King of Ranleigh: A School Story

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER XVI

  A GREAT DISTURBANCE

  Time waits for no one, and that statement was as true of Ranleigh boysas of any others. Clive Darrell, in a mere twinkling as it seemed, hadbecome quite an old stager at the school. Since that momentous matchwhen Sturton had led his eleven to victory, thereby stimulating Clive todeclare the most ambitious of sentiments, two and a half years hadslipped by, two and half years which had seen great changes at Ranleigh.

  "But always the Old Firm hangs on and exists," reflected Bert, as he saton the table in Upper Sixth and stared into the fire. "I remember theterm when Harvey left."

  "One of the best," interjected Susanne, now no longer a gawky,ill-dressed youth, given to smoking cigarettes on every occasion, butspick-and-span, as immaculate as Rawlings, very English in appearance,and looking quite twenty-one years of age, for the great Susanne sporteda moustache, and could, had he wished it, as he often declared, havegrown a beard even.

  "Better than any of the masters, too," he had said. "Awful bore, don'tyou know, you fellows. A chap has to shave regularly now every day. Thatmeans getting up half an hour earlier----"

  "Draw it mild," Hugh had cried. "Half an hour. That's enough for a dozenshaves."

  Whereat Susanne had crushed his friend with a withering glance and anair of superiority which made Hugh blush.

  "What do you know of shaving?" he had asked satirically, closelyinspecting his friend's smooth chin. "Not much. You're a baby."

  But the subject under discussion was the change which had come toRanleigh. Harvey had swayed the destinies of the school. Then Sturtonhad come upon the scene with his new ideas of exercise for all everyday. Clive remembered the success of that innovation. Then Lawton, anUpper Sixth fellow, had followed, and held the post for more than ayear. Later Franklin had ascended to the giddy height to which Cliveventured to aim. As to the Old Firm, as Bert had said, it still clungtenaciously together.

  "As big friends as ever," reflected Susanne. "That's something. Ofcourse, there have been rows, eh?"

  "Some. That one between Masters and Clive was a bad un. Remember it?"

  Susanne did. It was back in a past age. It had taken place long ago. Butin those days it had appeared excessively severe, and had threatened thebreak-up of the partnership. And the cause was really so very simple.

  "All about a cricket ball," laughed Bert. "Masters had lost one."

  "Yes, Masters always does lose something," agreed Susanne. "Of course,he discovered the exact article in Clive's locker."

  "Of course! And claimed it."

  "Refused all explanations. Almost went to the extreme of accusing Cliveof theft. In the end said he must have put the ball there himself inmistake. They fought it out."

  That was where the seriousness of the thing came in. And yet, lookingback upon the event, there was little doubt that the tussle which hadresulted cleared the air wonderfully. For Clive and Masters went at oneanother with their fists, and having struggled through half a dozenrounds were declared to have made a drawn battle of it. Of course theyshook hands. In fact, within ten minutes of the finish of the contestthey were chatting in the old amicable manner and demolishing a cakewhich had arrived at the school for one of them that very morning.

  "And the funny thing about it all was that the cricket ball--the oneMasters had lost--was discovered tucked away in a corner of his ownlocker, where, no doubt, he himself had placed it," laughed Susanne."That's Masters all over. Flares out in an instant. Licks the dustafterwards when he knows he's wrong, and makes the most ample apologies.By the way, Bert, I wish that fellow Rawlings would take himself off. Hespoils our happy family here. No one wants him, and precious few trusthim. Besides, he's too old to be at the school any longer. He ought tohave gone up to the 'Varsity long ago."

  It may be said with truth and fairness that Susanne was by no meansprejudiced. He didn't like Rawlings, and never had done so. More thanthat, Rawlings was decidedly unpopular, and had been so from the daywhen the ranks of the Old Firm had been recruited. Had he beendifferent, more friendly and less underhanded, he would most certainlyhave been captain of the school. As it was the Sixth voted _en masse_against him, a fact which Rawlings did not fail to perceive. It made himfurious. He hated his fellow prefects, detested the masters, and wasstupidly and outrageously jealous of them all. And the presence of thisunpopular fellow, older than any of the others in Upper Sixth, was adamper to their enjoyment. He was a damper elsewhere. In East he washead prefect, and a martinet. He seemed to air there all thehigh-handed manners he loved so much, and which were forbidden in hisclass-room. Why he remained on at the school was a problem which nonecould solve. But there he was, barred by the Sixth, detested by thejuniors in his dormitory, and disliked by not a few of the masters.

  Clive, too, had ascended to the Upper Sixth. It may be said, indeed,that his rise had been meteoric. Of a sudden he had taken most seriouslyto work, had developed an acuteness hitherto unsuspected, and much tothe delight of Old B., who coached him, had rushed his way up the schooltill now he was the youngest fellow in his form. A prefect also, he wassenior in his old dormitory, reigning where Sturton had once held sway.

  Masters had managed to crawl to the Lower Sixth, and was noted in theschool more for games than for lessons. His sturdy, genial figureattracted the admiring eye of many a junior as he tramped the corridor,and when we admit that he was still as much a boy as ever, we do no harmto his reputation. Trendall, now an excellent fellow, was with Susanneand Bert in the Upper Sixth, while Hugh, now Ranleigh's chief exponentof gymnastics, was in the Upper Fifth.

  It seemed, in fact, that nothing more could be wanted by the Old Firmand their fellows at Ranleigh to complete their happiness, and thatsomething approaching an earthquake would be needed to upset theirequanimity. However, it is the unexpected which always happens, and onenight Ranleigh was stirred to the very depths of its foundations.

  "Darrell--I say, Darrell," whispered a tremulous voice somewhere nearthe hour of midnight, while a ghost-like figure bent over him. "Darrell,please, are you awake?"

  Clive wasn't. He stirred uneasily at the touch of this junior's hand,for Parfit, the boy who had stolen across from his bed to wake him, washardly eleven years of age. Naturally timid at the thought of disturbingso august a person as the head prefect of his dormitory, Parfit quakedas Clive rolled over on to his other side and snored. Then, as if forcedon by desperation, the lad shook him with a heavy hand.

  "Darrell, please," he called. "I--I----"

  "Hullo!" Clive sat up, gaping and rubbing his eyes. "Bell gone! Eh? Thenwhat the dickens----! Why, it's Parfit."

  "Please, Darrell," said the youth, "I'm awfully sorry for waking you,but----"

  "You'll need your sorrow, young un," came the none too friendlyinterruption, for Clive, like others, objected to be roused in themiddle of the night without due reason. Not that he was hard with hisjuniors. Indeed, he was always jovial with them.

  "Well, what is it?" he asked, hearing the boy's teeth chattering, and atonce speaking to him kindly. "Been scared, eh? Been dreaming somethingthat's disturbed you? Well, cut along, young un, you'll be all right."

  But Parfit had no intention of cutting. "It's not dreaming, Darrell," hesaid eagerly. "It's fire."

  "Fire!"

  "Yes, I--I think. I'm next to the door, and I feel sure I can smellsmoke. Please, Darrell, I hope you won't be angry, but I felt bound tocome and wake you."

  Clive was out of his bed like a shot, and getting into his dressing-gownand slippers before Parfit could believe it.

  "You get back to bed, young un. I'll go and see. And don't talk of beingsorry. If you smelled smoke, or thought you did, why, of course, thething to do was to wake me. I'd have licked you if it had been a pieceof foolery. But, right or wrong, you can expect only thanks for whatyou've done. So cut, there's a sensible fellow. I'll hop downstairs andsee whether there's anything in it."

  He slipped down the length of the dormitory while Parfit was thankinghim, and swiftl
y pulled the door open.

  "Yes, smoke," he told himself, sniffing. "And thick. I can see it comingup the stairway."

  There was a gas jet on the stairs, kept burning all night, and sureenough, by the light it gave, smoke could be seen filtering up thestairs and whirling in thin wisps over the banisters. Clive shut thedoor behind him, gathered his dressing-gown about his body, and randownstairs.

  "I can hear crackling," he told himself, stopping for a second or moreto listen. "That means a fire. George! This is serious!"

  It was more, as he discovered when he reached the foot of the stairs.For there the smoke was dense and suffocating. It was swirling from theopposite side of the wide corridor passing between the two staircasesleading to the South Dormitories, while beneath the one giving access toTwo and Three South the flash of flames could be seen through the densehaze.

  "A fire under the stairs. Spreading fast, by the look of it," Clivethought. "It'll reach the gallery above, perhaps, and then the fellowsin South Dormitories would be cut off and would have to clear outthrough the door to West landing. What ought a fellow to do?"

  His inclination was to go tearing off up the stairs to his owndormitory, there to awaken the boys, while he rapped hard at the doorof the room leading out of One South, occupied by Mr. Branson. And thenhe thought of the excitement which would result once the alarm wassounded.

  "Make sure that it's a bad thing first of all," he said. "I'm going tosquint in through that door and see what's happening."

  His eyes were shedding streams of tears by now, for the pungent smokeattacked them remorselessly. Then, too, he was choking violently. Tocross the wide corridor below and open the door beneath the farstairway, behind which the fire lay without a doubt, meant encounteringdenser and still more choking fumes. But Clive did not think of thediscomfort or of the danger of the act. He thought of the welfare ofRanleigh, of the commotion there would be were he to give an alarm, andof the fact that action on the part of himself and others of theprefects in South Dormitories might put an end to the fire, and thatwithout disturbing others. Wrapping the tail of his dressing-gown roundhis mouth, therefore, he darted to the bottom of the stairs and racedacross the corridor, diving into a swirling cloud of choking vapourthrough which he could not see. But the reflection of the flames withinthe door he aimed for caught his eye. He felt for the handle and pushedthe door open. Instantly flames blazed out at him, while hot smokepoured into his face, enveloped him completely, and went swirling up tothe roof. There was a perfect furnace beneath those stairs. He couldhear the woodwork all around crackling. It was clear that theconflagration was of a serious nature and most threatening. Instantly hebanged the hot door to, and raced across for his own stairway. And inthe short time it took him to ascend he had made up his mind how to act.

  "Wake Susanne first. Let him do the same for the other prefects. Thentake towels, blankets, and water. If the thing can't be beaten out,we'll wake Mr. Branson, and turn every fellow out of the dormitories.Here goes for Susanne."

  But a violent fit of coughing doubled him up at the top of the stairs,and for a while he was helpless. "Please, Darrell," he heard in themidst of the attack, while Parfit's voice came feebly to him, "is--is itsmoke? Is there a fire?"

  Clive did not deign to answer. He shook off the fit of coughing with aneffort and raced into Two South. He knew exactly where Susanne slept,and soon had that worthy along with him. In fact, in less than twominutes every prefect in South was mustered. Taking their bath towelswith them and bearing cans of water they dashed down the stairs, whileClive himself reached for the extinguisher kept on every landing.

  "We'll give it a trial," he said to Susanne. "If we don't make any sortof effect on the fire we'll sound an alarm, collect all prefects, andman the hoses. In fact, as only three or four of us can work below, I'llget Slater and Gregory to mount the nearest there is. Come on, youfellows."

  A word to the two junior prefects, Slater and Gregory, sent them offpost-haste to the nearest stand-pipe, near which a hose was coiled,while Clive led the way down the stairs to the site of the fire.

  "Tie your towels round your faces," he gasped, for the smoke was evenmore irritating now, and was denser even. "Now, we've half a dozen cansof water between us. I'll open the door. Let my extinguisher play on theflames for a while, and then finish the business with water."

  But though an extinguisher may be an excellent invention, and willextinguish a fire swiftly, its successful action depends entirely on onepoint. The contents must be delivered on the fire direct, and to thatend the one who grips it must approach sufficiently close to the flames.Here, as it happened, that was almost impossible. For when thestaircase door was thrown open the improvised brigade was swept back byan appalling gush of flame and smoke. Clive ducked his head, turned hisface away, and set the extinguisher going. But the effect was _nil_, forthe actual fire was situated round the angle of the door. Clive forcedhis way nearer till he was within two feet of the entrance, andendeavoured to direct the jet round the corner. And then Susanne draggedhim backward.

  "THE IMPROVISED BRIGADE WAS SWEPT BACK BY AN APPALLINGGUSH OF FLAME AND SMOKE."]

  "You can't do it," he said peremptorily. "Your clothes are on firealready. Here, you chaps, help to beat them out."

  The effort to say as much set him coughing violently. But the words wereheard distinctly, and Martin and Fellows, two of the helpers, at onceattacked the flames which had taken hold of Clive's dressing-gown. Amoment later the whole party was forced into the outer corridor by aneven fiercer blast of flame, accompanied by pungent smoke.

  They gasped for breath, and then looked desperately at one another.

  "We must rouse the school," declared Clive.

  "Certain," came from Susanne.

  "Then let's do it. I'll take South. Susanne, will you go to North?Martin can take East and Fellows West. Don't shout. Wake the chapsquietly. I'm going to shut that door first, though, and see whatGregory is doing."

  There was no time for discussion, for it was clear that they had aserious fire to contend with. And though Ranleigh, like every otherwell-managed school, where thought is taken for such a happening, wasequipped with extinguishers and hoses, while the boys were given firedrill at regular intervals, it looked as if this outbreak might provetoo serious for them. Clive looked grave when he thought of what mighthappen.

  "Couldn't expect much help from the village," he told himself. "Thewhole place would be on fire before they could possibly get here. We'vegot to fight this thing out ourselves. Ah, there's Gregory. Got itfixed?" he asked, as that youth came panting through the smoke towardshim.

  "Nearly," came the answer. "We shall want another length of hose. I'mgoing for the one at the end of the corridor. We'll have it ready in twominutes."

  "Then I'll get up to the fellows in South. Look here, Gregory, I'm goingto shut that door now. When you've got the hose going, break the placeopen and play direct on the flames."

  He dived through the smoke, his towel pulled up to his eyes, and, led bythe red glare of the flames, was soon near the door. But the heat wasnow overpowering. Though Clive tried twice, he could not get near thathandle, while at the end of the second attempt his gown was again inflames and he had to beat hard with his hands to extinguish them.Meanwhile, the peace and tranquillity of Ranleigh's night was swiftlybeing disturbed. A hum was coming from the dormitories. Clive found OneSouth in a condition of animation.

  "Turn out, you fellows," he said, as if this was the most natural thingto expect them to do, and as if it were the usual time for rising. "Stayhere till I give you permission to move. I'm going into the other SouthDormitories. I shall want Peart and Godfrey and Offord when I get back.You other fellows had better make a bundle of your things. There's afire below. I'll kick the first fellow who makes a shindy."

  One by one he awoke the dormitories, commanding the boys in Two andThree South to gather their belongings at once and pass out through FourSouth. By the time he reached his own dormitory again every boy wa
sready, while those he had called for were standing in the gloom by thedoor.

  "You others skip," said Clive, still in his ordinary tones. "Peart, goalong to the Head's house and ring till he answers. Tell him what'shappening. Godfrey, you get off to the Matron, and knock at her door.Tell her not to be alarmed, but merely to make ready and warn the maids.Offord, your job is to rouse the butler and the beakies, and tell oldSant to cut the gas off at the meter. There, off you bundle."

  He seemed to have been giving directions for an age, whereas from thecommencement, when Parfit had wakened him, till this moment, but veryfew minutes had elapsed. But those few minutes had made all thedifference to the conflagration. When Clive dashed out of the dormitory,having wakened Mr. Branson, and descended the stairs, the oppositestaircase was blazing, the flames sweeping right up to the roof of thecorridor. The crackle of flames could now be distinctly heard, mingledwith a curious sizzling. In the far background, through the doorsleading to the quad, as a rule kept firmly fastened, he imagined hecould make out a group. Then thick volumes of smoke hid everything. Hefelt someone step down beside him, and then heard Mr. Branson speak.

  "It's serious," he said. "You've called the Head?"

  "Everyone, sir," said Clive. "Gregory's out there, I think, with one ofthe hoses. Fancy we could do something from here. I'll see."

  Unceremonious at such a time, he bolted up the stairs again and so tothe West landing. Five minutes later he and Susanne held the nozzle of asecond hose, and from the point of vantage which the stairs gave thempoured a torrent of water into the blazing mass on the opposite side ofthe corridor.

  Meanwhile, it may be imagined that Ranleigh was in a condition ofdisturbance, though thanks to the example which Clive had set in thefirst place, and which Susanne and the others had so naturally copied,there was no panic, nor even shouting. Perhaps five minutes after thefirst alarm, when it had become obvious that the whole school must beroused, every Ranleigh boy was assembled in the quadrangle, where,pressing as close as possible, they watched Gregory and his friendsdirecting water upon the flames. They would have hampered the workerseven had not Masters and Trendall promptly taken a grip of thesituation.

  "Look here, you fellows," cried the former, "you'll all get back to thisline here. That'll give the brigade every chance to do their work.Trendall, send along anyone who breaks the rule. I'll deal with 'em."

  There was something sinister in the speech, and hearing his voiceRanleigh obeyed on the instant. For Masters was accustomed to speak injovial tones. With him an order came always as a request, such as, "Oh,I say, Parker, just cut along like a good chap and bring down my crickettogs," or, "You fellows here in Middle, there's a beastly noise. Go onwith your prep., do."

  And his requests were obeyed with promptness as a general rule. If not,on rare occasions, Masters could become very insistent. But he wasseldom threatening, and hearing the threat in his voice now small boysslunk back to the quad steps and, with bulging eyes, watched the fireover the heads of their seniors. Fellows in the Upper School shuffledbackwards, eyeing Masters askance, while even those in Upper Fifth,fellows soon to be prefects and perhaps a trifle jealous of the Sixthand of those in authority, quelled their inclination to push to thefront.

  At this moment the familiar figure of the Head arrived on the scene.

  "Who's directing matters?" he asked of Mr. Branson, who stood beside thegroup of boys plying their hose from the entrance to the quad.

  "Well, I am partly, and Darrell is mostly," came the answer. "Of course,I haven't had time yet to learn how the thing was discovered. But when Iwas awakened Darrell had made all arrangements. He and those with him,Feofe and others, have behaved splendidly. There hasn't been a sign ofpanic. Boys in South have cleared out with all their belongings."

  "Good. Where is he? What other directions has he given?" asked the Head.

  A gust of wind at that moment went swirling through the centre corridorpast the fire, sucking long tongues of flame along with it and carryingthem toward the chapel. But it also had the effect of sweeping the smokeaway, enabling those in the quad to see their comrades grouped on thestaircase opposite the one beneath which the fire raged. There theywere, sheltering behind the blistering woodwork which formed the closedbanisters, the heads of three of them, wrapped in towels saturated withwater, just appearing above the rail. A nozzle between two of the headsgripped by a pair of hands sent a jet of water sizzling across thecorridor into the centre of the fire. The Head thought he couldrecognise in one of those towelled faces the features of Clive Darrell.

  "Can I get through?" he asked, stepping toward the entrance of thecorridor.

  "Too hot, sir," Mr. Branson told him. "You must go round by West. I'llstay here and direct matters. I think we are getting the better of theflames."

  At once the Head of Ranleigh turned and hurried away, the boys collectedin the quad making way for him. And we must state it now with no smalldegree of pride that he set as fine an example as had any of theprefects.

  "Might easily have been a panic, with all the boys rushing here andthere shouting and shrieking," he told himself. "Everything iswonderfully orderly. I must back these boys up. Coolness is what iswanted. But I must also learn what steps Darrell and his helpers havetaken in other directions. That's essential. One has to consider what todo supposing the flames beat us."

  It was therefore, in spite of his hurry, with measured tread and anappearance of unconcern that Ranleigh's Head stalked through theassembled boys and reached West landing. A minute later he was amongstthe prefects on the South staircase, watching that descending jet ofwater pouring into the flames.

  "Which is Darrell?" he asked coolly, and at the sound of his voice oneof the group turned. Clive, for he it was, tore the towel from his faceat once and smiled at the master.

  "Getting it down, sir," he said.

  "Ah! You could leave for a moment? The smoke here makes one cough."

  Clive handed the nozzle to his friends and went up the stairs two at atime. At the top the two stopped to discuss matters.

  "Now, tell me how the thing was discovered and what steps you have takento warn people," asked the Head.

  "Parfit smelled smoke," said Clive hurriedly, anxious to get back to histask. "I came down and found the fire. Then I turned Susanne--er--Feofe,you know, sir."

  "Yes, I know as well as anyone," smiled the Head.

  "I turned him and all the South prefects out. We tried to stop the firewith an extinguisher and cans of water. But the thing had got too firm ahold. It was really serious. Then we decided to call up the school andman the hoses. Gregory and Martin did the last. I sent prefects round tothe various dormitories. Fellows from One South were told to call you,the Matron and the butler and his men. Er--that's all, I think."

  "All? Then you haven't----?"

  "Oh, I forgot," said Clive hurriedly. "Of course, I told 'em to turn offthe gas, so as to save an explosion, and I sent for the butler. One ofthe men got on to his bicycle at once and went off to call the villagebrigade. But we'll be able to do without them, sir. Can I return now,sir?"

  He was eager to get back, and the Head dismissed him with a heartyshake of the hand.

  "You've done splendidly, Darrell," he said. "There really was no need tocall me. I shan't interfere. I shall watch, and if you get the firedown, it will be all of your own doing. I'm proud to have suchprefects."

  Well might he be proud too. The seeds which Harvey and Sturton had sowntwo and more years ago were now bearing fruit with a vengeance. Perhapsat no previous period had Ranleigh been blessed with such a set ofprefects, and here was proof of it. The orderliness of the school undertrying circumstances was extraordinary. The coolness of those who hadtaken the fire in hand, and their measures to warn all and sundry, werereally remarkable. No wonder the Head was filled with a glow of pride.No wonder Ranleigh boys went mad with delight as they saw the flamesextinguished. And then how they cheered the fellows who had beenconducting the fight!

  The early morning
found the Hall filled to overflowing. Masters werethere in full strength. Ranleigh was present without exception, some ofthe smaller boys yawning widely. Even the village fire brigade had beeninvited to partake of refreshments. And then they slowly filed off totheir beds, a whole holiday with late breakfast having been proclaimedfrom the dais. But that holiday was one only in name for Clive andSusanne and a few others. They collected in the Upper Sixth when theschool was almost empty, and Susanne shut the door and turned the key.

  "Now, Clive," he said, "you tell the fellows."

  At once eager glances were cast at our hero. Masters sat up abruptly.Bert stood looking almost fiercely at his old friend, while Trendall wasobviously puzzled. Clive went to the fireplace, leaned against it, andslowly glanced at each of his comrades in succession.

  "It's a beastly thing to have to say," he began, somewhat awkwardly."But I'm bound to tell you. That fire was started on purpose. Someonewanted to burn the school down. I'm positive."

  "What! Positive! Surely there's a mistake," gasped Bert.

  "None. Susanne will tell you. I'm going to show the proofs to everyonepresent, but only on a pledge of secrecy. You give it?"

  They nodded at him one by one.

  "You can trust us to a man," said Masters.

  "Then come. Ourselves and the village sergeant are the only people awareof the business."

  "And, of course, the beggar who carried out the job," said Susannebitterly.

  Never before perhaps had a group of the school seniors looked soserious. Jones Quartus, happening to meet them as they issued from theSixth and passed along the corridor, positively shrank away from them.The group of curious youngsters gathered near the site of the fireshuffled backwards.

  "Here, cut!" commanded Masters abruptly, and at the word they bolted, asif only too eager to escape from the presence of their seniors. ThenClive led the way. When he and his friends returned to the Sixth somefive minutes later, accompanied by the police sergeant, not the smallestdoubt existed in their minds that some miscreant had successfullyattempted arson, and that the fire had been started for some sinisterreason.

  "We've got to get to the bottom of the mystery," said Clive.

  "Yes," agreed Susanne. "But how? That's the difficulty."

  It was, in fact, an absolute necessity, for the two weeks which followedsaw no fewer than three other outbreaks of fire on the school premises,all, however, happily extinguished after causing little damage. It wasno wonder, then, that the prefects of Ranleigh set themselves seriouslyto work to discover the incendiary.