartans and not of thevictorious Persians that the pass of Thermopylae has become a householdword.
In addition to the loss of Thurston, who, to do him justice, was a verygood forward, the school team was weakened still further by anunfortunate accident which befell Rowlands, who twisted his ankle, andwas forced to leave the ground at the very commencement of the game.The Town were unusually strong, and the bulk of the back work fell onAllingford. The captain played a magnificent game, and covered himselfwith glory; but in spite of all that he and his men could do, after agallant fight the visitors claimed the victory with a score of fourgoals to two.
On the morning after the match, just before school, the members of theTriple Alliance were strolling across the entrance-hall, when theynoticed a crowd of boys surrounding the notice-board. The gatheringseemed to consist mainly of members of the lower classes, and the mannerin which they were elbowing each other aside, laughing, talking, andgesticulating, showed that some announcement of rather uncommon interestand importance must be exposed to view.
Our three friends hurried forward to join the group. Pinned to theboard with an old pen-nib was a half-sheet of scribbling-paper, andinscribed thereon, in what was evidently a disguised handwriting, weresome verses, which were seen at once to refer to the previousafternoon's defeat. They were as follows:--
COLLEGE V. TOWN. _Air_, "Bonnie Dundee."
To the boys of the college 'twas Allingford spoke: "When we play the Town team there are heads to be broke; So let ten veteran players come now follow me, And fight for the honour of ancient Ronleigh."
_Chorus_.
"Then put up your goal-posts, and mark your touch-line; We'll grind them to powder, and put them in brine. Let boarders and day boys all come out to see Us fight for the honour of ancient Ronleigh."
The ten merry men mustered quick at his call-- There were forwards, and half-backs, and goal-keeper tall; But one who was wont in the forefront to be No longer was seen in the ranks of Ronleigh.
_Chorus_: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc.
Too soon their rejoicings and empty their boast, For the Town fellows very soon had them on toast; And the bystanders sighed as they saw frequently The ball pass the "back" of our ancient Ronleigh.
_Chorus_: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc.
From this draw a moral, you fellows who rule: Sink personal spite when you act for the school; And whatever your notions of prefects may be, Let's have the right men in the team at Ronleigh.
_Chorus_: "Then put up your goal-posts, and mark," etc.
Something in these doggerel lines excited Jack Vance's wrath abovemeasure, the last verse especially raising his anger to boiling-point,so that it fairly bubbled over. Jack was a loyal-hearted youngster;he was nothing to Allingford, but Allingford was something to him, ashead and leader of the community of which he himself was a member.The sight of the captain toiling manfully through the long, unequalcontest of the previous afternoon, doing practically double work to makeup for the loss of his fellow-back, and to prevent a losing gamedegenerating into a rout, rose up once more before the small boy's mind,and, as has been said before, his wrath boiled over.
"Well, I call that a beastly shame. The chap who wrote it ought to bekicked round the field."
"My eye," cried Grundy, "listen to what's talking! Kicked round thefield, indeed! Why, I think it's jolly good: it serves Allingford andthose other fellows just right for turning Thurston out of theteam."
"What a lie!" retorted Jack. "You know very well they didn't turn himout; he went out of his own accord."
"Here, don't give me any of your cheek," said Grundy, sidling up to hisantagonist in a threatening manner; "you mean to say I'm a liar, eh?"
The advent of three Fifth Form boys--one of whom took Grundy by theshoulders and pushed him away, with the command to "Get out and lie onthe mat"--put an end, for the time being, to the altercation. The crowdincreased: boys of all ages stopped to read the verses; some fewlaughed, and pronounced them jolly good; but to do them justice, thegreater number of Ronleians were too jealous of the honour of theirschool to see much fun in this attempt to lampoon their footballrepresentatives. Just as the bell was ringing for assembly, the paperwas torn down by Trail, the head of the Remove, who ripped it up intofifty pieces, and in answer to Gull's inquiry what he did that for,replied, "I'll jolly soon show you!" in such a menacing tone that thequestioner saw fit to turn on his heel and walk away with an alacrity ofmovement not altogether due to any particular eagerness to commencework.
The Lower Fourth were straggling down the passage on the way to theirclassroom, when they heard a scuffle and the clatter of falling books.Grundy had seized Jack Vance by the collar from behind, and was screwinghis knuckle into his victim's neck.
> "Yes; you called me a liar, didn't you?"
"So you are! Let go my coat!"
"Oh, so you stick to it, do you? I'll--"
The sentence was interrupted by Jack giving a sudden twist and strikinghis antagonist a heavy blow in the chest, which sent him staggeringagainst the opposite wall. Grundy was nearly a head taller than Vance;but the latter's blood was up, and in another moment the dogs of warwould have assuredly broken loose had not the flutter of a gown at theend of the passage announced the advent of Mr. Greyling.
The class had finished translating from their Latin author, and had justcommenced writing an exercise, when a note was passed over to Jack Vancefrom the desk behind; it was short and to the point:--
"Will you fight me after twelve at the back of the pavilion?--H. GRUNDY."
Jack read the challenge, turned round and nodded, and then went calmlyon with his work as though nothing had happened.
This cool way of treating the matter did not altogether please Grundy,who had rather expected that his adversary would elect to "take alicking." He had, however, every reason to count upon an easyvictory, and so promptly despatched another note, which contained thewords: "Very well. I'll smash you."
Later on a third epistle was handed over: "Don't tell any one, orthere'll be too much of a crowd."
It was not until the interval that the two other members of the TripleAlliance were informed of the coming conflict.
"You don't really mean you're going to fight him?" said Mugford.
"Of course I am."
"You'll get licked!" added Diggory, with a sigh.
"I don't care if I am. If I land him one or two, he won't be in a hurryto lick me again. Don't you remember what you said ages ago at TheBirches, Diggy, when you went down that slide on skates? Well, it's thesame thing with me now. I'm going to show him, once and for all, thathe's not going to ride rough-shod over me for nothing."
During the last hour of school, which happened to be devoted to algebra,the only member of the Triple Alliance who seemed able to work was JackVance. Diggory made a hash of nearly every sum, while Mugford simplycollapsed, and could not even remember that like signs made _plus_, andunlike _minus_.
"I say, Diggy," whispered the latter, "don't you think Grundy'll lickhim?"
"I don't know," returned the other, with a desperate attempt to becheerful; "you never know what may happen. He may--"
"Trevanock, stop talking," interrupted Mr. Greyling. "If I have tospeak to you again for inattention, you'll stay in and work out theseexamples after twelve."
At length the faint jangle of the bell announced the fact that theeventful hour had arrived: the Lower Fourth passed on into the bigschoolroom, and were dismissed with the other classes.
Jack betrayed not the least sign of excitement, and insisted on goingdown into the grub-room to feed two white mice before setting out forthe "front." His two friends, however, weighed down with anxiety, andwith dismal forebodings as to the result of the coming conflict, wereobliged to seek support by informing "Rats" of what was about to takeplace, and begging him to give them the benefit of his cheering company.
Young "Rats," who was always ready to take part in anything from agarden party to a game of marbles, immediately accepted the invitation.
"Jolly glad you told me," he cried; "wouldn't have missed seeing it foranything. Jack Vance and Grundy--whew-w-w!"
The long whistle with which he concluded the sentence had certainly anominous sound, but the appearance of their principal was the signal forthe seconds to hide their fears under an assumed air of jovialconfidence.
"You'll be certain to lick him, Jack," said Diggory, with a face as longas a fiddle;--"won't he, 'Rats'?"
"Lick him!" answered "Rats;" "I should think so! Lick him into fits;I could do it myself."
"He's a beastly bully," added Mugford solemnly; "and bullies always getlicked--in books."
"I don't care," answered Jack jauntily, "if I lick him or not, but Iknow he'll find me a pretty hard nut to crack."
Ronleigh had no recognized duelling-ground, but when a premeditatedencounter did take place, the combatants usually resorted to a littlepatch of grass situated between the back of the pavilion and the edgeof the adjoining field. Here it was possible to conduct an affair ofhonour without much fear of interruption.
Grundy was already at the trysting-place, accompanied by Andson, a chumfrom the Upper Fourth, and Fletcher junior. It was quite an informallittle gathering, and the business was conducted in a free-and-easymanner, and with an entire absence of the cut-and-dried ceremony whichcharacterized similar undertakings in the palmy days of the prize ring.
"Look here, young Vance," said Grundy, "if you like to apologize forcalling me a liar, I'll let you off; if not, I'm going to punch yourhead."
"Punch away!" answered Jack stolidly, and all further attempt atpacification was abandoned.
The principals took off their coats and collars, while their companionsdrew aside to give them room, and the signal was given to commence theaction.
Grundy made no attempt at any display of science; he simply relied onhis superior strength and size, and charged down upon his adversary withthe intention of thumping and pounding him till he gave in. Jack Vanceknew very little about the "noble art," except that it was the properthing to hit straight from the shoulder; and following out thisfundamental principle, he succeeded in landing his opponent a good harddrive between the eyes, which made him see more stars than are to bewitnessed at the explosion of a sixpenny rocket. Grundy drew back, andafter blinking and rubbing his nose for a moment, came on again, thistime with greater caution. Jack, on the other hand, emboldened by hisprevious success, made an unwise attempt to rush the fighting, and wasrewarded with a sounding smack on the cheek-bone which broke the skinand sent him staggering back into the arms of Diggory.
Once more the combatants approached each other, this time with a littlemore feinting and dodging, which showed a certain amount of respect forthe weight of each other's fists. At length, urged on to further featsof arms by impatient ejaculations of "Now, then, go into it!" and "Keepthe game alive!" from Fletcher and Andson, they closed again, and aftera sharp interchange of rather random pounding, Jack smote his opponenton the nose, and received in return a heavy blow on the chest which verynearly sent him to the ground.
After this there was another short breathing-space; a thin stream ofblood was trickling from Grundy's nasal organ, while Diggory and Mugfordnoticed with aching hearts that their comrade was beginning to lookrather limp, and was getting short of breath.
What would have been the ultimate result of the contest had it beenresumed I am sure I cannot say, but I fear that, taking Grundy'ssuperior weight and height into consideration, the story of the fightwould have been recorded among the trials and not the triumphs of theTriple Alliance. As it was, a sudden interruption brought the encounterto a premature close.
"Hullo, you young beggars! what are you up to?"
The voice was that of Allingford, who, attracted by cries of "Go it!"--"Give him another!"--"Bravo, Vance!" and other warlike shouts, hadhurried round to the rear of the pavilion to find out what washappening.
"Hullo!" he continued, stepping forward and grasping Grundy by theshoulder; "what's up? what's the joke?"
"It's only a bit of a fight," said Andson; "they had a row thismorning."
"What, d'you mean to say you're fighting that youngster? Why don't youchoose some one a bit smaller?" demanded the captain, rather bitterly.
"Well, it's his own doing," growled Grundy. "I offered to let him off,but he wanted to have it out."
"Pshaw!" returned the other. "Look here, I've half a mind to give youtwo a jolly good 'impot' to keep you out of mischief. Now stop it,d'you hear, or I'll send both your names in to Denson."
Fletcher and Andson had already beaten a retreat, and Grundy waspreparing to follow, when Allingford called him back.
"Come," he said, in a kinder tone. "I don't know wha
t your quarrel'sabout, but finish it up like men, and shake hands."
The boys did as they were told, and though the salutation was not a veryhearty one, it helped to extinguish the smouldering sparks of angerwhich might at some future meeting have been once more fanned into aflame.
Grundy disappeared round the corner of the building; but Allingfordremained for a moment or two, watching Jack Vance as he fastened on hiscollar and resumed his coat.
"Well, what was the row about?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Nonsense; fellows don't fight for nothing. What was it? Any greatsecret?"
"Oh no," answered Jack, laughing: "it began about that lot of versesthat was pinned upon the notice-board this morning. Grundy saidThurston was turned out of the team, and I said he wasn't."
The captain smiled thoughtfully, and going down on one knee examined thewounded cheek. "Put some cold water to it," he said, and then walkedaway.
That look was worth fifty bruises, and for it Jack would have continuedthe fight with Grundy to the bitter end. Diggory and Mugford fell uponhis neck, and were loud in their declarations that in another roundtheir champion would have "knocked the stuffing out" of his opponent.That this would really have been the case is, as I remarked before,rather doubtful; but one fact is certain--that the conflict caused thethree friends to be more firmly established than ever in their loyaltyto the side of law and order.
For a couple of days fellows continued to talk about the skit on theeleven, and to hazard guesses as to who was the writer. As themajority, however, pronounced it "a dirty shame," and spoke of theauthor as "some mean skunk," the poet wisely concluded to conceal hisidentity, and by the end of the week the matter was, for the time being,practically forgotten.
