St. Winifred's; or, The World of School

by F. W. Farrar

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  VOGUE LA GALERE.

  Ah! Diamond, thou little knowest what mischief thou hast done.

  Life of Sir I. Newton.

  That afternoon Mr Paton, going into the Combination Room, where themasters often met, threw himself into one of the armchairs with anunwonted expression of vexation and disgust on his usually placidfeatures.

  "Why, what's the matter with you, Paton?" asked Mr Robertson. "Isto-day's _Times_ too liberal for your notions, or what?"

  "No," said Mr Paton; "but I have just been caning Evson, a new boy, andthe fellow's stubborn obstinacy and unaccountable coolness annoy meexceedingly."

  "O yes; he's a pupil of mine, I'm sorry to say, and he has never beenfree from punishment since he came. Even your Procrustean rule seems tofail with him, Paton. What have you been obliged to cane him for?"

  Mr Paton related Walter's escapade.

  "Well, of course you had no choice but to cane him," replied hiscolleague, "for such disobedience; but how did he take it?"

  "In the oddest way possible. He came in with punctilious politeness,obviously assumed, with sarcastic intentions. When I took up the canehe stood with arms folded, and a singularly dogged look; in fact, hismanner disarmed me. You know I detest caning, and I really could not doit, never having had occasion for it for months together. I gave himtwo cuts, and then left off. `May I go, sir?' he asked. `Yes,' I said,and he left the room with a bow and a `Thank you, sir.' I am reallysorry for the boy; for as I was obliged to send him to Dr Lane, he willprobably get another flogging from him."

  "What a worthless boy he must be," answered Mr Robertson.

  "No, not exactly worthless; there's something about him I can't helpliking; but most impudent and stubborn."

  "Excuse me," said Mr Percival, another of the masters, who had beenlistening attentively to the conversation; "I humbly venture to thinkthat you're both mistaken in that boy. I like him exceedingly, andthink him as promising a lad as any in the school. I never knew any boybehave more modestly and respectfully."

  "Why, how do you know anything of him?" asked Mr Robertson in surprise.

  "Only by accident. I had once or twice noticed him among the _detenus_,and being sorry to think that a new boy should be an _habitue_ of theextra schoolroom, I asked him one day why he was sent. He told me thatit was for failing in a lesson, and when I asked why he hadn't learntit, he said, very simply and respectfully, `I really did my very best,sir; but it's all new work to me.' Look at the boy's innocent, engagingface, and you will be sure that he was telling me the truth.

  "I'm afraid," continued Mr Percival, "you'll think this very slightground for setting my opinion against yours; but I was pleased withEvson's manner, and asked him to come and take a stroll on the shore,that I might know something more of him. Do you know, I never found amore intelligent companion. He was all life and vivacity; it was quitea pleasure to be with him. Being new to the sea, he didn't know thenames of the commonest things on the shore, and if you had seen his facelight up as he kept picking up whelk's eggs, and mermaid's purses, andzoophytes, and hermit-crabs, and bits of plocamium or coralline, andasking me all I could tell him about them, you would not have thoughthim a stupid or worthless boy."

  "I don't know, Percival; _you_ are a regular conjuror. All sorts ofne'er-do-wells succeed under your manipulation. You're a first-ratehand at gathering grapes from thorns, and figs from thistles. Why, evenout of that Caliban, old Woods, you used to extract a gleam of humanintelligence."

  "He wasn't a Caliban at all. I found him an excellent fellow at heart;but what could you expect of a boy who, because he was big, awkward, andstupid, was always getting flouted on all sides? Sir Hugh Evans is notthe only person who disliked being made a `vlouting-stog.'"

  "You must have some talisman for transmuting boys if you consider oldWoods an excellent fellow, Percival. I found him a mass of laziness andbrute strength. Do give me your secret."

  "Try a little kindness and sympathy. I have no other secret."

  "I'm not conscious of failing in kindness," said Mr Robertson drily."My fault, I think, is being too kind."

  "To clever, promising, bright boys--yes; to unthankful and evil boys(excuse me for saying so)--no. You don't try to descend to their dulllevel, and so understand their difficulties. You don't suffer foolsgladly, as we masters ought to do. But, Paton," he said, turning theconversation, which seemed distasteful to Mr Robertson, "will you tryhow it succeeds to lay the yoke a little less heavily on Evson?"

  "Well, Percival, I don't think that I've consciously bullied him. Ican't make my system different to him and other boys."

  "My dear Paton, forgive my saying that I don't think that a rigid systemis the fairest; _summa lex summa crux_. Fish of very different sortsand sizes come to our nets, and you can't shove a turbot through thesame mesh that barely admits a sprat."

  "I'll think of what you say; but I must leave him in Dr Lane's handsnow," said Mr Paton.

  "Who, I heartily hope, won't flog him," said Mr Percival.

  "Why? I don't see how he can do otherwise."

  "Because it will simply drive him to despair; because, if I knowanything of his character, it will have upon him an effect incalculablybad."

  "I hope not," said Mr Paton.

  The conversation dropped, and Mr Percival resumed his newspaper.

  When Walter went to Dr Lane in the evening, the Doctor inquired kindlyand carefully into the nature of his offence. This, unfortunately, wasclear enough, and Walter was far too ingenuous to attempt anyextenuation of it. Even if he had not been intentionally idle, it wasplain, on his own admission, that he had been guilty of the greatestpossible insubordination and disrespect. These offences were rare atSaint Winifred's, and especially rare in a new boy. Puzzled as he wasby conduct so unlike the boy's apparent character, and interested by hisnatural and manly manner, yet Dr Lane had in this case no alternativebut the infliction of corporal punishment.

  Humiliated again, and full of bitter anger, Walter returned to the greatschoolroom, where he was received with sympathy and kindness by theothers in his class. It was the dark part of the evening beforetea-time, and the boys, sitting idly round the fire, were in an apt moodfor folly and mischief. They began a vehement discussion about Paton'sdemerits, and called him every hard name they could invent. Walter tooklittle part in this, for he was smarting too severely under the sense ofoppression to find relief in mere abuse; but, from his flashing eyes andthe dark scowl that sat so ill on his face it was evident that a badspirit had obtained the thorough mastery over all his better and gentlerimpulses.

  "Can't we do something to serve the fellow out?" said Anthony, one ofthe boys in Walter's dormitory.

  "But _what_ can we do?" asked several.

  "What, indeed?" asked Henderson, mockingly; and as it was his way toquote whatever he had last been reading, he began to spout from theperoration of a speech which he had seen in the paper--"Aristocracy,throned on the citadel of power, and strong in--"

  "What a fool you are, Henderson," observed Franklin, another of thegroup; "I'll tell you what we can do: we'll burn that horrid black bookin which he enters the detentions and impositions."

  "Poor book!" said Henderson; "what pangs of conscience it will suffer inthe flames! Give it not the glory of such martyrdom. Walter," hecontinued, in a lower voice, "I hope that you'll have nothing to do withthis humbug?"

  "I will though, Henderson; if I'm to have nothing but canings andfloggings, I may just as well be caned and flogged for _something_ asfor _nothing_."

  "The desk's locked," said Anthony; "we shan't be able to get hold of theimposition-book."

  "I'll settle that," said Walter; "here, just hand me the poker, Dubbs."

  "I shall do no such thing," said Daubeny quietly, and his reply wasgreeted with a shout of derision.

  "Why, you poor coward, Dubbs," said Franklin, "you _couldn't_ getanything for handing the poker."

  "I neve
r supposed I could, Franklin," he answered; "and as for being acoward, the real cowardice would be to do what's absurd and wrong forfear of being laughed at or being kicked. Well, you may hit me," hesaid quietly, as Franklin twisted his arm tightly round, and hit him onit, "but you can't make me do what I don't choose."

  "We'll try," said Franklin, twisting his arm still more tightly, andhitting harder.

  "You'll try in vain," answered Daubeny, though the tears stood in hiseyes at the violent pain.

  "Drop his arm, you Franklin," indignantly exclaimed Henderson, who,though he was always teasing Daubeny, was very fond of him; "drop hisarm, or, by Jove! you'll find that two can play at that. Dubbs is quiteright, and you're a set of asses if you think you'll do any good byburning the punishment book. I've got the poker, and you shan't have itto knock the desk open. I suppose Paton can afford sixpence to buyanother book; and enter a tolerable fresh score against you for thisbesides."

  "But he won't remember my six hundred lines, and four or fivedetentions," said Walter. "Here, give me the poker."

  "Pooh! pooh! Evson, of course he'll remember them. Here, I'll help youwith the lines; I'll do a couple of hundred for you, and the rest youcan write with two pens at a time; it won't take you an hour. I'll showyou the two-pen dodge; I'll admit you into the two-pen-etralia. LikeMilton, you shall `touch the slender tops of various quills.' No, no,"he continued, in a playful tone in order not to make Walter in a greaterpassion than he was, "you can't have the poker; anyone who wants thatmust take it from me _vi et armis_."

  "It doesn't matter; this'll do as well; and here goes," said Walter,seizing a wooden stool. "There's the desk open for you," he said, as hebrought the top of the stool with a strong blow against the lid, andburst the lock with a great crash.

  "My eyes! we _shall_ get into a row," said Franklin, opening his eyes toillustrate his exclamation.

  "Well, what's done's done; let's all take our share," said Anthony,diving his hand into the desk. "Here's the imposition-book for you, andhere goes leaf number one into the fire; you can tear out the next ifyou like, Franklin."

  "Very well," said Franklin; "in for a penny in for a pound; there _goes_the second leaf."

  "And here the third; over ankles over knees," said Barton, another ofthose present.

  "Proverbial Fool-osophy," observed Henderson, contemptuously, as Burtonhanded him the book. "Shall I be a silly sheep like the rest of you,and leap over the bridge because your leader has? I suppose I must,though it's very absurd." He wavered and hesitated; sensible enough todisapprove of so useless a proceeding, he yet did not like to be thoughtafraid. He minded what fellows would _think_.

  "Do what's right," said Daubeny, "and shame the devil. Here, give methe book. Now, you fellows, you've torn out these leaves, and donequite mischief enough. Let me put the book back, and don't be likechildren who hit the fender against which they've knocked their heads."

  "Or dogs that bite the stick they've been thrashed with," saidHenderson. "You're right, Dubbs, and I respect you; ay, you fellows maysneer if you like, but I advised you not to do it, and I won't makemyself an idiot because you do."

  "Never mind," drawled Howard Tracy. "I hate Paton, and I'll do anythingto spite him," whereupon he snatched the book from Daubeny, and threw itentire into the flames. Poor Tracy had been even in more seriousscrapes with Mr Paton than Walter had; his vain manner was peculiarlyabhorrent to the master, who took every opportunity of snubbing him; butnothing would pierce through the thick cloak of Tracy's conceit, andfully satisfied with himself, his good looks, and his aristocraticconnections, he sat down in contented ignorance, and despised learningtoo much to be in the least put out by being invariably the last in hisform.

  "What, is there nothing left for me to burn?" said Walter, who satglowering on the high iron fender, and swinging his legs impatiently."Let's see what else there is in the desk. Here are a pack of oldexercises, apparently; they'll make a jolly blaze. Stop, though, _are_they old exercises? Well, never mind; if not, so much the better. Inthey shall go."

  "Stop! what _are_ you doing, Walter?" said Henderson, catching him bythe arm; "you know these can't be old exercises. Paton always puts_them_ in his waste-paper basket, not in his desk. Oh, Walter, what_have_ you done?"

  "The outside sheets were exercises anyhow," said Walter gloomily."Here, it's no good trying to save them now, whatever they were" (forHenderson was attempting to rake them out between the bars); "they'redone for now," and he pressed down the thick mass of foolscap into thereddest centre of the fire, and held it there until nothing remained ofit but a heap of flaky crimson ashes.

  A dead silence followed, for the boys felt that now, at any rate, theywere "in for it."

  The sound of the tea-bell prevented further mischief; and as Hendersonthrust his arm through Walter's, he said, "Oh, Evson, I wish you hadn'tdone that! I wish I'd got you to come away before. What a passionatefellow you are!"

  "Well, it's done now," said Walter, already beginning to soften, and torepent of his fatuity.

  "What can we do?" said Henderson anxiously.

  "Take the consequences, that's all," answered Walter.

  "Hadn't you better go and tell Paton about it at once instead of lettinghim find it out?"

  "No," said Walter; "he's done nothing but bully me, and I don't care."

  "Then let me go," said his friend earnestly. "I know Paton well; I'msure he'd be ready to forgive you, if I explained it all to him."

  "You're very good, Flip; but don't go:--it's too late."

  "Well, Walter, you mustn't think that I had no share in this because ofbeing afraid. I was one of the group, and I'll share the punishmentwith you, whatever it is. I hope for your sake it won't be found out."

  But if Henderson had seen a little deeper he would have hoped that itwould be found out, for there is nothing that works quicker ruin to anycharacter than undiscovered sin. It was happy for Walter that his wrongimpulses did _not_ remain undiscovered; happy for him that they came sorapidly to be known and to be punished.

  It was noised through the school in five minutes that Evson, one of thenew fellows, had smashed open Paton's desk and burned the contents."What an awful row he'll get into!" was the general comment. Walterheard Kenrick inquiring eagerly about it as they sat at tea; but Kenrickdidn't ask _him_ about it, though they sat so near each other. Afterthe foolish, proud manner of sensitive boys, Walter and Kenrick, thougheach liked the other none the less, were not on speaking terms. Walter,less morbidly proud than Kenrick, would not have suffered this sillyalienation to continue had not his attention been occupied by othertroubles. Neither of them, therefore, liked to be the first to breakthe ice, and now in his most serious difficulty Walter had lost theadvice and sympathy of his most intimate friend.

  The fellows seemed to think that he must inevitably be expelled for this_fracas_. The poor boy's thoughts were very, very bitter as he laid hishead that night on his restless pillow, remembered what an ungovernablefool he had been, and dreamt of his happy and dear-loved home. Howstrangely he seemed to have left his old, innocent life behind him, andhow little he would have believed it possible, two months ago, that hecould by any conduct of his own have so soon incurred, or nearlyincurred, the penalty of expulsion from Saint Winifred's School.

  He had certainly yielded very quickly to passion, and he felt that inconsequence he had made his position more serious than that of otherboys who were in every sense of the word twice as bad as himself. Butwhat he laid to the score of his ill-luck was in truth a very happyprovidence by which punishment was sent speedily and heavily upon him,and so his evil tendencies, mercifully nipped in the bud, crushed with atender yet with an iron hand before they had expanded more blossoms andbeen fed by deeper roots. He might have been punished less speedily hadhis faults been more radical, or his wrong-doings of a deeper dye.