by F. W. Farrar
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.
DISENCHANTMENT.
"How do you get on with the young Evson, Ra?" asked Mackworth of Wilton,with a sneer.
"Not at all," said Wilton. "He's awfully particular and strait-laced,just like that brother of his. No more fun while he's in the house."
"Confound him," said Mackworth, frowning darkly; "if he doesn't likewhat he sees, he must lump it. He's not worth any more trouble."
"So, Mack, _you_ too have discovered what he's like."
"Yes, I have," answered Mackworth savagely. For all his polish, hiscourtesies, and civilities had not succeeded in making Charlie concealhow much he feared and disliked him. The young horse rears the firsttime it hears the adder's hiss, and the dove's eye tremblesinstinctively when the hawk is near. Charlie half knew and half guessedthe kind of character he had to deal with, and made Mackworth hate himwith deadly hatred by the way in which, without one particle of rudenessor conceit, he managed to keep him at a distance, and check everyapproach to intimacy.
With Kenrick the case was different. Charlie thought that he looked oneof the nicest and best fellows in the house, but he could not get overthe fact that Wilton was his favourite. It was Wilton's constant anddaily boast that Ken would do anything for him; and Charlie felt thatWilton was not a boy whom Walter or Power at any rate would even havetolerated, much less liked. It was this that made him receive Kenrick'sadvances with shyness and coldness; and when Kenrick observed this, heat once concluded that Charlie had been set against him by Walter, andthat he would report to Walter all he did and said. This belief wasgalling to him as wormwood. Suddenly, and with most insultingpublicity, he turned Charlie off from being one of his fags, and fromthat time never spoke of him without a sneer, and never spoke to him atall.
Meanwhile, as the term advanced, Saint Winifred's gradually revealeditself to Charlie in a more and more unfavourable light. The disciplineof the school was in a most impaired state; the evening work grew moreand more disorderly; few of the monitors did their duty with any vigour,and the big idle fellows in the fifth set the example of insolencetowards them and rudeness to the masters. All rules were set atdefiance with impunity, and in the chaos which ensued, every one didwhat was right in his own eyes.
One evening, during evening work, Charlie was trying hard to do theverses which had been set to his form. He found it very difficult inthe noise that was going on. Not half a dozen fellows in the room wereworking or attempting to work; they were talking, laughing, rattling thedesks, playing tricks on each other, and throwing books about the room.The one bewildered new master, who nominally kept order among the twohundred boys in the room, walked up and down in despair, speaking invain first to one, then to another, and almost giving up the farce ofattempting to maintain silence. But seeing Charlie seriously at work hecame up and asked if he could give him any assistance.
Charlie gratefully thanked him, and the master sat down to try andsmooth some of his difficulties. His doing so was the sign for anaudible titter, which there was no attempt to suppress; and when he hadpassed on, Wilton, whose conduct had been more impertinent than that ofany one else, said to Charlie--
"I say, young Evson, how you are grinding."
"I have these verses to do," said Charlie simply.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Wilton, as though he had made some good joke."Here, shall I give you a wrinkle?"
"Yes, if it's allowed."
The answer was greeted with another laugh, and Wilton said, "I'll saveyou all further trouble, young 'un. Observe the dodge; we're all up toit."
He put up a white handkerchief to his nose, and walking to the mastersaid, "Please, sir, my nose is bleeding. May I go out for a minute?"
"Your nose bleeding? That's the third time your nose has bled thisweek, and other boys have also come with their noses bleeding."
"Do you doubt my word, sir?" asked Wilton, his handkerchief still heldup, and assuming an injured air.
"I should be sorry to do so until you give me reason," answered themaster, courteously. "It seems a strange circumstance, but you may go."
It would have been very easy to see whether his nose was bleeding ornot, but the master was trying, very unsuccessfully at present, whetherimplicit confidence would produce a sense of honour among the boys.
Wilton went out hardly concealing his laughter, and in ten minutesreturned with the verses, finished and written out. "There," he said,"Ken did those for me; he knocked them off in five minutes. Ken's anawfully clever fellow, though he never opens a book. Don't boreyourself with verses any more; I'll get them done for you."
Charlie glanced at the paper, and saw at once that the verses wereperfectly done. "Do you mean to show up that copy as your own, Wilton?"
"Of course I do."
"But we are marked for them."
"Hear! hear! thanks for the information. So much the better. I shallget a jolly good mark."
"Shut up, young innocence, and don't be a muff," said another Noelite."We all do the same thing. Take what heaven sends you and be glad toget it."
"Thank you," said Charlie, looking round; "you may, but I'd rather not.It isn't fair."
"Oh, how good we are! how sweet we are! what an angel we are!" saidWilton, turning up the whites of his eyes, while the rest applauded him.But if they meant their jeers to tell on Charlie's resolution, theywere mistaken. He looked quietly round at them all with his clear eyes,gravely handed the paper back to Wilton, and quietly resumed his work.They were angry to be so foiled, and determined that, if he would notcopy the verses, he should at least do them in no other way. One ofthem took his paper and tore it, another split his quill pens by dashingthem on the desk, while a third seized his dictionary. The master,observing that something was going on at that desk, came and stood by;and as long as he was there, Charlie managed to write out what he haddone, while the others, cunningly inserting an occasional mistake, oraltering a few epithets, copied out the verses which Kenrick had donefor Wilton. But directly the master turned away again, a boy on theopposite side of the table, with the utmost deliberation, took hold ofCharlie's fair copy, and emptied the inkstand over it in three or fourseparate streams.
Vexed as he was--for until this time he had never known unkindness--hetook it quietly and good-humouredly. Next morning, before the rest ofthe boys in his dormitory, who were mainly in his own form, were awareof what he meant to do, he got up early and went to Walter's study,hoping to write out the verses there from memory. But he found thestudy in the possession of the housemaid; chapel-bell rang, and afterchapel he went into morning school with the exercise unfinished. Forthis, he, the only boy in the form who had attempted to do his duty,received a punishment, while the rest looked on unabashed, and got marksfor their stolen work. Wilton received nearly full marks for his. Themaster, Mr Paton's successor, thought it odd that Wilton could do hisverses so much better than any of his other work, but he could notdetect the cheating, and Wilton always assured him that the verses wereentirely his own composition.
It was about time now, Wilton thought, to hoist his true colours; but,as he had abundance of brass, he followed Charlie out of the schoolroom,talked to him familiarly, as if nothing had happened, and finally tookhis arm. But this was too much; for the boy, who was as open as the dayin all his dealings, at once withdrew his arm, and standing still,looked him full in the face.
"So!" said Wilton, "now take your choice--friends or enemies--whichshall it be?"
"If you want me to cheat, and tell lies, and be mean--not _friends_."
"So! enemies then, mind. Look out for squalls, young Evson. Onequestion, though," said Wilton, as Charlie turned away.
"Well?"
"Are you going to sneak about this to your brother?"
Charlie was silent. Without any intention of procuring Walter'sinterference, he _had_ meant to talk to him about his difficulties, andto ask his advice. But if this was to be stigmatised as sneaking hefelt that he had rather not do it, for
there is no action a boy fearsmore, and considers more mean than this.
"Oh, I see," said Wilton; "you _do_ mean to peach, blab, tell tales, doyou? Well, it don't matter much; you'll find he can do precious little;and it will be all the worse for you in the long-run."
"I shan't tell him," said Charlie, shortly; and those words sealed hislips, as with a heavy heart he entered the breakfast-room, and meditatedon troubles to come.
Which troubles came quite fast enough--very fast indeed. For the house,or rather the leading spirits in it, thought that they had wasted quiteenough time, and with quite sufficient success in angling for the newboys, and determined to resume without any further delay their ordinarycourses. If Charlie was fool enough to resist them, they said, so muchthe worse for him. During the day, indeed, he was saved from many ofthe annoyances which Walter had been obliged to endure, by escaping fromthe Great Schoolroom to the happy and quiet refuge of Walter's, orPower's or Eden's study. There he could always be unmolested, and enjoythe kindness with which he was treated, and the cheerful, healthyatmosphere which contrasted so strangely in its moral sweetness with theturbid and polluted air of Noelite society. But in the evening atPreparation, and afterwards in the dormitories, he was wholly at themercy of that bad confederacy which had tried to mould him to its ownwill. He was in a large dormitory of ten boys, and as this was theprincipal room in Mr Noel's house, it formed the regular refuge everynight for the idle and the mischievously inclined. When the candleswere put out at bed-time it was seldom long before they were relit inthis room--which was somewhat remote from the others, at the end of along corridor, and of which the window opened on a secluded part of DrLane's garden. If a scout were placed at the end of the corridor hecould give timely warning of any danger, so that the chance of detectionwas very small. Had the candles been relit only for a game of play,Charlie would have been the first to join in the fun. But the Noeliteswere far too vitiated in taste to be long content with mere bolsteringor harmless games. It seemed to Charlie that the candles were relitchiefly for the purpose of eating and drinking forbidden things, ofplaying cards, or of bullying and tormenting those boys who were leastadvanced in general wickedness.
"I say, young Evson," said Wilton to him one night soon after the fracasabove narrated, "we're going to have some fun to-night. Stone, like abrick as he is, has stood a couple of bottles of wine, and Hanley somecards. We shall have a smoke too."
All this was said in a tone of braggadocio, meant to be exceedinglytelling, but it only made Charlie feel that he loathed this swaggeringlittle boy with his premature _savoir vivre_, more and more. Heunderstood, too, the hint that two of the new fellows had contributed tothe house carousal, and fully expected that he would be asked next. Hesecretly, however, determined to refuse, because he knew well that amere harmless feast was not intended, but rather a smoking and drinkingbout. He had subscribed liberally to all the legitimate funds--thefootball, the racquet court, the gymnasium; but he saw no reason why heshould be taxed for things which he disliked and disapproved. Theresult of that evening confirmed him in his resolution. It was a sceneof drinking, gluttony, secret fear, endless squabbling, and joylessexcitement.
"Of course you'll play, and put into the pool?" said Wilton.
"No, thank you."
"No, _thank you_," said Wilton, scornfully mimicking his tone. "Ofcourse not; you'll do nothing except set yourself up for a saint, andmake yourself disagreeable."
During the evening Stone brought him some wine, which Charlie againdeclined, with "No, thank you, Stone." Wilton again echoed the refusal,which was chorused by a dozen others; and from that time Charlie wasduly dubbed with the nickname of "No-thank-you." He was forciblychristened by this new name, by being held in bed while half awine-glass of port was thrown in his face. The wine poured down andstained his night-shirt, and then they all began to dread that it wouldlead to their being discovered, and threatened Charlie with endlesspenalties if he dared to tell. There was, however, little danger, asthe Noelites had bribed the servants who waited on them and cleanedtheir rooms.
The same scene, with slight variations, was constantly repeated, andevery fresh refusal was accompanied by a kick or a cuff from the biggerboys, a sneer or an insult from the younger; for Charlie himself was oneof the youngest of them all. One night it was, "I say, you fellow--you,No-thank-you--will you fork out for some wine to-night? No? Well then,take that and that, and be hung to you for a little muff." Another timeit would be, "Hi there, No-thank-you--we want sixpence for a pack ofcards. Oh, you won't be so sinful as to part with sixpence for cards?Confounded little miser;" "Niggard," said another; "Skinflint," shouteda third. And a general cry of "Saint," which expressed the climax ofvillainy, ended the verbal portion of the contest. And then, some onewould slap him on the cheek, with "take that", "and that," from another,"and that," from a third--the last being a boot or a piece of soap shiedat his head.
It cannot be more wearisome to the reader than it is to me to linger inthese coarse scenes; but, for Charlie, it was a long martyrdom mostheroically borne. He was almost literally alone and single-handedagainst the rest of the house; yet he would not give way. Walter, andPower, and Henderson, all knew that he was bullied, sorely bullied; thisthey learnt far more from Eden, and from other sources, than fromCharlie himself, for he, poor child, held himself bound by his promiseto Wilton, and kept his lips resolutely sealed. But these friends knewthat he was suffering for conscience sake; and Walter helped him withtender, brotherly affection, and Power with brave words and kindlysympathy, as well as by noble example, and Henderson by his cheering andplayful manner; and this caused him much happiness all day long, untilhe felt that, with that short but heart-uttered prayer which he breathedso earnestly from "the altar of his own bedside," he had strengthsufficient to meet and to conquer the trials which night brought.
In the house one boy and one only helped him. That boy _ought_ to havebeen Kenrick; his monitorial authority and many responsible privilegeswere entrusted to him, as he well knew, for the main express purpose ofputting down all immorality, and all cruelty, with a strong andremorseless hand. It required very little courage to do this; thesympathies of the majority of boys, unless they be suffered to growcorrupted with an evil leaven, are naturally and strongly on the side ofright. In Mr Robertson's house, for instance, where Walter andHenderson were monitors, such wrong-doings could not have gone on withimpunity, or rather could not have gone on at all. There, a little boy,treated with gross severity or injustice, would not have hesitated foran instant to invoke the assistance of the monitors, whom he looked uponas his natural guardians, and who would be eager to extend to him agenerous and efficient protection.
The same was the case in Mr Edwardes's house, of which Power was thehead. Power, indeed, had no coadjutor on whom he could at all rely.One of the monitors associated with him was Legrange, who ratherfollowed Kenrick's lead, and the other was Brown, who, thoughwell-intentioned, was a boy of no authority. Yet these two houses werein a better condition than any others in the school, because the headsof them did their duty; and it was no slight credit to Walter andHenderson that their house stood higher in character than any other,although it contained both Harpour and Jones. This could not have beenthe case had not those two worthies found a powerful counterpoise in twoother fifth-form fellows, Franklin and Cradock, whose excellence wasalmost solely due to Walter's influence. Kenrick, on the other hand,never interfered in the house, and let things go on exactly as theyliked, although they were going to rack and ruin.
Charlie's sole friend and helper in the house then was, not Kenrick, butBliss. Poor Bliss quite belied his name, for his school work, in whichhe never could by any effort succeed, kept him in a state of lugubriousdisappointment. Bliss lived a dim kind of life, seeing all sorts ofyoung boys get above him and beat him in the race, and vaguely gropingin thick mental darkness. Do what he could the stream of knowledge fledfrom his tantalised lip whenever he stooped to drink; and the fru
its,which others plucked easily, sprang up out of his reach when he tried totouch the bough. He was constantly crushed by a desolating sense of hisown stupidity; and yet his good temper was charming under all histrials, and he loved with a grateful humility all who tolerated hisshortcomings. For this reason he had a sincere affection for Henderson,who plagued him, indeed, incessantly, but never in an unkind orinsulting way; and who more than made up for the teasing by patient andconstant help, without which Bliss would not have succeeded even as wellas he did. Bliss was a strong active fellow, and good at the games, sothat with most of the school he got on very well; but, nevertheless, hewas generally set down as nearly half-witted--a mere dolt. Dolt or not,he did Charlie inestimable service; and if any boy is in like case withBliss, let him take courage, for even the merest dolt has immense powerfor good as well as for harm, and Bliss extended to Charlie a gentle andmanly sympathy which many a clever boy might have envied. He knew thatCharlie was ill-used. Not being in the same dormitory, and joining verylittle in the house concerns, he was not able to interfere very directlyin his aid; but he never failed to encourage him to resist iniquity ofevery kind. "Hold out, young Evson," he would often say to him; "you'rea good, brave little chap, and don't give in; you're in the right andthey in the wrong; and right is might, be sure of that."
It was something in those days to meet with approbation for well-doingamong the Noelites; and Charlie, with genuine gratitude, never forgotBliss's kind support; till Bliss left Saint Winifred's they continuedfirm friends and fast.
"Have you made any friends in the house?" asked Mr Noel of Charlie onone occasion; for he often seized an opportunity of talking to hisyounger boys, for whom he felt a sincere interest, and whom he wouldgladly have shielded from temptation to the very utmost of his power,had he but known that of which he was unhappily so ignorant--the badstate of things among the boys under his care.
"Not many, sir," said Charlie.
"Haven't you? I'm sorry to hear that. I like to see boys formingfriendships for future life; and there are some very nice fellows in thehouse. Wilton, for instance, don't you like him? He's very idle andvolatile, I know, but still he seems to me a pleasant boy."
Charlie could hardly suppress a smile, but said nothing; and Mr Noelcontinued, "Who is your chief friend, Evson, among my boys?"
"Bliss, sir," said Charlie, with alacrity.
"Bliss!" answered Mr Noel in surprise. "What makes you like him somuch? Is he not very backward and stupid?"
But Charlie would not hear a word against Bliss, and speaking with allthe open trustfulness of a new boy, he exclaimed, "O sir, Bliss is anexcellent fellow; I wish there were many more like him; he's a capitalfellow, sir, I like him very much; he's the best fellow in the house,and the only one who stands by me when I am in trouble."
"Well, I'm glad you've found _one_ friend, Evson," said Mr Noel; "nomatter who he is."
One way in which Bliss showed his friendship was by going privately toKenrick, and complaining of the way in which Charlie was bullied. "Whydon't you interfere, Kenrick?" he asked.
"Interfere, pooh! It will do the young cub good; he's too conceited, byhalf."
"I never saw a little fellow _less_ conceited, anyhow."
Kenrick stared at him. "What business is it of yours, I should like toknow?"
"It _is_ business of mine; he is a good little fellow, and he's onlykicked because the others can't make him as bad a lot as they arethemselves; there's that Wilton--"
"Shut up about Wilton, he's a friend of mine."
"Then more shame for you," said Bliss.
"He's worth fifty such chickens as little Evson, any day."
"Chickens!" said Bliss, with a tone as nearly like contempt as he hadever assumed; "it's clear you don't know much about him; I wish,Kenrick, you'd do your duty more, and then the house would not be so badas it is."
Kenrick opened his eyes wide; he had never heard Bliss speak like thisbefore. "I don't want the learned, the clever, the profound Bliss toteach _me my_ duty," he said, with a proud sneer; "what business haveyou to abuse the house, because it is not full of young ninnies likeEvson? You're no monitor of mine, let me tell you."
"You may sneer, Kenrick, at my being stupid, if you like; but, for allyour cleverness, I wouldn't be you for something; and if you won'tinterfere, as you ought, _I will_, if I can." And as Bliss said this,with clear flaming anger, and fixed on Kenrick his eyes, which werelighted up with honest purpose, Kenrick thought he had never seen himlook so handsome, or so fine a fellow. "Yes, even _he_ is superior tome now," he thought, with a sigh, as Bliss left the room. Poor Ken--there was no unhappier boy at Saint Winifred's; as he ate and ate ofthose ashy fruits of sin, they grew more and more dusty and bitter tohis parched taste; as he drank of that napthaline river of waywardpride, it scorched his heart and did _not_ quench his thirst.