CHAPTER VI.
A RECTORIAL ELECTION.
It took some little time before his son, who was half-choked withlaughter, could explain to the energetic doctor that the gentleman uponwhom he was perched was not a dangerous lunatic, but, on the contrary, avery harmless and innocent member of society. When at last it was madeclear to him, the doctor released his prisoner and was profuse in hisapologies.
"This is my father, Garraway," said Dimsdale. "I hardly expected him soearly."
"I must offer you a thousand apologies, sir. The fact is that I amrather short-sighted, and had no time to put my glasses on. It seemedto me to be a most dangerous scuffle."
"Don't mention it, sir," said Garraway, with great good humour.
"And you, Tom, you rogue, is this the way you spend your mornings?I expected to find you deep in your books. I told your landlady that Ihardly liked to come up for fear of disturbing you at your work. You goup for your first professional in a few weeks, I understand?"
"That will be all right, dad," said his son demurely. "Garraway and Iusually take a little exercise of this sort as a preliminary to thelabours of the day. Try this armchair and have a cigarette."
The doctor's eye fell upon the medical works and the disarticulatedskull, and his ill-humour departed.
"You have your tools close at hand, I see," he remarked.
"Yes, dad, all ready."
"Those bones bring back old memories to me. I am rusty in my anatomy,but I dare say I could stump you yet. Let me see now. What are thedifferent foramina of the sphenoid bone, and what structures passthrough them? Eh?"
"Coming!" yelled his son. "Coming!" and dashed out of the room.
"I didn't hear any one call," observed the doctor.
"Didn't you, sir?" said Garraway, pulling on his coat. "I thought Iheard a noise."
"You read with my son, I believe?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then perhaps you can tell me what the structures are which pass throughthe foramina of the sphenoid?"
"Oh yes, sir. There is the--All right, Tom, all right! Excuse me, sir!He is calling me;" and Garraway vanished as precipitately as his friendhad done. The doctor sat alone, puffing at his cigarette, and broodingover his own dullness of hearing.
Presently the two students returned, looking just a little shame-faced,and plunged instantly into wild talk about the weather, the town, andthe University--anything and everything except the sphenoid bone.
"You have come in good time to see something of University life," saidyoung Dimsdale. "To-day we elect our new Lord Rector. Garraway and Iwill take you down and show you the sights."
"I have often wished to see something of it," his father answered."I was apprenticed to my profession, Mr. Garraway, in the old-fashionedway, and had few opportunities of attending college."
"Indeed, sir."
"But I can imagine it all. What can be more charming than the sight ofa community of young men all striving after knowledge, and emulatingeach other in the ardour of their studies? Not that I would grudge themrecreation. I can fancy them strolling in bands round the classicprecincts of their venerable University, and amusing themselves bydiscussing the rival theories of physiologists or the latest additionsto the pharmacopoeia."
Garraway had listened with becoming gravity to the commencement of thisspeech, but at the last sentence he choked and vanished for the secondtime out of the room.
"Your friend seems amused," remarked Dr. Dimsdale mildly.
"Yes. He gets taken like that sometimes," said his son. "His brothersare just the same. I have hardly had a chance yet to say how glad I amto see you, dad."
"And I to see you, my dear boy. Your mother and Kate come up by thenight train. I have private rooms at the hotel."
"Kate Harston! I can only remember her as a little quiet girl with longbrown hair. That was six years ago. She promised to be pretty."
"Then she has fulfilled her promise. But you shall judge that foryourself. She is the ward of John Girdlestone, the African merchant,but we are the only relations she has upon earth. Her father was mysecond cousin. She spends a good deal of her time now with us atPhillimore Gardens--as much as her guardian will allow. He prefers tohave her under his own roof, and I don't blame him, for she is like aray of sunshine in the house. It was like drawing his teeth to get himto consent to this little holiday, but I stuck at it until I wearied himout--fairly wearied him out." The little doctor chuckled at the thoughtof his victory, and stretched out his thick legs towards the fire.
"This examination will prevent me from being with you as much as Iwish."
"That's right, my boy; let nothing interfere with your work."
"Still, I think I am pretty safe. I am glad they have come now, fornext Wednesday is the international football match. Garraway and I arethe two Scotch half-backs. You must all come down and see it."
"I'll tell you what, Dimsdale," said Garraway, reappearing in thedoorway, "if we don't hurry up we shall see nothing of the election.It is close on twelve."
"I am all ready," cried Dr. Dimsdale, jumping to his feet and buttoninghis coat.
"Let us be off, then," said his son; and picking up hats and sticks theyclattered off down the lodging-house stairs.
A rectorial election is a peculiarly Scotch institution, and, however itmay strike the impartial observer, it is regarded by the studentsthemselves as a rite of extreme solemnity and importance from whichgrave issues may depend. To hear the speeches and addresses of rivalorators one would suppose that the integrity of the constitution and thevery existence of the empire hung upon the return of their specialnominee. Two candidates are chosen from the most eminent of eitherparty and a day is fixed for the polling. Every undergraduate has avote, but the professors have no voice in the matter. As the duties arenominal and the position honourable, there is never any lack ofdistinguished aspirants for a vacancy. Occasionally some well-knownliterary or scientific man is invited to become a candidate, but as arule the election is fought upon strictly political lines, with all theold-fashioned accompaniments of a Parliamentary contest.
For months before the great day there is bustle and stir. Secretcommittees meet, rules are formulated, and insidious agents prowl aboutwith an eye to the political training of those who have not yet nailedtheir colours to any particular mast. Then comes a grand meeting of theLiberal Students' Association, which is trumped by a dinner of theUndergraduates' Conservative Society. The campaign is then in fullswing. Great boards appear at the University gates, on which pithysatires against one or other candidate, parodies on songs, quotationsfrom their speeches, and gaudily painted cartoons are posted. Those whoare supposed to be able to feel the pulse of the University move aboutwith the weight of much knowledge upon their brows, throwing out hintsas to the probable majority one way or the other. Some profess to knowit to a nicety. Others shake their heads and remark vaguely that thereis not much to choose either way. So week after week goes by, until theexcitement reaches a climax when the date of the election comes round.
There was no need upon that day for Dr. Dimsdale or any other strangerin the town to ask his way to the University, for the whooping andyelling which proceeded from that usually decorous building might havebeen heard from Prince's Street to Newington. In front of the gates wasa dense crowd of townspeople peering through into the quadrangle, andderiving much entertainment from the movements of the lively younggentlemen within. Large numbers of the more peaceable undergraduatesstood about under the arches, and these quickly made a way for thenewcomers, for both Garraway and Dimsdale as noted athletes commanded arespect among their fellow-students which medallists and honours menmight look for in vain.
The broad open quadrangle, and all the numerous balconies and terraceswhich surround it, were crowded with an excited mob of students. Thewhole three thousand odd electors who stand upon the college rollsappeared to be present, and the noise which they were making would havereflected credit on tr
eble their number. The dense crowd surged andseethed without pause or rest. Now and again some orator would behoisted up on the shoulders of his fellows, when an oscillation of thecrowd would remove his supporters and down he would come, only to besucceeded by another at some other part of the assembly. The name ofeither candidate would produce roars of applause and equally vigoroushowls of execration. Those who were lucky enough to be in the balconiesabove hurled down missiles on the crowd beneath--peas, eggs, potatoes,and bags of flour or of sulphur; while those below, wherever they foundroom to swing an arm, returned the fusillade with interest.The doctor's views of academical serenity and the high converse ofpallid students vanished into thin air as he gazed upon the madtumultuous scene. Yet, in spite of his fifty years, he laughed asheartily as any boy at the wild pranks of the young politicians, and theruin which was wrought upon broad-cloth coat and shooting jacket by thehail of unsavoury projectiles.
The crowd was most dense and most noisy in front of the class-room inwhich the counting of the votes was going forward. At one the resultwas to be announced, and as the long hand of the great clock crepttowards the hour, a hush of expectation fell upon the assembly.The brazen clang broke harshly out, and at the same moment the foldingdoors were flung open, and a knot of men rushed out into the crowd, whoswirled and eddied round them. The centre of the throng was violentlyagitated, and the whole mass of people swayed outwards and inwards.For a minute or two the excited combatants seethed and struggled withouta clue as to the cause of the commotion. Then the corner of a largeplacard was elevated above the heads of the rioters, on which wasvisible the word "Liberal" in great letters, but before it could beraised further it was torn down, and the struggle became fiercer thanever. Up came the placard again--the other corner this time--with theword "Majority" upon it, and then immediately vanished as before.Enough had been seen, however, to show which way the victory had gone,and shouts of triumph arose everywhere, with waving of hats and clatterof sticks. Meanwhile, in the centre the two parties fought round theplacard, and the commotion began to cover a wider area, as either sidewas reinforced by fresh supporters. One gigantic Liberal seized theboard, and held it aloft for a moment, so that it could be seen in itsentirety by the whole multitude:
LIBERAL MAJORITY,
241.
But his triumph was short-lived. A stick descended upon his head, hisheels were tripped up, and he and his placard rolled upon the groundtogether. The victors succeeded, however, in forcing their way to theextreme end of the quadrangle, where, as every Edinburgh man knows, thefull-length statue of Sir David Brewster looks down upon the classicground which he loved so well. An audacious Radical swarmed up upon thepedestal and balanced the obnoxious notice on the marble arms of theprofessor. Thus converted into a political partisan, the reveredinventor of the kaleidoscope became the centre of a furious struggle,the vanquished politicians making the most desperate efforts to destroythe symbol of their opponents' victory, while the others offered anequally vigorous resistance to their attacks. The struggle was stillproceeding when Dimsdale removed his father, for it was impossible tosay what form the riot might assume.
"What Goths! what barbarians!" cried the little doctor, as they walkeddown the Bridges. "And this is my dream of refined quiet and studiousrepose!"
"They are not always like that, sir," said his son apologetically."They were certainly a little jolly to-day."
"A little jolly!" cried the doctor. "You rogue, Tom. I believe if Ihad not been there you would have been their ringleader."
He glanced from one to the other, and it was so evident from theexpression of their faces that he had just hit the mark, that he burstinto a great guffaw of laughter, in which, after a moment's hesitation,his two young companions heartily joined.
The Firm of Girdlestone Page 6
