by F. Anstey
5. _Disgrace_
"Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning's face."
Sleep came at last, and brought too brief forgetfulness. It was not tillthe dull grey light of morning was glimmering through the blinds thatMr. Bultitude awoke to his troubles.
The room was bitterly cold, and he remained shivering in bed for sometime, trying to realise and prepare for his altered condition.
He was the only one awake. Now and then from one of the beds around aboy would be heard talking in his sleep, or laughing with holidayglee--at the drolleries possibly of some pantomime performed for hisamusement in the Theatre Royal, Dreamland--a theatre mercifully open toall boys free of charge, long after the holidays have come to an end,the only drawbacks being a certain want of definiteness in the plot andscenery, and a liability to premature termination of the vaguelysplendid performance.
Once Kiffin, the new boy, awoke with a start and a heavy sigh, but hecried himself to sleep again almost immediately.
Mr. Bultitude could bear being inactive no longer. He thought, if he gotup, he might perhaps see his misfortunes shrink to a more bearable, lesshopeless scale, and besides, he judged it prudent, for many reasons, tofinish his toilet before the sleepers began theirs.
Very stealthily, dreading to rouse anyone and attract attention in theform of slippers, he broke the clinking crust of ice in one of thebasins and, shuddering from the shock, bathed face and hands in thebiting water. He parted his hair, which from natural causes he had beenunable to accomplish for some years, and now found an awkwardness inaccomplishing neatly, and then stole down the dark creaking staircasejust as the butler in the hall began to swing the big railway bell whichwas to din stern reality into the sleepy ears above.
In the schoolroom a yawning maid had just lighted the fire, from whichturbid yellow clouds of sulphurous smoke were pouring into the room,making it necessary to open the windows and lower a temperature that wasfar from high originally.
Paul stood shaking by the mantelpiece in a very bad temper for someminutes. If the Doctor had come in then, he might have been spurred byindignation to utter his woes, and even claim and obtain his freedom.But that was not to be.
The door did open presently, however, and a little girl appeared; a verycharming little maiden indeed, in a neat dark costume relieved by afresh white pinafore. She had deep grey eyes and glossy brown hairfalling over her forehead and down her back in soft straight masses, herface was oval rather than round, and slightly serious, though her smilewas pretty and gay.
She ran towards Mr. Bultitude with a glad little cry, stretching out herhands.
"Dick! dear Dick!" she said, "I am so glad! I thought you'd be downearly; as you used to be. I wanted to sit up last night so very much,but mamma wouldn't let me."
Some might have been very glad to be welcomed in this way, evenvicariously. As for boys, it must have been a very bad school indeedwhich Dulcie Grimstone could not have robbed of much of its terrors.
Mr. Bultitude, however, as has been explained, did not appreciatechildren--being a family man himself. When one sees their pettysquabbles and jealousies, hears their cruel din, and pays for theirmonkeyish mischief, perhaps the daintiest children seem but an earthlyorder of cherubim. He was only annoyed and embarrassed by theinterruption, though he endured it.
"Ah," he said with condescension, "and so you're Dr. Grimstone's littlegirl, are you? How d'ye do, my dear?"
Dulcie stopped and looked at him, with drawn eyebrows and her soft mouthquivering. "What makes you talk like that?" she asked.
"How ought I to talk?" said Paul.
"You didn't talk like that before," said Dulcie plaintively. "I--Ithought perhaps you'd be glad to see me. You were once. And--and--whenyou went away last you asked me to--to--kiss you, and I did, and I wishI hadn't. And you gave me a ginger lozenge with your name written on itin lead pencil, and I gave you a cough-lozenge with mine; and you saidit was to show that you were my sweetheart and I was yours. But Isuppose you've eaten the one I gave you?"
"This is dreadful!" thought Mr. Bultitude. "What shall I do now? Thechild evidently takes me for that little scoundrel Dick." "Tut-tut," hesaid aloud, "little girls like you are too young for such nonsense. Youought to think about--about your dolls, and--ah, your needlework--notsweethearts!"
"You say that now!" cried Dulcie indignantly. "You know I'm not a littlegirl, and I've left off playing with dolls--almost. Oh, Dick, don't beunkind! You haven't changed your mind, have you?"
"No," said Paul dismally, "I've changed my body. But there--you wouldn'tunderstand. Run away and play somewhere, like a good little girl!"
"I know what it is!" said Dulcie. "You've been out to parties, orsomewhere, and seen some horrid girl ... you like ... better than me!"
"This is absurd, you know," said Mr. Bultitude. "You can't think howabsurd it is! Now, you'll be a very foolish little girl if you cry.You're making a mistake. I'm not the Dick you used to know!"
"I know you're not!" sobbed Dulcie. "But oh, Dick, you will be. Promiseme you will be!" And, to Paul's horror and alarm, she put her arms roundhis neck, and cried piteously on his shoulder.
"Good gracious!" he cried, "let me go. Don't do that, for Heaven's sake!I can hear some one coming. If it's your father, it will ruin me!"
But it was too late. Over her head he saw Tipping enter the room, andstand glaring at them menacingly. Dulcie saw him too, and sprang away tothe window, where she tried to dry her eyes unperceived, and then ranpast him with a hurried good morning, and escaped, leaving Paul alonewith the formidable Tipping.
There was an awkward silence at first, which Tipping broke by saying,"What have you been saying to make her cry, eh?"
"What's that to you, sir?" said Paul, trying to keep his voice firm.
"Why, it's just this to me," said Tipping, "that I've been spoons onDulcie myself ever since I came, and she never would have a word to sayto me. I never could think why, and now it turns out to be you! What doyou mean by cutting me out like this? I heard her call you 'dear Dick.'"
"Don't be an ass, sir!" said Paul angrily.
"Now, none of your cheek, you know!" said Tipping, edging up against himwith a dangerous inclination first to jostle aggressively, and then maulhis unconscious rival. "You just mind what I say. I'm not going to haveDulcie bothered by a young beggar in the second form; she deservessomething better than that, anyway, and I tell you that if I once catchyou talking to her in the way you did just now, or if I hear of herfavouring you more than any other fellows, I'll give you the veryjuiciest licking you ever had in your life. So look out!"
At this point the other boys began to straggle down and cluster roundthe fire, and Paul withdrew from the aggrieved Tipping, and lookeddrearily out of the window on the hard road and bare black treesoutside.
"I _must_ tell the Doctor how I'm situated!" he thought; "and yetdirectly I open my mouth, he threatens to flog me. If I stay here, thatlittle girl will be always trying to speak to me, and I shall bethrashed by the red-haired boy. If I could only manage to speak outafter breakfast!"
It was not without satisfaction that he remembered that he paid extrafor "meat for breakfast" in his son's school-bills, for he was beginningto look forward to meal-time with the natural desire of a young andhealthy frame for nourishment.
At eight o'clock the Doctor came in and announced breakfast, leadingthe way himself to what was known in the school as the "Dining Hall." Itscarcely deserved so high-sounding a name perhaps, being a long low roomon the basement floor, with a big fireplace, fitted with taps, andbaking ovens, which provoked the suspicion that it had begun existenceas a back kitchen.
The Doctor took his seat alone at a cross table forming the top of oneof the two rows of tables, set with white cups and saucers, and plateswell heaped with the square pieces of bread and butter, while Mrs.Grimstone with Dulcie and Tom, sat at the foot of the same row, behindtwo ugly urns of dull block-tin.
But when Mr.
Bultitude, more hungry than he had felt for years, foundhis place at one of the tables, he was disgusted to find upon hisplate--not, as he had confidently expected, a couple of plump poachedeggs, with their appetising contrast of ruddy gold and silvery white,not a crisp and crackling sausage or a mottled omelette, not even thehomely but luscious rasher, but a brace of chill forbidding sardines,lying grim and headless in bilious green oil!
It was a fish he positively loathed, nor could it be reasonably expectedthat the confidence necessary for a declaration was to be forgotten byso sepulchral a form of nutriment.
He roused himself, however, to swallow them, together with some of thethin and tin-flavoured coffee. But the meal as a whole was so differentfrom the plentiful well-cooked breakfasts he had sat down before foryears as a matter of course, that it made him feel extremely unwell.
No talking was allowed during the meal. The Doctor now and then lookedup from his dish of kidneys on toast (at which envious glances wereoccasionally cast) to address a casual remark to his wife across thelong row of plates and cups, but, as a rule, the dull champing sound ofboys solemnly and steadily munching was all that broke the silence.
Towards the end, when the plates had been generally cleared, and theboys sat staring with the stolidity of repletion at one another acrossthe tables, the junior house-master, Mr. Tinkler, made his appearance.He had lately left a small and little-known college at Cambridge, wherehe had contrived, contrary to expectation, to evade the uncoveted woodenspoon by just two places, which enabled the Doctor to announce himselfas being "assisted by a graduate of the University of Cambridge who hastaken honours in the Mathematical Tripos."
For the rest, he was a small insignificant-looking person, who evidentlydisliked the notice his late appearance drew upon himself.
"Mr. Tinkler," said the Doctor in his most awful voice, "if it were mycustom to rebuke my assistants before the school (which it is not), Ishould feel forced to remind you that this tardiness in rising is a badbeginning of the day's work, and sets a bad example to those under yourauthority."
Mr. Tinkler made no articulate reply, but sat down with a crushedexpression, and set himself to devour bread and butter with an energywhich he hoped would divert attention from his blushes; and almostimmediately the Doctor looked at his watch and said, "Now, boys, youhave half-an-hour for 'chevy'--make the most of it. When you come in Ishall have something to say to you all. Don't rise, Mr. Tinkler, unlessyou have quite finished."
Mr. Tinkler preferred leaving his breakfast to continuing it under thetrying ordeal of his principal's inspection. So, hastily murmuring thathe had "made an excellent breakfast"--which he had not--he followed theothers, who clattered upstairs to put on their boots and go out into theplayground.
It was noticeable that they did so without much of the enthusiasm whichmight be looked for from boys dismissed to their sports. But the factwas that this particular sport, "chevy," commonly known as "prisoners'base," was by no means a popular amusement, being of a somewhatmonotonous nature, and calling for no special skill on the part of theperformers. Besides this, moreover, it had the additional disadvantage(which would have been fatal to a far more fascinating diversion) ofbeing in a great measure compulsory.
Football and cricket were of course reserved for half-holidays, andplayed in a neighbouring field rented by the Doctor, and in theplayground he restricted them to "chevy," which he considered, rightlyenough, both gave them abundant exercise and kept them out of mischief.Accordingly, if any adventurous spirit started a rival game, it wasusually abandoned sooner or later in deference to suggestions fromheadquarters which were not intended to be disregarded.
This, though undoubtedly well meant, did not serve to stimulate theiraffection for the game, an excellent one in moderation, but one which,if played "by special desire" two or three hours a day for weeks insuccession is apt to lose its freshness and pall upon the youthful mind.
It was a bright morning. There had been a hard frost during the night,and the ground was hard, sparkling with rime and ringing to the foot.The air was keen and invigorating, and the bare black branches of thetrees were outlined clear and sharp against the pale pure blue of themorning sky.
Just the weather for a long day's skating over the dark green glassyice, or a bracing tramp on country roads into cheery red-roofed markettowns. But now it had lost all power to charm. It was almost depressingby the contrast between the boundless liberty suggested, and the dullreality of a round of uninteresting work which was all it heralded.
So they lounged listlessly about, gravitating finally towards the end ofthe playground, where a deep furrow marked the line of the base. Therewas no attempt to play. They stood gossiping in knots, grumbling andstamping their feet to keep warm. By-and-by the day-boarders began todrop in one by one, several of them, from a want of tact in adaptingthemselves to the general tone, earning decided unpopularity at once bya cheerful briskness and an undisguised satisfaction at having somethingdefinite to do once more.
If Mr. Tinkler, who had joined one of the groups, had not particularlydistinguished himself at breakfast, he made ample amends now, and by thegrandeur and manliness of his conversation succeeded in producing adecided impression upon some of the smaller boys.
"The bore of a place like this, you know," he was saying withmagnificent disdain, "is that a fellow can't have his pipe of a morning.I've been used to it, and so, of course, I miss it. If I chose to insiston it Grimstone couldn't say anything; but with a lot of young fellowslike you, you see, it wouldn't look well!"
It could hardly have looked worse than little Mr. Tinkler himself wouldhave done, if he had ventured upon more than the mildest of cigarettes,for he was a poor but pertinacious smoker, and his love for the weed waschastened by wholesome fear. There, however, he was in no danger ofbetraying this, and indeed it would have been injudicious to admit it.
"Talking of smoking," he went on, with a soft chuckle, as atrecollections of unspeakable devilry, "did I ever tell you chaps of atremendous scrape I very nearly got into up at the 'Varsity? Well, youmust know there's a foolish rule there against smoking in the streets.Not that that made any difference to some of us! Well, one night aboutnine, I was strolling down Petty Cury with two other men, smoking(Bosher of "Pothouse," and Peebles of "Cats," both pretty well known upthere for general rowdiness, you know--great pals of mine!) and, just aswe turned the corner, who should we see coming straight down on us but aProctor with his bull-dogs (not dogs, you know, but the strongest 'gyps'in college). Bosher said, 'Let's cut it!' and he and Peebles bolted.(They were neither of them funks, of course, but they lost their heads.)I went calmly on, smoking my cigar as if nothing was the matter. Thatput the Proctor in a bait, I can tell you! He came fuming up to me.'What do you mean, sir,' says he, quite pale with anger (he was a greatbull-headed fellow, one of the strongest dons of his year, that's whythey made him a Proctor)--'what do you mean by breaking the UniversityStatutes in this way?' 'It _is_ a fine evening,' said I (I wasdetermined to keep cool). 'Do you mean to insult me?' said he. 'No, oldboy,' said I, 'I don't; have a cigar?' He couldn't stand that, so hecalled up his bull-dogs. 'I give him in charge!' he screamed out. 'I'llhave him sent down!' 'I'll send you down first,' said I, and I just gavehim a push--I never meant to hurt the fellow--and over he went. I rolledover a bull-dog to keep him company, and, as the other fellow didn'twant any more and stood aside to let me pass, I finished my stroll andmy cigar."
"Was the Proctor hurt, sir?" inquired a small boy with great respect.
"More frightened than hurt, I always said," said Mr. Tinkler lightly,"but somehow he never would proctorise any more--it spoilt his nerve. Hewas a good deal chaffed about it, but of course no one ever knew I'd hadanything to do with it!"
With such tales of Homeric exploit did Mr. Tinkler inculcate a spirit ofdiscipline and respect for authority. But although he had indeed onceencountered a Proctor, and at night, he did himself great injustice bythis version of the proceedings, which were, as a matter of fact, of
amost peaceable and law-abiding character, and though followed by apecuniary transaction the next day in which six-and-eightpence changedpockets, the Proctors continued their duties much as before, while Mr.Tinkler's feelings towards them, which had ever been reverential in theextreme, were, if anything, intensified by the experience.
Upon this incident, however, he had gradually embroidered the aboveexciting episode, until he grew to believe at intervals that he reallyhad been a devil of a fellow in his time, which, to do him justice, wasfar from the case.
He might have gone on still further to calumniate himself, and excitegeneral envy and admiration thereby, if at that moment Dr. Grimstone hadnot happened to appear at the head of the cast-iron staircase that leddown into the playground; whereupon Mr. Tinkler affected to be intenselyinterested in the game, which, as a kind of involuntary compliment tothe principal, about this time was galvanised into a sort of vigour.
But the Doctor, after frowning gloomily down upon them for a minute orso, suddenly called "All in!"
He had several ways of saying this. Sometimes he would do so in ahalf-regretful tone, as one himself obeying the call of duty; sometimeshe would appear for some minutes, a benignant spectator, upon thebalcony, and summon them to work at length with a lenient pity--for hewas by no means a hard-hearted man; but at other times he would stepsharply and suddenly out and shout the word of command with a grim andominous expression. On these last occasions the school generallyprepared itself for a rather formidable quarter of an hour.
This was the case now and, as a further portent, Mr. Blinkhorn wasobserved to come down and, after a few words with Mr. Tinkler, withdrewwith him through the school gate.
"He's sent them out for a walk," said Siggers, who was skilled in omens."It's a row!"
Rows at Crichton House, although periodical, and therefore things to beforearmed against in some degree, were serious matters. Dr. Grimstonewas a quick-tempered man, with a copious flow of words and a taste forindulging it. He was also strongly prejudiced against many breaches ofdiscipline which others might have considered trifling, and whenever hehad discovered any such breach he could not rest until by all the meansin his power he had ascertained exactly how many were implicated in theoffence, and to what extent.
His usual method of doing this was to summon the school formallytogether and deliver an elaborate harangue, during which he workedhimself by degrees into such a state of indignation that his hearerswere most of them terrified out of their senses, and very oftenconscience-stricken offenders would give themselves up as hopelesslydetected and reveal transgressions altogether unsuspected by him--muchas a net brings up fish of all degrees of merit, or as heavy firing willraise drowned corpses to the surface.
Paul naturally knew nothing of this peculiarity; he had kept himself asusual apart from the others, and was now trying to compel himself tobrave the terrors of an avowal at the first opportunity. He followed theothers up the steps with an uneasy wonder whether, after all, he wouldnot find himself ignominiously set down to learn lessons.
The boys filed into the schoolroom in solemn silence, and took theirseats at the desks and along the brown tables. The Doctor was therebefore them, standing up with one elbow resting upon a reading-stand,and with a suggestion of coming thunder in his look and attitude that,combined with the oppressive silence, made some of the boys feelpositively ill.
Presently he began. He said that, since they had come together again, hehad made a discovery concerning one among them which, astounding as itwas to him, and painful as he felt it to be compelled to make it known,concerned them all to be aware of.
Mr. Bultitude could scarcely believe his ears. His secret wasdiscovered, then; the injury done him by Dick about to be repaired, andopen restitution and apology offered him! It was not perhaps preciselydelicate on the Doctor's part to make so public an affair of it, but solong as it ended well, he could afford to overlook that.
So he settled himself comfortably on a form with his back against adesk and his legs crossed, his expression indicating plainly that heknew what was coming and, on the whole, approved of it.
"Ever since I have devoted myself to the cause of tuition," continuedthe Doctor, "I have made it my object to provide boys under my roof withfare so abundant and so palatable that they should have no excuse forobtaining extraneous luxuries. I have presided myself at their meals, Ihave superintended their very sports with a fatherly eye----"
Here he paused, and fixed one or two of those nearest him with thefatherly eye in such a manner that they writhed with confusion.
"He's wandering from the point," thought Paul, a little puzzled.
"I have done all this on one understanding--that the robustness of yourconstitutions, acquired by the plain, simple, but abundant regimen of mytable, shall not be tampered with by the indulgence in any of thepampering products of confectionery. They are absolutely andunconditionally prohibited--as every boy who hears me now knowsperfectly well!
"And yet" (here he began gradually to relax his self-restraint and lashhimself into a frenzy of indignation), "what do I find? There are somenatures so essentially base, so incapable of being affected by kindness,so dead to honour and generosity, that they will not scruple to conspireor set themselves individually to escape and baffle the wise precautionsundertaken for their benefit. I will not name the dastards atpresent--they themselves can look into their hearts and see their guiltreflected there----"
At this every boy, beginning to see the tendency of his denunciations,tried hard to assume an air of conscious innocence and grieved interest,the majority achieving conspicuous failure.
"I do not like to think," said Dr. Grimstone, "that the evil has awider existence than I yet know of. It may be so; nothing will surpriseme now. There may be some before me trembling with the consciousness ofsecret guilt. If so, let those boys make the only reparation in theirpower, and give themselves up in an honourable and straightforwardmanner!"
To this invitation, which indeed resembled that of the duck-destroyingMrs. Bond, no one made any response. They had grown too wary, and nowpreferred to play a waiting game.
"Then let the being--for I will not call him boy--who is known to me,step forth and confess his fault publicly, and sue for pardon!"thundered the Doctor, now warmed to his theme.
But the being declined from a feeling of modesty, and a faint hope thatsomebody else might, after all, be the person aimed at.
"Then I name him!" stormed Dr. Grimstone; "Cornelius Coggs--stand up!"
Coggs half rose in a limp manner, whimpering feebly, "Me, sir? Oh,please sir--no, not me, sir!"
"Yes, you, sir, and let your companions regard you with the contempt andabhorrence you so richly merit!" Here, needless to say, the whole schoolglared at poor Coggs with as much virtuous indignation as they couldsummon up at such short notice; for contempt is very infectious whencommunicated from high quarters.
"So, Coggs," said the Doctor, with a slow and withering scorn, "so youthought to defy me; to smuggle compressed illness and concentratedunhealthiness into this school with impunity? You flattered yourselfthat after I had once confiscated your contraband poisons, you wouldhear no more of it! You deceived yourself, sir! I tell you, once forall, that I will not allow you to contaminate your innocent schoolmateswith your gifts of surreptitious sweetmeats; they shall not be pervertedwith your pernicious peppermints, sir; you shall not deprave them byjujubes, or enervate them with Turkish Delight! I will not exposemyself or them to the inroads of disease invited here by a hypocriticalinmate of my walls. The traitor shall have his reward!"
All of which simply meant that the Doctor, having once had a small boytaken seriously ill from the effects of overeating himself, wasnaturally anxious to avoid such an inconvenience for the future. "Thanksto the fearless honesty of a youth," continued the Doctor, "who, in aneccentric manner, certainly, but with, I do not doubt, the best ofmotives, opened my eyes to the fell evil, I am enabled to cope with itat its birth. Richard Bultitude, I take this occasion
of publiclythanking and commending you; your conduct was noble!"
Mr. Bultitude was too angry and disappointed to speak. He had thoughthis path was going to be made smooth, and now all this ridiculous fusswas being made about a few peppermint lozenges. He wished he had nevermentioned them. It was not the last time he breathed that wish. "As foryou, Coggs," said the Doctor, suddenly producing a lithe brown cane, "Ishall make a public example of you."
Coggs stared idiotically and protested, but after a short and painfulscene, was sent off up to his bedroom, yelping like a kicked puppy.
"One word more," said the Doctor, now almost calm again. "I know thatyou all think with me in your horror of the treachery I have justexposed. I know that you would scorn to participate in it." (A thrilland murmur, expressive of intense horror and scorn, went round thebenches.) "You are anxious to prove that you do so beyond a doubt."(Again a murmur of assent.) "I give you all that opportunity. I haveimplicit trust and confidence in you--let every boarder go down into thebox-room and fetch up his playbox, just as it is, and open it herebefore me."
There was a general fall of jaws at this very unexpected conclusion; butcontriving to overcome their dismay, they went outside and down throughthe playground into the box-room, Paul amongst the rest, and amidstuniversal confusion, everyone opened his box, and, with a considerationespecially laudable in heedless boyhood, thoughtfully and carefullyremoved from it all such dainties as might be calculated to shock orpain their preceptor.
Mr. Bultitude found a key which was labelled "playbox," and began toopen a box which bore Dick's initials cut upon the lid; without anyapprehensions, however, for he had given too strict orders to hisdaughter, to fear that any luxuries would be concealed there.
But no sooner had he raised the lid than he staggered back with disgust.It was crammed with cakes, butterscotch, hardbake, pots of jam, and evena bottle of ginger wine--enough to compromise a chameleon!
He set himself to pitch them all out as soon as possible with feverishhaste, but Tipping was too quick for him. "Hallo!" he cried: "oh, I say,you fellows, come here! Just look at this! Here's this impudent youngbeggar, who sneaked of poor old Coggs for sucking jujubes, and verynearly got us all into a jolly good row, with his own box full all thetime; butterscotch, if you please, and jam, and ginger wine! You'll justput 'em all back again, will you, you young humbug!"
"Do you use those words to me, sir?" said Paul angrily, for he did notlike to be called a humbug.
"Yes, sir, please, sir," jeered Tipping; "I did venture to take such aliberty, sir."
"Then it was like your infernal impudence," growled Paul. "You be kindenough to leave my affairs alone. Upon my word, what boys are coming tonowadays!"
"Are you going to put that tuck back?" said Tipping impatiently.
"No, sir, I'm not. Don't interfere with what you're not expected tounderstand!"
"Well, if you won't," said Tipping easily, "I suppose we must.Biddlecomb, kindly knock him down, and sit on his head while I fill hisplaybox for him."
This was neatly and quickly done. Biddlecomb tripped Mr. Bultitude up,and sat firmly on him, while Tipping carefully replaced the good thingsin Dick's box, after which he locked it, and courteously returned thekey. "As the box is heavy," he said, with a wicked wink, "I'll carry itup for you myself," which he did, Paul following, more dead than alive,and too shaken even to expostulate.
"Bultitude's box was rather too heavy for him, sir," he explained as hecame in; and Dr. Grimstone, who had quite recovered his equanimity,smiled indulgently, and remarked that he "liked to see the strongassisting the weak."
All the boxes had by this time been brought up, and were ranged upon thetables, while the Doctor went round, making an almost formal inspection,like a Custom House officer searching compatriots, and becoming milderand milder as box after box opened to reveal a fair and innocentinterior.
Paul's turn was coming very near, and his heart seemed to shrivel like aburst bladder. He fumbled with his key, and tried hard to lose it. Itwas terrible to have oneself to apply the match which is to blow one tothe winds. If--if--the idea was almost too horrible--but if he, ablameless and respectable city merchant, were actually to find himselfserved like the miserable Coggs!
At last the Doctor actually stood by him. "Well, my boy," he said, notunkindly, "I'm not afraid of anything wrong here, at any rate."
Mr. Bultitude, who had the best reasons for not sharing his confidence,made some inarticulate sounds, and pretended to have a difficulty inturning the key.
"Eh? Come, open the box," said the Doctor with an altered manner. "Whatare you fumbling at it for in this--this highly suspicious manner? I'llopen it myself."
He took the key and opened the lid, when the cakes and wine stoodrevealed in all their damning profusion. The Doctor stepped backdramatically. "Hardbake!" he gasped; "wine, pots of strawberry jam! Oh,Bultitude, this is a revelation indeed! So I have nourished one moreviper in my bosom, have I? A crawling reptile which curries favour bydenouncing the very crime it conceals in its playbox! Bultitude, I wasnot prepared for such duplicity as this!"
"I--I swear I never put them in!" protested the unhappy Paul. "I--Inever touch such things: they would bring on my gout in half-an-hour.It's ridiculous to punish me. I never knew they were there!"
"Then why were you so anxious to avoid opening the box?" rejoined theDoctor. "No, sir, you're too ingenious; your guilt is clear. Go to yourdormitory, and wait there till I come to you!"
Paul went upstairs, feeling utterly abandoned and helpless. Though aword as to his real character might have saved him, he could not havesaid it, and, worse still, knew now that he could not.
"I shall be caned," he told himself, and the thought nearly drove himmad. "I know I shall be caned! What on earth shall I do?"
He opened the door of his bedroom. Coggs was rocking and moaning on hisbed in one corner of the room, but looked up with red furious eyes asPaul came in.
"What do you want up here?" he said savagely. "Go away, can't you!"
"I wish I _could_ go away," said Paul dolefully; "but I'm--hum--I'm sentup here too," he explained, with some natural embarrassment.
"What!" cried Coggs, slipping off his bed and staring wildly: "you don'tmean to say you're going to catch it too?"
"I've--ah--every reason to fear," said Mr. Bultitude stiffly, "that I amindeed going to 'catch it,' as you call it."
"Hooray!" shouted Coggs hysterically: "I don't care now. And I'll havesome revenge on my own account as well. I don't mind an extra licking,and you're in for one as it is. Will you stand up to me or not?"
"I don't understand you," said Paul. "Don't come so near. Keep off, youyoung demon, will you!" he cried presently, as Coggs, exasperated by allhis wrongs, was rushing at him with an evidently hostile intent. "There,don't be annoyed, my good boy," he pleaded, catching up a chair as abulwark. "It was a misunderstanding. I wish you no harm. There, my dearyoung friend! Don't!"
The "dear young friend" was grappling with him and attempting to wrestthe chair away by brute force. "When I get at you," he said, his hotbreath hissing through the chair rungs, "I'll jolly well teach you tosneak of me!"
"Murder!" Paul gasped, feeling his hold on the chair relaxing. "Unlesshelp comes this young fiend will have my blood!"
They were revolving slowly round the chair, watching each other's eyeslike gladiators, when Paul noticed a sudden blankness and fixity in hisantagonist's expression, and, looking round, saw Dr. Grimstone's awfulform framed in the doorway, and gave himself up for lost.