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

by F. W. Farrar

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

  THE FINAL FRACAS.

  Harpour, and all who, like him, had long been endeavouring to underminethe authority which was the only safeguard to the morality of theschool, felt themselves distinctly baffled. Mackworth had been put toutter rout by Bliss, and though he was almost bursting with dark spite,would not venture to do much; Jones had become a perfect joke throughthe whole school, and was constantly having white hen's feathers andgoose-feathers enclosed to him in little envelopes until he was half madwith impotent wrath; Harpour himself had been made very decidedly toswallow the leek of public humiliation; and as for Wilton, he began tofeel rather small.

  Tracy again had openly deserted them. After the interview with Power,Harpour had abused him roundly as a turncoat, and he had told his formerassociates that he was sorry to have had anything to do with theirmachinations; that they were going all wrong, and were ruining theschool, and that he at any rate felt that he had done mischief enoughalready, and meant to do no more. This proof of their failing influenceexasperated them greatly. Harpour threatened, and Mackworth said allthe pungent and insulting things he could, contemptuously mimicking allTracy's dandiacal affectations. Tracy winced under this treatment; highwords followed, and after a scene of noisy altercation, Tracy broke withhis former "party," and after the quarrel spoke to them no more.

  Dr Lane, too, had now recovered from his fever, and returned to theschool. When the reins were in his strong hands, the difference wassoon perceived. The abuses which had crept in during his absence werequietly and firmly rectified, and all tendencies to insubordination wererepressed with a stern and just decision which it was impossible togainsay or to resist. The whole aspect of things altered, and, lonelyas he was among the Noelites, even Charlie Evson began to like SaintWinifred's better, and to feel more at home in its precincts.

  Still, those who were rebelliously inclined were determined not to givein at once, and anxiously looked out for some opportunity in which theycould have Kenrick on their side. If they could but secure this, theyfelt tolerably confident of giving the monitors a rebuff, and ofcarrying with them that numerous body in the school who had been taughtunder their training to resist authority on every possible occasion.

  The opportunity was not long wanting. One fine afternoon a poor oldwoman had come up to the playground with a basket of trifles, by thesale of which she hoped to support herself during the unexpectedly longabsence of a sailor son. Her extreme neatness of person, and her quiet,respectable manners had interested some of the boys in her appearance;and when she came up to sell the little articles, many of which her ownindustry had made, she generally found ready purchasers. Walter, whoknew her well, had visited her cottage, and had often seen the sailorboy on whose earnings she in a great measure depended. This only sonhad now been away for some time on a distant voyage, and the poor woman,being pressed for the necessaries of life, took her basket once more tothe playground of Saint Winifred's. Charlie had often heard about herfrom Walter, and he gladly made from her a few small purchases, in whichthe other boys followed his example. While he was doing this, hedistinctly saw one of the Noelites--an ill-conditioned fellow in theshell, named Penn--thrust his hand into the old woman's basket, whichwas now surrounded by a large group of boys, and secrete a small bottleof scent. Charlie waited a moment, expecting to see him pay for it, butPenn, who fancied that he had been unobserved, dropped it quietly intohis pocket, and stood looking on with an innocent and indifferent air.

  Instantly Charlie's indignation knew no bounds. He could hardly believehis own eyes; he knew that a few of the very worst in the school, andsome in his own house in particular, would regard this as a venialoffence. They would not call it stealing but "bagging a thing," or, atthe worst, "cribbing it"--concealing the villainy under a new name, aname with no very odious associations attached to it; just as theycalled lying "cramming," under which title it sounded much lessrepulsive. In fact, these young Noelites took a most Spartan view ofthese petty larcenies, confining the criminality to the incurring ofdetection. But they had never succeeded in making Charlie take thisview; he never would adopt the change of language by which they alteredthe accepted meaning of words in accordance with their own propensitiesand dispositions, and to him this particular act which Penn committedwith perfect nonchalance, appeared to be not only a theft, but a theftaccompanied by a cruelty and deadness to all sense of pity, which dippedit in the very blackest and most revolting dye. He could not restrain,and did not attempt to restrain, the passionate contempt and horrorwhich he felt for this act.

  "Penn," he said, in a loud and excited voice, not doubting that thesympathies of the others would be as warm as his own, "Penn, you wickedbrute, you have stolen that bottle of scent. Here, Mrs Hart, _you_shan't suffer at any rate if there _is_ a fellow so base and wicked,"and he at once pulled out his last half-crown, and insisted on hertaking it in payment for the stolen article.

  Penn, for the moment, was quite taken aback by the scathing flame ofCharlie's righteous anger. If there had been none but Noelites there hewould have made very light of the accusation, and probably have laughedit off; but there were others looking on who would, he knew, view thetransaction in a very different light, so he thought that his safestcourse lay in a flat denial. It was not reasonable to expect that hewould stick at this; a boy who has no scruples about "bagging" theproperty of a poverty-stricken old woman, is not likely to hesitateabout telling a "cram" to escape exposure.

  "What's all this about, you little fool? I haven't bagged anything."

  Charlie was still more amazed; he positively could not understand agreat brazen lie like this, and yet it was impossible to doubt that it_was_ a lie, against the evidence of his own senses.

  "You didn't take that scent-bottle? oh! how _can_ you tell such a lie?I saw you with my own eyes."

  "What do I care for you or your eyes?" was the only answer which Pennvouchsafed to return.

  "You're always flying out at fellows like a young turkey-cock, youNo-thank-you," said Wilton. "Why don't you thrash him, Penn, for hisconfounded impudence?"

  "Thrash him yourself if you like, Raven; I don't care the snap of afinger for what he says."

  "What do you mean, No-thank-you, by charging him with bagging the thingwhen he says he didn't?" said Wilton in a threatening tone to Charlie;and as Charlie took no notice, he enforced the question by a slap on thecheek; for Wilton had old grudges against Charlie to pay off.

  "I didn't speak to _you_, Wilton; but you shan't hit me for nothing; youforce me to fight against my will," said Charlie, returning the blow;"you can't say that I'm doing it to get off anything this time, as youdid once before."

  A long and desperate fight ensued between Charlie and Wilton; too longand too desperate in the opinion of several of the bystanders; but asthere was no one near who had any authority, nobody liked to interfere.So, as they were very equally matched, neither of the combatants showedthe least sign of giving in, though their faces and clothes were smearedwith blood. At last Henderson and Whalley, who were strolling throughthe playground, caught sight of the crowd, and came up to see what wasthe matter.

  "It's a fight," said Henderson; "young Evson and Belial junior; I'd muchrather see them fight than see them friends."

  "Yes, Flip; but they've evidently been fighting quite long enough to begood for them. You're a monitor--couldn't you see if they ought not tobe separated, and shake hands?"

  "Hallo, stop, you two," said Henderson, pushing his way into the crowd."What's all this about? let's see that it's all right."

  "It's a fair fight," said several; "you've no right to stop it."

  "I won't stop it unless there's good reason, though I think it's gone onlong enough. What began it?"

  "No-thank-you charged Penn with--"

  "Who is No-thank-you?" asked Whalley.

  "Young Evson, then," said Mackworth sulkily, "charged Penn with bagginga scent-bottle from the old woman's basket, and then he was impu
dent, soWilton was going to pitch into him."

  "And couldn't manage it, apparently," said Whalley; "come, you two,shake hands now."

  Charlie, after a moment's hesitation, frankly held out his hand; butWilton said, "He'd no right to accuse a Noelite falsely as he did."

  "It wasn't falsely," said Charlie; "I saw him take it, and a horridshame it was."

  "Is one of your bottles missing, Mrs Hart?" asked Whalley.

  "Yes, sir; but now young Master Evson has paid for it, and I don't wantno more fighting about it, sir, please."

  "Well, my good woman, there's something for you," said Henderson, givingher a shilling; "and I hope nobody will treat you so badly again; you'dbetter go now. And now, Penn, if you didn't take the bottle, of courseyou won't mind being searched?"

  "Of course I _shall_," said Penn, edging uneasily away to try ifpossible to get rid of the unlucky bottle, which now felt as if itburned his pocket.

  "Stay, my friend," said Whalley, collaring him; "no shuffling away, ifyou please."

  "What the devil is your right to search me?" said Penn, struggling invain under Whalley's grasp; "don't you fellows let him search me."

  The attention of all was now fairly diverted from the fight, which,therefore, remained undecided; while the boys, especially the Noelites,formed an angry group round Henderson and Whalley, to prevent them, ifpossible, from any attempt to search Penn. Meanwhile, seeing thatsomething was going on, other boys came flocking up until a large numberof the school were assembled there, while Whalley still kept tight holdof Penn, and Henderson watched that he should play no tricks; theNoelites meantime exclaiming very loudly against the supposedinfringement of their abstract rights.

  Kenrick was one of those who had now come up; and as several fellowsentreated him to stick up for his own house, and not to let Penn besearched, he worked himself into a passion, and pushing into the circle,said loudly, "You've no right to search him; you shan't do it."

  "Here's the head of the school, he shall decide," said Henderson, asPower and Walter approached. "State your own case, Kenrick."

  "Well, the case simply is, that a scent-bottle has been taken from MrsHart; and Penn doesn't see--nor do I--why he should be searched."

  "You haven't mentioned that young Evson says he _saw_ him take it."

  "Why, Charlie, what _have_ you been doing?" said Walter, looking at hisbrother's bruised and smeared face in surprise.

  "Only a fight," said Charlie; "I couldn't help it, Walter; Wilton struckme because I charged Penn with taking the bottle."

  "Are you absolutely certain that you saw him, Charlie?"

  "Yes; I couldn't possibly be mistaken."

  "Well, then, clearly Penn must be searched," said Walter.

  "But stop," said Power; "aren't we beginning at the wrong end? Penn, nodoubt, if we ask him quietly, will empty his pockets for oursatisfaction?"

  "No I won't," said Penn, who was now dogged and sullen.

  "Well, Kenrick has taken your part, will you let him or me search youprivately?"

  "No!"

  "Then search him, Henderson."

  Instantly a rapid movement took place among the boys as though toprevent this; but before anything could be done, Henderson had seizedPenn by both wrists and Whalley, diving a hand into his right pocket,drew out and held up a little ornamental scent-bottle!

  This decisive proof produced for a moment a dead silence among the loudvoices raised in altercation; and then Power said--

  "Penn, you are convicted of lying and theft. What is Saint Winifred'scoming too, when fellows can act like this? How am I to punish him?" heasked, turning to some of the monitors.

  "Here and now, red-handed, _flagrante delicto_," said Walter. "Some ofthese lower fellows need an example."

  "I think you are right. Symes, fetch me a cane."

  "You shan't touch him," said Kenrick; "you'd no right to search him, inthe first place."

  "I mean to cane him, Kenrick. Who will prevent me?"

  "We will," said several voices; among which Harpour's and Mackworth'swere prominent.

  "You mean to try and prevent it by force?"

  "Yes."

  "And, Kenrick, you abet this?"

  "I do," said Kenrick, who had lost all self-control.

  "I shall do it, nevertheless; it is my plain duty."

  "And I recommend you all not to interfere," said Walter; "for it mustand shall be done."

  "Harpour," said Franklin, "remember, if you try force, I for one amagainst you the moment you stir."

  "And I," said Bliss, stepping in front of Power; "and I," said Eden,Cradock, Anthony, and others--among whom was Tracy--taking their placesby the monitors, and forming a firm front together.

  Symes brought the cane. Power took it, and another monitor held Pennfirmly by the wrists. At the first stroke, some of the biggestfifth-form fellows made a rush forward, but they were flung back, andcould not break the line, while Harpour measured his full length on theturf from the effects of the buffet which Franklin dealt him. Kenrickwas among those who pressed forward; and then, to his surprise andshame, Walter, who was the stronger of the two, grasped him by theshoulder, held him back, and said in a low tone, firm yet kind, "Youmust excuse my doing this, Kenrick; but otherwise you might suffer forit, and I think you will thank me afterwards."

  Kenrick was astonished, and he at once desisted. Those were the firstand only words which Walter had spoken to him, the only time Walter hadtouched him, for nearly three years; and in spite of all the abuse,calumny, and opposition which Walter had encountered at his hands,Kenrick could not but feel that they were wise words, prompted, like theaction itself, by the spirit of true kindness. He said nothing, butabruptly turned away and left the ground.

  The struggle had not lasted a moment, and it was thoroughly repulsed.There could not be the least doubt of that, or of the fact that thosewho were on the side of righteous order outnumbered and exceeded instrength the turbulent malcontents. Power inflicted on Penn a severecaning there and then. The attempt to prevent this, audacious andunparalleled as it was, afforded by its complete failure yet anotherproof that things were coming round, and that these efforts of themonitors to improve the tone of the lower boys would tell with greaterand greater force. Even the character of the Noelites was beginning toimprove; in that bad house not a single little new boy had successfullybraved an organised antagonism to all that was good, and by hisvictorious virtuous courage had brought over others to the side ofright, triumphing, by the mere force of good principle, over a bandedmultitude of boys far older, abler, and stronger than himself.

  So that now Harpour, Mackworth, and Jones, were confined more and moreto their own society, and were forced to keep their misconduct more andmore to themselves. They sullenly admitted that they were foiled andthwarted, and from that time forward left the school to recover as fastas it could from their vicious influence. Among their otherconsolations--for they found themselves shunned on all sides--theyproposed to go and have a supper at Dan's. One day, before the eventslast narrated, Power had seen them go in there. He had sent for them atonce, and told them that they must know how strictly this was forbidden,what a wretch Dan was, and how ruinous such visits to his cottage mustbe. They knew well that if he informed of them they would be instantlyexpelled, and entreated him with very serious earnestness to pass itover this time, the more so because they had no notion that any monitorwould ever tell of them, _because since he had been a monitor, Kenrickhad accompanied them there_. Shocked as he was to hear this, it haddetermined Power not to report them, on the condition, which he madeknown to the other monitors, and of which he specially and pointedlygave warning to Kenrick, that they would not so offend again. Thispromise they wilfully broke, feeling perfectly secure, because Dan'scottage was at a remote and lonely part of the shore, where few boysever walked, and where they had very little chance of being seen, ifthey took the precaution of entering by a back gate. But within a weekof Penn's thrashing, Walter was s
trolling near the cottage with Eden andCharlie, and having climbed the cliff a little way to pluck for Eden(who had taken to botany) a flower of the yellow horned poppy which waswaving there, he saw them go into Dan's door, and with them--as he feltsure--little Wilton. The very moment, however, that he caught sight ofthem, the fourth boy, seeing him on the cliff, had taken vigorously tohis heels and scrambled away behind the rocks. Walter had neither thewish nor the power to overtake him, and as he had not so much _seen_Wilton as inferred with tolerable certainty that it was he, he onlyreported Harpour, Mackworth, and Jones to Dr Lane; at the same timesending for Wilton to tell him of his suspicion, and to give him asevere and earnest warning.

  Dr Lane, on the best possible grounds, had repeatedly announced that hewould expel any boy who had any dealings with the scoundrel Dan. He wasnot likely to swerve from that declaration in any case, still less forthe sake of boys whose school career had been so dishonourable andreprobate as that of these three offenders. They were all threepublicly expelled without mercy and without delay; and they departed,carrying with them, as they well-deserved to do, the contempt and almostthe execration of the great majority of the school.

  In the course of their examination before the headmaster, Jones, with ameanness and malice thoroughly characteristic, had said, "that he didnot know there was any harm in going to Dan's, because Kenrick, one ofthe monitors, had done the same thing." At the time, Dr Lane hadcontemptuously silenced him, with the remark, "that he would gainnothing by turning informer;" but as Dr Lane was always kept prettywell informed of all that went on by the Famulus, he had reason tosuspect, and even to know, that what Jones said was in this instancetrue. He knew, too, from other quarters how unsatisfactorily Kenrickhad been going on, and the part he had taken in several acts ofinsubordination and disobedience. Accordingly, no sooner had Harpour,Jones, and Mackworth been banished from Saint Winifred's, than he sentfor Kenrick, and administered to him a reprimand so uncompromising andstern, that Kenrick never forgot it to the end of his life. Afterupbraiding him for those many inconsistencies and follies, which hadforfeited the strong esteem and regard which he once felt for him, hepointed out finally how he was wasting his school-life, and how littlehis knowledge and ability could redeem his neglect of duty and betrayalof trust; and he ended by saying, "All these reasons, Kenrick, have mademe seriously doubt whether I should not degrade you altogether from yourposition of monitor and head of a house. It would be a strong step, butnot stronger than you deserve. I am alone prevented by a deep andsincere wish that you should yet recover from your fall; and that, byknowing that some slight trust is still reposed in you, you may dosomething to prove yourself worthy of that trust, and to regain ourconfidence. I content myself, therefore, with putting you from yourpresent place to the _lowest_ on the list of monitors--a public mark ofmy displeasure, which I am sure you will feel to be just; and I mustalso remove you from the headship of your house--a post which I grieveto know that you have very grievously misused. I shall put Whalley inyour place, as it happens that no monitor can be conveniently spared.He, therefore, is now the head of Mr Noel's house; and, so far, youwill be amenable to his authority, which, I hope, you will not attemptto resist."

  Kenrick, very full of bitter thoughts, hung his head, and said nothing.To know Dr Lane was to love and to respect him; and this poorfatherless boy _did_ feel very great pain to have incurred his anger.

  "I am unwilling, Kenrick," continued the Doctor, "to dismiss you withoutadding one word of kindness. You know, my dear boy, that I have yourwelfare very closely at heart, and that I once felt for you a warm andpersonal regard; I trust that I may yet be able to bestow it upon youagain. Go and use your time better; remember that you are a monitor;remember that the well-being of many others depends in no slight measureon your conscientious discharge of your duties; check yourself in acareer which only leads fast to ruin; and thank God, Kenrick, that youare not actually expelled as those three boys have been, but that youhave still time and opportunity to amend, and to win again the characteryou once had."

  Turned out of his headship to give way to a fifth-form boy, turned downto the bottom of the monitors, poor Kenrick felt unspeakably degraded;but he was forced to endure a yet more bitter mortification. Beforegoing to Dr Lane he had received a message that he was wanted in thesixth-form room, and, with a touch of his old pride, had answered, "Tellthem I won't come." Hardly had he reached his own study after leavingthe Doctor, when Henderson entered with a grave face, and saying, "I amsorry, Kenrick, to be the bearer of this," handed to him a folded sheetof paper. Opening it he found that, at the monitors' meeting, to whichhe had been summoned, an unanimous vote of censure had been passed uponhim in his absence, for the opposition which he had always displayedagainst his colleagues, and for the disgraceful part which he had takenin attempting to coerce them by force in the case of Penn. The documentconcluded, "We are therefore obliged, though with great and realreluctance, to take the unusual step of recording in the monitors' bookthis vote of censure against Kenrick, fourth monitor, for the badexample he has set and the great harm he has done, in at once betrayingour interests and violating the first conditions on which he receivedhis own authority: and we do this, not in a spirit of anger, but solelyin the earnest and affectionate hope that this unanimous condemnation ofhis conduct by all his coadjutors may serve to recall him to a sense ofhis duty."

  Appended were the names of all the monitors--but, no; as he glanced overthe names he saw that one was absent, the name of Walter Evson.Evidently, it was not because Walter _disapproved_ of the measure, for,had this been the case, Kenrick knew that his name would have appearedat the end as a formal dissentient; no, the omission of his name wasdue, Kenrick saw, to that same high reserve, and delicate, courteousconsideration which had marked the whole of Walter's behaviour to himsince the day of their disastrous quarrel.

  Kenrick appreciated this delicacy, and his eyes were suffused withtears. Wilton, somewhat cowed by recent occurrences, was the only boyin his study at the time, and though Kenrick would have been glad tohave some one near him, to whom he could talk of the disgraces which hadfallen so heavily upon him, and to whom he could look for a littlesympathy and counsel, yet to Wilton he felt no inclination to be at allcommunicative. There was, indeed, something about Wilton which he couldnot help liking, but there was and could be no sort of equality betweenthem.

  "Ken," said Wilton, "do you remember telling me the other day that I wasshedding crocodile tears?--what are crocodile tears? I've always beenwanting to ask you."

  "It's just a phrase, Ra, for sham tears; and it was very rude of me,wasn't it? Herodotus says something about crocodiles; perhaps he'llexplain it for us. I'd look and see if I had my Herodotus here, but Ilost it nearly three years ago."

  By one of those curious coincidences, which look strange in books, butwhich happen daily in common life, Tracy at this moment entered with thelost Herodotus in his hand, saying--

  "Kenrick, I happened to be hunting out the classroom cupboard just nowfor a book I'd mislaid, when I found a book with your name in it--anHerodotus; so I thought I'd bring it you."

  "By Jove!" said Wilton, "talk of--"

  "Herodotus, and he'll appear," said Kenrick; "how very odd. It's mine,sure enough! I lost it, as I was just telling Wilton, I don't know howlong ago. Now, Raven, I'll find you all he says about crocodiles."

  "Before you look, may I tell you something?" asked Tracy. "I wanted anopportunity to speak with you."

  "Well?"

  "Do you mind coming out into the court, then?" said Tracy, glancing atWilton.

  "Oh, never mind me," said Wilton; "I'll go out."

  "I shan't be a minute," said Tracy, "and then you can come back. What Iwanted to say, Kenrick, was only this, and it was a great shame of menot to tell you before; but I see now that I've been a poor tool in thehands of those fellows. Jones made you believe, you know, _that Evsonhad told him_ all about your home affairs, and about the pony-chaise,and so on,"
said Tracy, hurrying over the obnoxious subject.

  "Yes, yes," said Kenrick impatiently. "Well, he never did, you know.I've heard Jones confess it often with his own lips."

  "How can I believe him in one lie more than another, then? I believethe fellow couldn't open his lips without a lie flying out of them. Howcould Jones possibly have known about it any other way? There was onlyone fellow who could have told him, and that was Evson. Evson _must_have told me a lie when he said that he'd mentioned it to no one butPower."

  "I don't believe Evson ever told a lie in his life," said Tracy."However, I can explain your difficulty. Jones was in the same train asEvson; he saw you and him ride home; and, staying at Littleton, the nexttown to where you live, he heard all about you there. I've heard himsay so."

  "The black-hearted brute!" was all that Kenrick could ejaculate, as hepaced up and down his study with agitated steps. "O Tracy, what anutter, utter ass, and fool, and wretch, I've been."

  "So have I," said Tracy; "but I'm sorry now, and hope to improve.Better late than never. Good morning, Kenrick."

  When Wilton returned to the study a quarter of an hour after, he foundKenrick's attention riveted by a note which he held in his hand, andwhich he seemed to be reading with his whole soul. So absorbed was hethat he was not even disturbed by Wilton's entrance. Listlessly turningover the pages of his Herodotus to divert his painful thoughts bylooking for the passage about the crocodiles, Kenrick had found an oldnote directed to himself. Painful thoughts, it seems, were to give himno respite that day; how well he knew that handwriting, altered a littlenow, more firm and mature, but even then a good, though a boyish hand.He tore it open; it was dated three years back, and signed Walter Evson.It was the long lost note in which Walter, once or twice rebuffed, hadfrankly and even earnestly asked pardon for any supposed fault, andbegged for an immediate reconciliation--the very note of which Walter ofcourse imagined that Kenrick had received, and from his not taking anynotice of it, inferred, that all hope of renewing their friendship wasfinally at an end. Kenrick could not help thinking how very different agreat part of his school-life would have been, had that note but come tohand!

  He saw it all now as clearly as possible--his haste, his rash and falseinferences, his foolish jealousy, his impetuous pride, his quickdegeneracy, all the mischief he had caused, all the folly he had done,all the time he had wasted. Disgraced, degraded, despised by the bestfellows in the school, censured unanimously by his colleagues, given upby masters whom he respected, without a single true friend, grievouslyand hopelessly in the wrong from the very commencement, he now felt_bowed down and conquered_, and, to Wilton's amazement, he laid his headupon his arms on the table before him without saying a word, and brokeinto a heavy sob. If his conscience had not declared against him, hecould have borne everything else; but when conscience is our enemy,there is no chance of a mind at ease. Kenrick sat there miserable andself-condemned; he had injured his friend, injured his fellows, andinjured, most deeply of all, himself. For, as the poet sings--

  "He that wrongs his friend, Wrongs himself more; and ever bears about A silent court of justice in his breast; Himself the judge and jury, and himself The prisoner at the bar, ever condemned. And that drags down his life."