Roger made him a little formal bow. That is most kind of you, Lord Edward.’ His quick wit led him to use the title deliberately in recognition of the fact that Droopy Ned was virtually no longer a schoolfellow, but, on leaving, had become a man.
A smile of appreciation showed in the pale blue eyes. ‘I see you have the making of a man of parts, Mr. Brook, but I shall always remain “Droopy” to my friends, and I hope that I may count you among them.’
Gunston had been standing by with a surly look on his face, and he now shuffled his feet awkwardly. Droopy glanced at him and went on: ‘I must continue my farewells, so I will not detain either of you longer.’
As Gunston turned away with a muttered ‘Good-bye’ Roger said: ‘I envy you vastly going abroad. I would give anything to travel.’
Droopy nodded. ‘No doubt you will, one day. In the meantime all good fortune to you. Pray remember to come and see me on my return.’
‘Indeed, I will. The best of fortune on your journey and my duty to you for rescuing me just now.’
‘ ’Twas a pleasure.’ With another airy wave of his scented handkerchief Droopy Ned followed Gunston down the corridor.
The three were not destined to meet again for several years, but if Roger could have seen into the future it would have been revealed to him that both the others were to enter his life at many of the most important crises in it.
Again and again he was to come up against the pig-headed stupidity of Gunston, as Lieutenant, Captain, Major, Colonel, and, finally as General Sir George on the field of Waterloo. While Droopy Ned was to prove a powerful friend and wise counsellor in the tortuous path that he, Roger Brook, was to tread, as Mr. Pitt’s principal secret agent during the dark days of the French Revolution and the mighty struggle against Napoleon.
2
A Knotty Problem
The Reverend Mr. Tobias Chapwode, or ‘Old Toby’ as he was called by the boys of his House, was by no means one of the most popular masters. His real interest lay in his own special subject, English History, upon which he had written several scholarly books. Had he had an income of his own he would have retired to devote himself exclusively to these studies, but he was dependent on his stipend and so compelled to remain at Sherborne although his duties there often conflicted with his private work.
In consequence, whenever he was immersed in a particularly tricky passage of his writings he became extremely lax and discipline suffered. Then, suddenly becoming aware of this, to restore the situation he would pounce and punish with considerable severity. As the boys were unaware of the cause of this inconsistency in his treatment of them, they were naturally apt to resent it, and some even regarded him as a malicious old man who delighted in deliberately playing a cat and mouse game for his own amusement.
The belief was fostered owing to the fact that few of his pupils ever got to know him. He regarded boys in the main as young animals, whom time alone could change from barbarous little savages into reasoning human beings. Moreover, he considered that his responsibility consisted only in keeping the worst of their natural vices in check and sending them out into the world stuffed with enough knowledge, acquired parrot fashion, to form a basis for further education should they later choose to develop any talents they might have.
Yet to the few of whom he took conscious notice he presented a very different personality. In the seclusion of his untidy, book-bestrewn study he was no longer the reserved and apparently dreamy individual, who nine times out of ten failed to take notice of minor misdemeanours but on the tenth occasion would deal out birchings and impositions with startling suddenness. Those whom he invited there occasionally for purposes other than inflicting punishment, always found him both tolerant and kindly; moreover, he had a strange facility for setting them at their ease and talking to them, not as their House Master, but as a friend.
These favoured few were always boys who had attracted his notice by the promise they showed of becoming something worthwhile later in life. His historical studies had long since made him aware that these were by no means always the youngsters who did best at their lessons and he had an uncanny knack of singling out those showing incipient strength of character, regardless of their talents or lack of them. Among those with whom during the past year he had felt it worth while to bother was Roger Brook.
Roger, therefore, had been in no trepidation on being sent for and, even had he not just been reassured by Droopy Ned, would have felt no qualms as he knocked on Old Toby’s door.
‘Come in,’ boomed a sonorous voice, and on entering the study, Roger saw that, as usual for such interviews, Old Toby had dispensed with all formality. He was a fat, elderly man, with a round face, sharp nose and rather fine green eyes. The desk behind which he sat was covered with a disorderly mass of parchments, his ill-curled grey wig reposed on a wig-stand beside his chair, the double lappets of his white clerical collar were undone and his rusty black gown was stained with spilt snuff.
‘Ah, ’tis you, Brook,’ he said. ‘Come in and sit down. Take that armchair and make yourself comfortable.’
As Roger obeyed, Old Toby scratched his shaven pate and went on with a smile: ‘Now why did I send for you? For the life of me I can’t remember, but ‘twill come back in a minute; that is, if you don’t grudge me the time from your packing for a little conversation.’
‘Of course not, Sir,’ Roger replied politely, marvelling, not for the first time, that his House Master could be so affable when in the seclusion of his own room. ‘I’ve naught left to do but cord my boxes tomorrow morning.’
‘Have you far to go?’
‘Only some forty-odd miles, Sir. I live at Lymington, on the Solent.’
‘Ah, yes. That is something of a cross-country journey, though, and the coaches would serve you ill. You’ve bespoken a post-chaise, no doubt?’
‘No, Sir, I prefer to ride. Jim Button, our groom, will have arranged a change of horses for us on his way over today, and my baggage will go by carrier.’
‘That should be pleasant if the weather is clement, as it has been these few days past. You’ll take the turnpike road to Poole and so on through Christchurch, I suppose?’
Roger shook his head. ‘We go by way of Blandford, and then through the New Forest. The tracks are quite passable at this time of year, and the forest glades are wondrous beautiful.’
‘You’re not afraid of footpads then,’ Old Tony smiled. ‘’Tis common knowledge that the forest is rarely free of such dangerous gentry.’
‘I’ve never met any, Sir. But if we do we’ll hope to give a good account of ourselves. Jim always ports his blunderbuss and he’ll bring me my brace of pistols.’
‘You would stand and fight, then?’
‘Why not, Sir?’ Roger’s dark eyes gleamed with excitement at the thought. ‘I can shoot the pip out of an ace at fifteen paces, but I’ve had no opportunity to try my pistols on a human target, yet. I’d like the chance.’
Old Toby chuckled. ‘You young spitfire! Our Master-at-Arms tells me, too, that you are becoming quite a dangerous antagonist with the foils. But this recalls to me the matter about which I wished to talk. Does the interest you display in weapons incline you to the profession of Arms?’
Roger hesitated only a second, then he decided that Old Toby would not resent it if he was absolutely frank. ‘To be honest, Sir, there is nothing that I would hate more than going into the Navy or Army. You see, I know ’tis very wrong of me, but I just can’t bear to be ordered about. I don’t mean that I resent being told what to do by people I respect, like yourself. But some of the other Masters—well, they often make rules to suit their own convenience without a thought as to how they will affect us boys. That’s the privilege of their position, of course, and one accepts it as philosophically as one can—as long as one remains at school. But I think anyone a fool who, on leaving, deliberately saddles himself with a new lot of masters for the rest of his life.’
It was an exceptionally strong statement from a boy not
yet sixteen, in an age when the word of all parents was a law against which there was no appeal and rigid discipline was regarded as the essential backbone of the whole structure of society. But Old Toby’s face showed no sign of disapproval at this declaration of heresy. He was thinking, ‘I was right to take an interest in young Brook, he has moral as well as physical courage, and may go far.’
Still uncertain of the effect his rash words might have had, and wishing to strengthen his argument, Roger hurried on: ‘Some of the older boys are worse than the masters, and they can’t even claim to know best because they are grown up. They fag the younger fellows to do all sorts of time-wasting things, often out of pure malice, and I see no reason why their natures should change when they become older. Take Gunston, Sir. I’m not complaining about him, but he is going into the Army. Just think of having a stupid oaf like that for one’s senior officer, and being unable to question his decisions. Life would be positively unbearable.’
Old Toby took a pinch of snuff. ‘Your views are unorthodox, Brook, and I would advise you to keep them to yourself. There is, I admit, something in what you say; yet discipline is a necessary ingredient in all our lives. Rectique Cultus pectora roborant. To succeed in any career, you must school yourself to accept that fact. But tell me, why, if it is not your intention to adopt the profession of Arms, do you spend so many hours in the fencing school and shooting gallery each week?’
‘To make myself proficient, Sir. Then when I am older no man will be able to gainsay me with impunity.’
‘I had not realised that you were of such a quarrelsome disposition.’
‘I trust that I am not. I would not seek to force a quarrel on anyone. But a gentleman should know how to defend himself, and the ability to do so is the best means of assuring full independence of both spirit and action.’
‘You must be aware that edicts inflicting severe penalties for duelling have been in force for many years now.’
Roger smiled and gave a slight shrug. ‘Yet duels occur with some frequency just the same, Sir, and they are not forbidden in many places on the Continent. I hope to travel in due course.’
‘Ah.’ Old Toby shuffled with some papers. ‘That brings us back to the reason for my asking you to wait upon me. You will be moving into Upper School next term, and I see that I have no note here as to the career which your parents desire you to follow. The time has come when I should be informed of it in order that I may allocate a certain portion of your time to the most appropriate studies.’
‘Nothing definite has been settled yet, Sir. My father wanted me to go into the Navy, but there was some hitch. My mother …’ Roger flushed and broke off.
Old Toby gave him a shrewd look. ‘Your mother was Lady Marie MacElfic before her marriage, was she not? And all her family are still irreconcilable Jacobites. Were you about to say that the King had refused entrance to the Navy to you on that account? It is common knowledge that the Government is still averse to appointing officers to either Service who have even remote connections with the Stuart cause.’
‘Well, yes, Sir. That is what happened. As a Captain in the King’s Navy himself, my father did not think that there would be any difficulty about my appointment, but there was. He was furious, but said there was plenty of time and that before I was old enough to go to sea he would make their Lordships at the Admiralty see reason. That was soon after the American war broke out. Then when the French intervened in seventy-eight, his ship was ordered to sea, and, thanks be to providence he has not been home since; so has been unable to do aught about it.’
‘Seventy-eight,’ murmured Old Toby. ‘Why, that is five years ago. And so, young man, you have been a stranger to parental discipline for all that time. If you have been allowed to have your head at home for so long ’tis little wonder that you have come to find the restraints of school irksome. Has your father made no mention of this matter in his letters?’
‘Yes; from time to time. But he felt, I think, that little could be done by writing to their Lordships, and he has no personal influence at Court. He was counting on the patronage of Admiral Rodney when the Fleet got home, but the war dragged on for so long and his ship was one of those left on the West Indies Station after our great victory last year off the Isle of Saints.’
‘And meanwhile, you have been growing up. It is not too late yet for you to enter the Navy, but it very soon will be. As you have no inclination for the life I take it that you are congratulating yourself already on having escaped your father forcing you to it.’
Roger grinned sheepishly. ‘Even if he were ordered home tomorrow he has to get here; then ’twould take him months of lobbying finally to overcome the old objections, and once I’m sixteen I shall be safe. For me the late war has proved a miraculous preservation. The Army would have been bad enough, but to be a midshipman, boxed up in a ship for months, living on weevilly biscuits and kicked around by every Tom, Dick and Harry! It makes me shudder to think of it.’
‘Quoe fuit durum pati, meminisse dulce est, was Seneca’s very wise remark on that, you will remember. But, have you made any plans of your own?’
‘No, Sir, and I’d willingly be guided by you. In any event, as far as entering Upper School is concerned, I’m sure my mother would be agreeable to your putting me to any studies that you think most suitable.’
‘Outside the usual curriculum you are already taking French. Few boys show any interest in Modern Languages, and I remember thinking it strange this time last year when you asked to be allowed to do so. What was your reason, Brook?’
‘Because I hope to travel.’
‘Both your Latin and Greek are exceptionally good for one of your years; and the former being the common tongue of all educated people I should have thought that would have filled your need anywhere on the Continent.’
‘No doubt it would, Sir; but with Latin, English and French, I shall stand a better chance of making myself fully understood by people of all classes, wherever I may go.’
Old Toby regarded the slim figure and thin, eager face in front of him thoughtfully. The boy had great self-assurance for his age, was well proportioned and when fully grown should make a fine figure of a man. Those dark blue eyes, a gift no doubt from his Highland mother, coupled with the short, straight nose, strong white teeth and resolute chin, would play the very devil with the women. The fat, worldly-wise old man caught himself thinking that it would not be long before the lad seduced some ripe young chambermaid or dairy wench. In the days before he had taken orders to assure himself a sinecure he had done quite a bit of whoring himself; and to his way of thinking any young man of sixteen who had not started to roll the girls in the hay was neither healthy nor normal. People began both to fight and love young in those days.
As his glance fell on Roger’s hands his thoughts shifted; They were fine hands, none too clean at the moment, but long and firm, sensitive yet strong. They had, however, one peculiarity; the little fingers on both were of exceptional length, their tips reaching almost to the nails of the third fingers.
Cheirognomy, or the science of reading character from the shape of the hands, is as old as fortune-telling and at one time Old Toby had interested himself in it. He now recalled that unusually long little fingers acted as a balance to the impulsiveness given by strong thumbs, and indicated the power of their possessor to influence others. Not without reason, too, the ancients had associated the qualities of the god Mercury with the little finger and averred that when abnormally developed it showed great ability of expression in both writing and speaking, and that the owner was one who could interest and command people by the manner in which he would apply facts and knowledge to the treatment of anything that strongly concerned him.
He wondered that he had not noticed young Brook’s long little fingers before, but was pleased that he had done so now, as the boy’s flair for languages and the ease with which he expressed his thoughts was one more proof of the correctness of the ancient, though now discarded, science.
‘I think,’ he said slowly, ‘that during this holiday you should consult your mother and ascertain if she has any views as to your future.’
‘I will, Sir; but I’d be mighty obliged if you could offer some suggestions that I might put to her.’
‘Have you, or are you likely to have, any money of your own?’
Roger shook his head. ‘Such money as there is in the family lies with my mother’s people, and they cut her off when she married my father against their will. My father has only a few hundreds a year apart from his pay.’
‘’Tis a pity, that; since few careers are open to a gentleman lacking fortune; other than learning, and the sword. Are you irrevocably set against entering one of the Services?’
‘I fear so, Sir. I’ll not submit myself to be dragooned all my life by people for many of whom, I am convinced, I should have no respect.’
‘Fas est et ab hoste doceri’ Old Toby quoted, and added: ‘While ’tis true that a certain number of the King’s officers are men of little merit whose lack of education is deplorable, in the main they are honest, courageous fellows of good will, who do their duty as they see it. At times you might have the misfortune to find yourself under an ignorant martinet, but ’tis morbid to assume that you would always do so. In these days, too, promotion is rapid for young men who show ability; so I feel you should strive to overcome this arrogant prejudice of yours. Even if you are set against the Navy you could canvass such patronage as the gentry round Lymington would no doubt give to a neighbour’s son, to overcome this lingering Jacobite taint, and secure you a commission in the Army. That, I am sure, in these war-like times, would afford you the best chance of making a name for yourself.’
‘But we are no longer at war, Sir,’ Roger protested. ‘What with the French, the Spaniards, the Dutch, and the Colonists we have enjoyed only some fifteen years of peace out of the last forty-four, and they must be as exhausted as we are. Surely, after the last seven years of strife, we should be able to count now on a long period of tranquillity.’
The Launching of Roger Brook Page 2
