Tales of St. Austin's

by P. G. Wodehouse

  _Chapter 6_

  By special request the Doctor dropped Charteris within a hundred yardsof Merevale's door.

  'Good-night,' he said. 'I don't suppose you will value my advice atall, but you may have it for what it is worth. I recommend you stopthis sort of game. Next time something will happen.'

  'By Jove, yes,' said Charteris, climbing painfully down from thedog-cart, 'I'll take that advice. I'm a reformed character from thisday onwards. This sort of thing isn't good enough. Hullo, there's thebell for lock-up. Good-night, Doctor, and thanks most awfully for thelift. It was frightfully kind of you.'

  'Don't mention it,' said Dr Adamson, 'it is always a privilege to be inyour company. When are you coming to tea with me again?'

  'Whenever you'll have me. I must get leave, though, this time.'

  'Yes. By the way, how's Graham? It is Graham, isn't it? The fellow whobroke his collar-bone?'

  'Oh, he's getting on splendidly. Still in a sling, but it's almost wellagain now. But I must be off. Good-night.'

  'Good-night. Come to tea next Monday.'

  'Right,' said Charteris; 'thanks awfully.'

  He hobbled in at Merevale's gate, and went up to his study. The Babewas in there talking to Welch.

  'Hullo,' said the Babe, 'here's Charteris.'

  'What's left of him,' said Charteris.

  'How did it go off?'

  'Don't, please.'

  'Did you win?' asked Welch.

  'No. Second. By a yard. Oh, Lord, I am dead.'

  'Hot race?'

  'Rather. It wasn't that, though. I had to sprint all the way to thestation, and missed my train by ten seconds at the end of it all.'

  'Then how did you get here?'

  'That was the one stroke of luck I've had this afternoon. I started towalk back, and after I'd gone about a quarter of a mile, Adamson caughtme up in his dog-cart. I suggested that it would be a Christian act onhis part to give me a lift, and he did. I shall remember Adamson in mywill.'

  'Tell us what happened.'

  'I'll tell thee everything I can,' said Charteris. 'There's little torelate. I saw an aged, aged man a-sitting on a gate. Where do you wantme to begin?'

  'At the beginning. Don't rot.'

  'I was born,' began Charteris, 'of poor but honest parents, who sentme to school at an early age in order that I might acquire a grasp ofthe Greek and Latin languages, now obsolete. I--'

  'How did you lose?' enquired the Babe.

  'The other man beat me. If he hadn't, I should have won hands down. Oh,I say, guess who I met at Rutton.'

  'Not a beak?'

  'No. Almost as bad, though. The Bargee man who paced me from Stapleton.Man who crocked Tony.'

  'Great _Scott_!' cried the Babe. 'Did he recognize you?'

  'Rather. We had a very pleasant conversation.'

  'If he reports you,' began the Babe.

  'Who's that?'

  Charteris looked up. Tony Graham had entered the study.

  'Hullo, Tony! Adamson told me to remember him to you.'

  'So you've got back?'

  Charteris confirmed the hasty guess.

  'But what are you talking about, Babe?' said Tony. 'Who's going to bereported, and who's going to report?'

  The Babe briefly explained the situation.

  'If the man,' he said, 'reports Charteris, he may get run in tomorrow,and then we shall have both our halves away against Dacre's. Charteris,you are a fool to go rotting about out of bounds like this.'

  'Nay, dry the starting tear,' said Charteris cheerfully. 'In the firstplace, I shouldn't get kept in on a Thursday anyhow. I should be shovedinto extra on Saturday. Also, I shrewdly conveyed to the Bargee theimpression that I was at Rutton by special permission.'

  'He's bound to know that that can't be true,' said Tony.

  'Well, I told him to think it over. You see, he got so badly left lasttime he tried to compass my downfall, that I shouldn't be a bitsurprised if he let the job alone this journey.'

  'Let's hope so,' said the Babe gloomily.

  'That's right, Babby,' remarked Charteris encouragingly, nodding at thepessimist.

  'You buck up and keep looking on the bright side. It'll be all right.You see if it won't. If there's any running in to be done, I shall doit. I shall be frightfully fit tomorrow after all this dashing abouttoday. I haven't an ounce of superfluous flesh on me. I'm a fine,strapping specimen of sturdy young English manhood. And I'm going toplay a _very_ selfish game tomorrow, Babe.'

  'Oh, my dear chap, you mustn't.' The Babe's face wore an expression ofhorror. The success of the House-team in the final was very near to hisheart. He could not understand anyone jesting on the subject. Charterisrespected his anguish, and relieved it speedily.

  'I was only ragging,' he said. 'Considering that our three-quarter lineis our one strong point, I'm not likely to keep the ball from it, if Iget a chance of getting it out. Make your mind easy, Babe.'

  The final House-match was always a warmish game. The rivalry betweenthe various Houses was great, and the football cup especially wasfought for with immense keenness. Also, the match was the last fixtureof the season, and there was a certain feeling in the teams that ifthey _did_ happen to disable a man or two, it would not mattermuch. The injured sportsman would not be needed for School-matchpurposes for another six months. As a result of which philosophicalreflection, the tackling was ruled slightly energetic, and thehanding-off was done with vigour.

  This year, to add a sort of finishing touch, there was just a littleill-feeling between Dacre's and Merevale's. The cause of it was theBabe. Until the beginning of the term he had been a day boy. Then thenews began to circulate that he was going to become a boarder, eitherat Dacre's or at Merevale's. He chose the latter, and Dacre's feltslightly aggrieved. Some of the less sportsmanlike members of the Househad proposed that a protest should be made against his being allowed toplay, but, fortunately for the credit of Dacre's, Prescott, the captainof the House Fifteen, had put his foot down with an emphatic bang atthe suggestion. As he sagely pointed out, there were some things whichwere bad form, and this was one of them. If the team wanted to expresstheir disapproval, said he, let them do it on the field by tacklingtheir very hardest. He personally was going to do his best, and headvised them to do the same.

  The rumour of this bad blood had got about the School in somemysterious manner, and when Swift, Merevale's only First Fifteenforward, kicked off up the hill, a large crowd was lining the ropes. Itwas evident from the outset that it would be a good game.

  Dacre's were the better side--as a team. They had no really weak spot.But Merevale's extraordinarily strong three-quarter line somewhat madeup for an inferior scrum. And the fact that the Babe was in the centrewas worth much.

  At first Dacre's pressed. Their pack was unusually heavy for aHouse-team, and they made full use of it. They took the ball down thefield in short rushes till they were in Merevale's twenty-five. Thenthey began to heel, and, if things had been more or less exciting forthe Merevalians before, they became doubly so now. The ground was dry,and so was the ball, and the game consequently waxed fast. Time aftertime the ball went along Dacre's three-quarter line, only to end byfinding itself hurled, with the wing who was carrying it, into touch.Occasionally the centres, instead of feeding their wings, would try tododge through themselves. And that was where the Babe came in. He wasadmittedly the best tackler in the School, but on this occasion heexcelled himself. His man never had a chance of getting past. At last alofty kick into touch over the heads of the spectators gave the playersa few seconds' rest.

  The Babe went up to Charteris.

  'Look here,' he said, 'it's risky, but I think we'll try having theball out a bit.'

  'In our own twenty-five?' said Charteris.

  'Wherever we are. I believe it will come off all right. Anyway, we'lltry it. Tell the forwards.'

  For forwards playing against a pack much heavier than themselves, it iseasier to talk about letting the ball out than to do it. The first h
alfdozen times that Merevale's scrum tried to heel they were shoved offtheir feet, and it was on the enemy's side that the ball went out. Butthe seventh attempt succeeded. Out it came, cleanly and speedily.Daintree, who was playing instead of Tony, switched it across toCharteris. Charteris dodged the half who was marking him, and ran.Heeling and passing in one's own twenty-five is like smoking--anexcellent practice if indulged in in moderation. On this occasion itanswered perfectly. Charteris ran to the half-way line, and handed theball on to the Babe. The Babe was tackled from behind, and passed toThomson. Thomson dodged his man, and passed to Welch on the wing. Welchwas the fastest sprinter in the School. It was a pleasure--if you didnot happen to be one of the opposing side--to see him race down thetouch-line. He was off like an arrow. Dacre's back made a futileattempt to get at him. Welch could have given the back fifteen yards ina hundred. He ran round him, and, amidst terrific applause from theMerevale's-supporting section of the audience, scored between theposts. The Babe took the kick and converted without difficulty. Fiveminutes afterwards the whistle blew for half-time.

  The remainder of the game does not call for detailed description.Dacre's pressed nearly the whole of the last half hour, but twice morethe ball came out and went down Merevale's three-quarter line. Once itwas the Babe who scored with a run from his own goal-line, and onceCharteris, who got in from half-way, dodging through the whole team.The last ten minutes of the game was marked by a slight excess ofenergy on both sides. Dacre's forwards were in a decidedly bad temper,and fought like tigers to break through, and Merevale's played up tothem with spirit. The Babe seemed continually to be precipitatinghimself at the feet of rushing forwards, and Charteris felt as if atleast a dozen bones were broken in various portions of his anatomy. Thegame ended on Merevale's line, but they had won the match and the cupby two goals and a try to nothing.

  Charteris limped off the field, cheerful but damaged. He ached allover, and there was a large bruise on his left cheek-bone. He and Babewere going to the House, when they were aware that the Headmaster wasbeckoning to them.

  'Well, MacArthur, and what was the result of the match?'

  'We won, sir,' boomed the Babe. 'Two goals and a try to _nil_.'

  'You have hurt your cheek, Charteris?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'How did you do that?'

  'I got a kick, sir, in one of the rushes.'

  'Ah. I should bathe it, Charteris. Bathe it well. I hope it will not bevery painful. Bathe it well in warm water.'

  He walked on.

  'You know,' said Charteris to the Babe, as they went into the House,'the Old Man isn't such a bad sort after all. He has his points, don'tyou think?'

  The Babe said that he did.

  'I'm going to reform, you know,' continued Charteris confidentially.

  'It's about time,' said the Babe. 'You can have the bath first if youlike. Only buck up.'

  Charteris boiled himself for ten minutes, and then dragged his wearylimbs to his study. It was while he was sitting in a deck-chair eatingmixed biscuits, and wondering if he would ever be able to summon upsufficient energy to put on garments of civilization, that somebodyknocked at the door.

  'Yes,' shouted Charteris. 'What is it? Don't come in. I'm changing.'

  The melodious treble of Master Crowinshaw, his fag, made itself heardthrough the keyhole.

  'The Head told me to tell you that he wanted to see you at the SchoolHouse as soon as you can go.'

  'All right,' shouted Charteris. 'Thanks.'

  'Now what,' he continued to himself, 'does the Old Man want to see mefor? Perhaps he wants to make certain that I've bathed my cheek in warmwater. Anyhow, I suppose I must go.'

  A quarter of an hour later he presented himself at the Headmagisterialdoor. The sedate Parker, the Head's butler, who always filled Charteriswith a desire to dig him hard in the ribs just to see what wouldhappen, ushered him into the study.

  The Headmaster was reading by the light of a lamp when Charteris camein. He laid down his book, and motioned him to a seat; after whichthere was an awkward pause.

  'I have just received,' began the Head at last, 'a most unpleasantcommunication. Most unpleasant. From whom it comes I do not know. Itis, in fact--er--anonymous. I am sorry that I ever read it.'

  He stopped. Charteris made no comment. He guessed what was coming. He,too, was sorry that the Head had ever read the letter.

  'The writer says that he saw you, that he actually spoke to you, at theathletic sports at Rutton yesterday. I have called you in to tell me ifthat is true.' The Head fastened an accusing eye on his companion.

  'It is quite true, sir,' said Charteris steadily.

  'What!' said the Head sharply. 'You were at Rutton?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'You were perfectly aware, I suppose, that you were breaking the Schoolrules by going there, Charteris?' enquired the Head in a cold voice.

  'Yes, sir.' There was another pause.

  'This is very serious,' began the Head. 'I cannot overlook this. I--'

  There was a slight scuffle of feet in the passage outside. The doorflew open vigorously, and a young lady entered. It was, as Charterisrecognized in a minute, his acquaintance of the afternoon, the younglady of the bicycle.

  'Uncle,' she said, 'have you seen my book anywhere?'

  'Hullo!' she broke off as her eye fell on Charteris.

  'Hullo!' said Charteris, affably, not to be outdone in the courtesies.

  'Did you catch your train?'

  'No. Missed it.'

  'Hullo! what's the matter with your cheek?'

  'I got a kick on it.'

  'Oh, does it hurt?'

  'Not much, thanks.'

  Here the Head, feeling perhaps a little out of it, put in his oar.

  'Dorothy, you must not come here now. I am busy. And how, may I ask, doyou and Charteris come to be acquainted?'

  'Why, he's him,' said Dorothy lucidly.

  The Head looked puzzled.

  'Him. The chap, you know.'

  It is greatly to the Head's credit that he grasped the meaning of thesewords. Long study of the classics had quickened his faculty for seeingsense in passages where there was none. The situation dawned upon him.

  'Do you mean to tell me, Dorothy, that it was Charteris who came toyour assistance yesterday?'

  Dorothy nodded energetically.

  'He gave the men beans,' she said. 'He did, really,' she went on,regardless of the Head's look of horror. 'He used right and left withconsiderable effect.'

  Dorothy's brother, a keen follower of the Ring, had been good enoughsome days before to read her out an extract from an account in _TheSportsman_ of a match at the National Sporting Club, and the accounthad been much to her liking. She regarded it as a masterpiece ofEnglish composition.

  'Dorothy,' said the Headmaster, 'run away to bed.' A suggestion whichshe treated with scorn, it wanting a clear two hours to her legalbedtime. 'I must speak to your mother about your deplorable habit ofusing slang. Dear me, I must certainly speak to her.'

  And, shamefully unabashed, Dorothy retired.

  The Head was silent for a few minutes after she had gone; then heturned to Charteris again.

  'In consideration of this, Charteris, I shall--er--mitigate slightlythe punishment I had intended to give you.'

  Charteris murmured his gratification.

  'But,' continued the Head sternly, 'I cannot overlook the offence. Ihave my duty to consider. You will therefore write me--er--ten lines ofVirgil by tomorrow evening, Charteris.'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Latin _and_ English,' said the relentless pedagogue.

  'Yes, sir.'

  'And, Charteris--I am speaking now--er--unofficially, not as aheadmaster, you understand--if in future you would cease to breakSchool rules simply as a matter of principle, for that, I fancy, is whatit amounts to, I--er--well, I think we should get on better together.And that is, on my part at least, a consummation--er--devoutly to bewished. Good-night, Charteris.'

  'Good-nig
ht, sir.'

  The Head extended a large hand. Charteris took it, and his departure.

  The Headmaster opened his book again, and turned over a new leaf.Charteris at the same moment, walking slowly in the direction ofMerevale's, was resolving for the future to do the very same thing. Andhe did.